image [https://i.imgur.com/qkQdy5h.png]

"Sun shines for you."

For a moment she could swear he unsheathed a sword as his hand rose, but only an empty palm motioned through the door she'd just opened.

"Accompany me."

Running was foolish, an admission of guilt if what the innkeep had said was true. She turned slowly and walked back through. He walked closely behind her, matching her steps. He pressured her forward until she had no choice but to sit at the bar. He matched her in this too. She hoped now that she could reason with him, but she felt the same direct and calculating aura as the innkeep.

Rickum returned from the floor below. The innkeep locked eyes with Tannen, then the Head looked to him. They all exchanged glances for a moment as Rickum approached with his casual walk.

The Head undraped his face of its cloth. He had short black hair and a kept beard, only above and below his mouth, all of his hair curled. The long beard obscured a deep gash in his upper lip, but the rest of his features were apparent. Older than her but younger than the innkeep. There was a dignity to the Man, but he seemed greatly detached from the world and its concerns.

He looked to the innkeep and spoke candidly.

"I'll have just a water. And something light to eat, I am a little hungry. Siull Tare across the way is very kind, but his wife is not so good a cook, you see."

He placed a small coin on the table. It was star gold, a mix of the two Parrams and worth a hundred gild.

The innkeep took the coin and reached for the small chest he kept in the bar. He ignored the scale to check its worth, he knew that it was genuine. He found the right change and slid the small pile to the Head.

The Head frowned at this. Moving on he turned to Tannen.

"You are the Man I have heard so much of. Too old to be a girl, miss then?"

"Yes."

She answered.

"I am-"

"Tannen Braia. I know. The name suits you."

The innkeep returned with the glass and small plate of potatoes.

His accent was thickly southern Esmony. His words were crisp and quick, the beginning of words were barely growled.

"Thanks to you. If you would please."

The Head motioned the innkeep away, but he refused.

"She has yet to order."

She played along.

"I'm still deciding."

The Head was undeterred.

"You may think while we speak, and you may leave while we speak."

He turned from Tannen to the innkeep. The innkeep moved away from the two to tend to others in the room, but his eyes never left them. He moved slowly. The Head continued.

"Do you know where it is?"

"Do you mean the cloak the young boy had?"

"Yes."

"Then no."

She tried to mimic his directness, perhaps he would respect it. She continued.

"After I helped to save him, I fell to a deep slumber. I only awoke yesterday."

"So it is said. But I am not convinced."

He took a bite before he continued, his casual demeanor was uncanny.

"You are someone known by no-one, you appear one day, the next you go to retrieve an artifact of the gods, and the next it disappears. Some speak to your character but all of them were with you when it happened. You could be an agent from Wayland, or from Glasspen, and they may be traitors to the state, co-conspirators."

"I assure you, I have not taken it. If the priests of Esmony are to claim the cloak of the Whale then it is their right-"

"The Whale? You know the god that blessed the cloak?"

"What, I-"

She did, it felt as if she had always known it, even though until that day, she had never even heard of it. The Head pressured her, still deathly calm in his ways.

"You've had the time to study it, to learn its origins and yet you say you do not have it. You took the cloak, you hid when I arrived and today you tried to leave when you thought that I had quit and left. You still deny this?"

"I did not take the cloak."

"Then how do you know these things that others do not?"

Stolen novel; please report.

"I don't know."

He pushed his plate aside.

"Miss, that is not satisfactory at all."

"That's unfortunate."

He shifted on his stool, closer to Tannen, he looked in her eyes. He was determining her nature for himself. Something however, caught his eye.

"Are you from Paraclaed?"

"Yes."

"And what is the purpose of that?"

He was uncomfortably close to her, when he pointed to her cheek and to the gold piece planted within, something strange happened. Upon his wrist, the loose chain rose. Not simply weightless, but as if it was pushed away ever so lightly. The gold pushed the Parram away.

He noticed this. His hand gripped his sword tightly, ready to unleash it. He still pointed to the gold.

"What are you?"

"I am a No-Man and a descendant of Libare."

"And yet you are un-godly. The very world rejects you. You are no mere Man. What are you?"

There was nothing that would satisfy him. In his eyes she was already demonized. Whatever that piece of gold was, surely it was a curse. At last she relied on her god.

"The world does not reject me, I am the paladin of the Peacock."

The Head paused, leaning back again before speaking.

"The Peacock? Your ilk swore not to pledge to any state, Man or Elf. You hold one of the few known artifacts. What was it?"

She thought to grab it, but sudden moves would be unwise. She spoke instead.

"The Feathered Edge."

""There shall come no harm from this blade to those the blade protects.", was that the passage?"

"Yes."

He saw the weapon, he'd seen it when they first met but now he looked to it with intent.

