“Sit down, both of you,” said Anna. A vein protruded from her forehead, throbbing as frustration heated her blood. Over the drafty, caliginous space of her office hung an ominous air as she seated herself behind her desk. Lydie and Tatisdi said nothing and sat on the other side, where a backless wooden bench provided no comfort in the frigid, stiff atmosphere. Anna clasped her hands together atop her desk and addressed the cat first.
“Tatsidi.” The calm depth of her voice made every hair on his body stand on end. “Where have you been?”
“Tending to business,” Tatsidi replied, hesitating to answer as such. Anna was rarely fond of this answer. This instance was no exception and earned an even more impressive groan than usual.
“Very well, be as vague as you see fit. It is interesting to me, however, that you scurried away when the fire broke out and we have not seen you since. If there is something going on between the two of you, it cannot continue to cause this sort of disorder.” She turned her attention to Lydie, rubbing her temples.
“You, especially, are not impressing me for the sake of joining our guild,” she added. As much as she hated being a nag, it seemed it was her job at times. Leading a fledgling guild often came with plenty of irritating behaviors to endure.
“I ain’t here to impress anyone, hen,” said Lydie, wedging her tongue between the gap in her teeth. Folding her arms in front of her chest, she tried to lean back and nearly lost her balance, having forgotten that there was nothing there to support her.
“Yes, well,” Anna slid a palm down her face. “Your attitude is something we can deal with later. For now, I would like to discuss what started the fire and hopefully prevent it from happening again.”
Tatsidi grumbled, turning his head to Lydie as if hoping she would answer first.
“Oi,” she said to him with a scowl. “You’re the only one who would remember. You tell her.”
“Fine.” The tip of his tail twitched and whipped. In an assiduous effort to avoid the Helbrund’s burning gaze, he stared at his claws while extending and retracting them. “Lydie and I were… Arguing. I was unaware that, as the conversation grew more and more heated, her hands would do so as well. It was not long before I saw flames bursting from them. Everything around her caught fire in an instant.”
“And you left without helping her?”
“If we were all rational in our moments of anger, then perhaps the world would be a more peaceful place,” said Tatsidi. “She emerged from the flames which swallowed the home of our lady – a mere heap of burning rags poses no threat to her.”
Anna studied the blank expression on Lydie’s face, convinced she’d caught a rare glimpse of contemplation. She stared downward at nothing, a tense hand cupping her ear as her now chin-length hair spilled between her fingers. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip as a tight, heavy blink broke her far-off stare, though only for a moment.
“Are you all right?” Anna asked her. Though she was genuinely concerned, she did not let up on the firmness of her tone. This seemed to snap Lydie back to focus.
“Y-yeh, of course,” she said, feeling prickles against her sweating palms as she smoothed her brown linen trousers. She hadn’t returned them after borrowing them days ago – they fit a great deal better than her own ragged pair, and she’d taken comfort in them. “He’s right, I can bloody well take care of myself.”
“You told me you had no capacity for magic,” Anna said.
“I meant it. I don’t know what he’s on about.”
“This is true,” Tatsidi confirmed. “Never once had Lydie utilized magic before, and certainly not fire which erupts from the hands. But I swear on my lady’s grave – I saw what I saw.”
“No.” Lydie tensed her face, shaking her head without any sign of stopping. Her fists clenched as she leaned forward with her forearms on her lap. With each word she spoke, they tightened until she trembled, her nails digging into her palms. “Lying sack of horse shite, no you didn’t! Not after all this time. That’s not possible.”
Tatsidi flicked his whiskers and placed a hand on her shoulder. He knew well how she’d struggled. When they were close in the days they worked together, he often comforted her, but it became apparent that his touch no longer offered solace. She shrunk back, swatting him away.
“Don’t touch me, ya piss-gargling idiot.” Lydie stood, her movements snappy with agitation. “Look, I’m about to get real pissed off, so I’m gonna head out before I start shoutin’.”
“Fine,” Anna said, “You’re dismissed.”
“Oh, I was goin’ either way. Ya ain’t my boss yet.” Lydie said. She nodded to each of them, smoothing out her shirt from shoulder to hips. Planting her fists firmly in her pockets, she turned around to leave, and as she reached for the door a metallic rapping sounded from the other side.
“Ol’ Dev’s back, looks like with friends,” Lydie announced as she swung the door open, stepping aside to let him in. From where Anna sat, she caught a glimpse of Ardmy in the distance, reading a book on the couch. At the door stood someone she did not recognize.
“Nice addition to your entourage,” Lydie remarked, her upper lip protruding as she struggled to wink in Julien’s direction. “I’m still pissed off, though, so I’m headin’ out for a walk. See ya’s later.” She waved as she headed out, her voice echoing behind her.
Deventh, Ardmy, and Julien stepped into the office. Tatsidi rose from his seat and greeted them, then hurried to catch up with Lydie.
“You’re looking a bit worse for wear,” Anna said to Deventh, noting the small rips in his clothing and his straggly strands of hair. “More so than usual, that is.”
