The moment Soral crossed the threshold, he locked eyes with Vona who recognized him immediately. When Soral instinctively tried to take a step back, Dillon shoved him forward.

“Soral, is that you?” Vona asked, carefully approaching him as if scared he would run.

He couldn’t blame her. After all, he had run away all those years ago. As she approached him, Soral was filled with a sense of shame. He had been about to back away just then, too. Some hero he was. Heroes needed to be able to face their worst fears and he couldn’t even face those he cared for.

“Hi,” Soral offered a bit sheepishly.

Vona embraced him in a tight hug the moment he spoke. “I’m so glad you came back!” she said, “I was so worried. I thought you had been taken by whoever you were running from.”

“Sorry,” Soral mumbled. He hadn’t realized quite how much his leaving had affected everyone there.

When Vona released him, Ilar burst through the door with Liza close behind. Just like Vona, he immediately recognized him.

“It really is you!” he exclaimed, and captured Soral in his own bear hug.

A lot of mildly uncomfortable hugging later Soral was finally able to explain why he had come, as well as why he had left. Unfortunately, he didn’t have too many answers for the latter. None of them pressed too hard, and only focused on why he was there now and what they would do to stay connected.

“You came here to search for an clothier who can enchant clothing?” Vona asked, “Is there a reason why you tailor and your enchanter must be the same person?”

Soral blinked, quickly processing the thought. “No,” he admitted, “I just didn’t think about it.” Now that he thought about it, searching for someone who could do both was incredibly inefficient. No wonder he hadn’t found anyone. Instead, he just needed a head tailor or seamstress who could work well with whatever enchanter he found.

“Do you know anything about being a seamstress?” Soral asked Vona, just in case.

“I’ve sown some stitches on some torn clothing before, but I’m no clothier,” Vona told him, “Besides, I cannot leave here.”

Soral felt a bit disappointed, but she was right. Ilar led this little town, and she helped him. Neither of them could just leave.

“However, you said you were recruiting for your own mercenary band, right?” she checked, “My children are free to join you if they want.”

Liza jumped up excitedly. “Really! I can go!”

“Conditionally,” Ilar added, “All three of you have to keep contact with us. No disappearing for years on end.”

Soral felt another pang of guilt at that last bit. “I have a way to visit you whenever I want,” he assured them, “I just learned it recently.”

“Then I will go too,” Dillon said. He had been hesitant before.

“Ruena will be happy to see you,” Soral told them, a smile forming on his face, “She is the one who I am helping to found our mercenary group.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Liza replied with a smile of her own, “How many people do you still need? Do you have any other ideas?”

Soral had to think about that for a moment. He had Storm, but he wasn’t sure if he counted as an active member. He also had a history as an assassin. The siblings’ combat skills seemed alright, so that put them at four? Howler was still working more on research.

“I need at least one more active combatant,” Soral admitted, “If you two both join, that is.”

“One, huh? I don’t really know anyone, though.”

Soral couldn’t think of anyone else either. Both of the siblings wanting to join had made things so much easier. An idea suddenly occurred to him. He did know one more pair or siblings. Last he had seen them, they were still at The Oasis, but they could have left in the meantime. He could always ask Oasis about it.

First things first, he needed to take them to meet Ruena. He still needed to find the enchanter and head tailor. Once again, the tasks piled on, and Soral felt there was not enough time in the day to complete them. He also couldn’t just leave after coming back and getting what he wanted.

After spending most of the rest of the day there, Soral took Liza and Dillon back to the restored bits of the castle where everyone was staying. Ruena filled them in on the rest of the details, and invited them to spar so she could gauge their level and help them train. Before he went to turn back time on his day, he made notes to give his cousins a split of the tasks.

Mr. Mischief could pursue the idea of Lady Bracelets as something. Perhaps he should ask Storm for more details about her first. He could have Mr. Dehd Lee chase down information about Flame and Ember. Having set his other timelines extra tasks, Soral took his promised nap before turning back time.

==========

Mr. Mischief was glad for the extra tasks as his routine had gotten rather predictable and boring. It was amazing how quickly he lost the thrill of fear when someone aimed for his life. It didn’t help that none of his would-be murderers could hold a candle to Storm.

Speaking of Storm, Mr. Mischief called him over. Every time Mr. Mischief asked for Storm’s services, he demanded payment in delicious food, always eying the faerutil.

“Our partnership is going well so far,” Mr. Mischief told him, “But I have many things I must be doing. I have one question and one offer for you.”

“Question first,” Storm decided immediately.

Interesting choice. Not that Mr. Mischief knew what it meant to choose either option. “How much can I trust Lady Bracelets?”

“That depends on what you do for her and what you trust her with,” Storm replied, “Is this about that clothing shop you mentioned earlier?”

“It is.”

“I assume the favor you want is more of my crystilium thread.”

“Close,” Mr. Mischief confirmed, “I would like you to work that into the uniforms of the Warriors, but I would like you to check in from time to time and feel free to add it to any outfits you especially approve of.”

“Interesting,” Storm mused, “Alright. I agree. I was slightly concerned you intended to use me to pass the mercenary test.”

“We lack enough people for that,” Mr. Mischief pointed out, “Besides, I don’t want to risk you being outed as an assassin.”

“Retired assassin,” Storm reminded.

“Do you know anything about making clothing?” Mr. Mischief asked. It was worth a shot right?

“Absolutely not,” Storm refused immediately with a wide smile, “But I might help make a piece or two if you give me a certain fruit.”

This was going nowhere, so Mr. Mischief threw a cupcake at the assassin and decided to steal Dehd Lee’s work as well. Dehd Lee was always busy so he surely wouldn’t mind. Not wasting any time, or even bothering to pretend to leave Storm’s earshot, he pulled out the reddish brown wolf charm and twisted the tooth to the left.

“This is a surprise,” Oasis’s voice came from within, “Is there something you need from me?”

“I wish to speak to the fire fairy twins,” Mr. Mischief replied, “Do you know where they are?”

“Of course I do,” Oasis answered, “They never left. Like many in my oasis, they have nowhere to go.”

“What if I were to offer them somewhere to go? Would you let me take them?” Mr. Mischief asked.

“Explain.”

He could explain, and probably should, but Mr. Mischief was not as willing to play along with Oasis’s farce as Soral had been. “I don’t think I will,” he said, “I am giving you the chance to stay in my good graces and pretend you are not collecting hopeless prisoners. I only need to know if you are willing to play along or if I need to rescue them.”

There was a pause of silence. “So this is what the Black Wolf meant,” Oasis muttered, “Would you happen to be one of Soral’s other selves?”

“His cousin,” Mr. Mischief corrected, “Not that it should make any difference to you. You see, I am royalty now. My job is to take Soral’s every threat from people like you and squash it.”

“So you have decided that tormenting Densooth is the correct way to squash threats?” Oasis questioned.

“So he found my presents? Wonderful! Don’t worry. I never stepped foot into the Gray Tower,” Mr. Mischief assured, “And if Soral really has a problem with what I am doing, he can stop me any time. After all, we all remember what each one of us did the day before.”

“In that case, I will allow Soral to speak with the twins,” Oasis decided, “I don’t know about the other self, or cousin, but I am certain having you nearby will hinder whatever Soral is planning.”

“That’s fine,” Mr. Mischief agreed. He knew from the beginning his role was to be flashy, powerful, and undefeatable. Most of all, his name was Mr. Mischief for a reason. He snapped the tooth back to the center and met the watchful eyes of Storm with a smile.