"Prove it."

Clouds covered the sky, the windows shone with the suns light no longer. He moved closer again, the dim candles kept his face alight. She spoke.

"How?"

"Take it and prove you are paladin. Should you speak the truth, by decree of the Hierophant, the Scholar and the Warrior you are free to your mission. Prove you hold the Feathered Edge."

She reached for it. He warned her.

"Slow."

She continued slowly, she brought the sheath upon the table and drew the blade enough to put her hand upon. Before she could, the Head grabbed it to see. He studied it deeply.

"For a moment, it seemed you had dulled it, but the blade is sharp. Perhaps the shadow betrayed my eyes."

He let go. She looked to it now as well. The weapon was alive, the edge was not hidden. She hovered her finger above it. Her hand was shaking.

"You fear it?"

The Head had asked. Tannen replied.

"I respect it."

Eyes wide, they both watched the blade. Her finger touched it, not enough to draw blood, she knew this and so did he. His gaze was still affixed to it, waiting. Her finger touched again, she pressed deep enough to depress the skin. Still they looked, still waiting. She pushed again, across the edge.

A sting.

And blood.

She could not even begin to think of why before he grabbed her wrist to look upon the wound.

"A liar, worse yet, blasphemer."

Her god had failed her.

Or she had failed her god.

The Head spoke again, now confident of his convictions.

"You will tell me where the cloak is, and you will relinquish yourself to my custody. We will ride to Neoparram where you will face the courts and find judgment. You will be tried for the crimes of heinous theft, for beguilement and blasphemy."

She remembered from where the cut on her hand came from, when she awoke on the shore of the abandoned village. The sword had cut her then. Just as it did now, blood dripped out from the wound, little as it was.

It was something she had done, something to anger or to disappoint her god. Abandoning her duty was not an option, she needed to win back his favor, she thought.

Neoparram was not an option, neither was surrender.

"I cannot do that. Despite what you think, I have a mission on behalf of the Peacock. I am to head to Libare, I cannot go to Neoparram."

"You lie still. Then you realize, that I must exercise my power, as a Head, and I must kill you."

"You don't need to, you would choose to."

He stared. When Tannen took her next breath, the Head reached for one of his swords with his right, while still tightly gripping her left arm. He pulled her arm away from the table and stood from his stool.

He moved to cleanly cut the arm from the body.

With some luck, the blood from her cut had dripped to where the Head held her. Still wet, the blood was a grease that let her rip away with all her might to avoid the strike.

Just in time, the wrist was loosed and the sword missed her.

Tannen fell from her chair.

There was shuffling and commotion behind them, the Innkeep started to approach from behind as the second sword of the Head was now revealed.

"Interfere with state matters, and forfeit your protections as a citizen of Esmony."

The innkeep still approached.

"-and those of your dependents."

He stopped.

The innkeep almost helped, but she knew that he would never risk his sons. She prayed for help, that Auryen might return, or Gyile would burst through the door. But it was not so.

Then she remembered, the Peacock had said that she called out to him, and that he could freely answer. Quickly she decided that it would have to work again. She could not fight, as she was still tired and weak.

She rose to stand, and she prayed. No somatic gesture, no verse, pure thought expressed her prayer. She imagined her god in front of her and-

The sound of splitting wind, brushing barely past her, the Head's sword preempted it. She could not focus. Worse yet, her only means of defense was still upon the bar.

She was right of the bar from where they were sat, with the Head still approaching. She needed Feathered Edge, not only to wield, but to focus. But it was at the center of the table. She shuffled backwards, surrendering ground to the head as he calmly approached.

His posture was a fluid and frightening thing. His head did not bob or weave, it was level as he approached. From where she crouched, he glided towards her.

She was now behind the bar, watching his approach. The Head raised one of his swords to strike from above, but Tannen saw his feign. The true attack came from her side. She dived out of the way over the bar, in this motion she had grabbed Feathered Edge.

She crashed and rolled on the ground near to the balcony. The Head vaulted over the counter with great flourish to continue his pursuit, but the distance was made, and she had time to pray.

Tannen held true the sword. Tannen raised it like colors of war. Tannen breathed out her own conviction, her loyalty. The weapon shone with this, with her faith, and he would now know it. Blinded. Not with blasphemy. Far from blasphemy. Reverence.

Even if she was shunned, she knew with her call he would come to her. She must have failed him long ago, and still he appeared in her time of need. Her belief in this shone too.

It was white, then there was a blue. She released her hand of her blade. Light faded to show all upon their knees or hands. The Head was stuck on his knees, his head and body leaned back, hands aloft in front. The blue did not disappear, instead it was a tall and awesome fowl.

"To be lauded again so is strange. Paladin, for why?"