“Small predicament involving a side job,” Deventh said, avoiding the trouble of a full summary for the time being. He combed his hair back with his fingers, her comment having brought it to mind. “A success in the end, at least.”
“Good, I suppose.” Anna’s bobbing nod led her to land her eyes on Ardmy. “And what brings you back here?”
“Fate, I’m beginning to think,” the Gildvar said.
“We’ll explain later, but there’s someone you may be interested in speaking with.” Deventh gestured to Julien. “One of the missing.”
“One of the—” Anna’s eyes widened as she offered Julien a seat. “Oh, what a relief to know that one has lived. I’m Anna. Your name is?”
“Julien,” he introduced himself. “Pardon me for being bold, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many suspiciously attractive people in one place. Is this some sort of Lemrasi cult?”
Deventh maintained a composed expression as he held back a chuckle, knowing Anna would find no amusement in such a joke. She flashed the Dronvar a look of where-did-you-find-this-one and proceeded as though he’d not just implied her adjacent to any fiendish deities, in jest or otherwise.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Julien. Deventh tells me you’re one of the missing individuals of recent,” she said, clearing her throat before she continued. “It just so happens that we’ve been investigating the disappearances. May I trouble you with a few questions?”
“Of course,” Julien said. “I’d be happy to give you any information I can.”
“Wonderful, thank you. First and foremost, are you well?”
“I wasn’t doing so great before, but I’ve been on the mend since Ardmy patched me up.”
Deventh reached into his pocket as Anna proceeded with her usual slew of questions – descriptions of his captors, where they took him, and what events led him from the moment he left Ravengarde to his arrival at the office where he sat now. A slight dissociation muffled their words as he watched the seconds ticking away on his timekeeper. Ten rotations completed before his ears found anything of interest – a passing mention of returning to Julien’s place of captivity. Ardmy had wandered off into the hall at some point, now cozied up on the couch with a book.
“I’m afraid I can’t stay to help you,” Julien said. “Normally I would be all for that sort of undertaking, but if I can be forthright, my experience has been traumatic enough that I would consider this a turning point. I think it’s time for me to nestle into a more docile life. Perhaps open a shop and find a nice... Wife, or otherwise. Grandmama needs me back in Kho’gul anyway.”
“That is understandable,” said Anna, setting down the quill she’d used to take notes. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to revisit the place where you were held against your will. I do appreciate the information, though. The bunk room is across the hall from here – make yourself at home, and feel free to use one of our beds if you need one.”
“I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve such graciousness, but I do not regret meeting the lot of you,” said Julien. His voice overflowed with gratitude. “Perhaps the rogue god finally grew bored of toying with me. Here’s hoping I stay on this path of luck.”
“I hope the same for you,” said Anna. With a warm smile, she stood, prepared to leave while seeing him out. “It’s been a pleasure, Julien.”
Before she walked past Deventh, she stopped and faced him, tightening her lips as her scrutinizing glare absorbed every detail of his countenance. Dull, weary eyes, a complexion paler than ever, shoulders sagging in complement to his face – she had seen him like this before, but only on rare occasions, grave ones. Without saying a word, she moved on, and he matched her silence as he followed.
“Bloody idiots all around me, I swears,” Lydie muttered to herself, stuffing away her items in her bag without a single care for any manner of organization. She continued to mumble to herself in a constant flow, keeping a similar momentum in her movements as well. Once she reached the point where only a few items remained to be packed, something jerked back on the reins of her mind.
“Rikkee,” she whispered, twisting her head around in search of the stuffed beetle. Starting with the one closest to her, she scuttled between each bed, ripping the covers from the top and bottom bunks to no avail and flinging them mindlessly in every direction. Absorbed in her search, she was unaware that someone had entered the room.
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“Have you lost something other than your mind?” Tatsidi asked, stopping Lydie in her tracks.
“Where did you put him, ya shite-eater?” she asked, gripping a pillow as she hung from a bunk ladder.
“Who?”
“Rikkee. He was in here, tucked all nice into my bed havin’ a wee nap. Now he’s gone.” Throwing the pillow to the ground, Lydie hopped off the ladder and landed flat on her feet.
“I have not even returned to this room since I came back,” Tatsidi said. “Perhaps you have misplaced him. Or burnt him to ashes in one of your new outbursts.”
“Don’t you dare incinerate–insinumerate—” Lydie grumbled, knocking the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Ugh, either someone stole him, you stole him, or he came to life and scurried off to bug-arse hell on his bloody own. Now shut your gob and help me, or… Still shut it, but get out.”
Tatsidi hesitated, biting his tongue at the urge to remind her that they were in a public space. An expulsive sigh afforded him the patience to ease into helping her. Tail swishing as he prowled, he checked beneath mattresses, in the spaces between walls and bed frames, and atop shelves at every height. Together, they tossed and tore through everything in their path, leaving an ever-growing mess of bits and baubles in their wake with no regard for what belonged to whom. Their efforts turned up no trace of the missing plush toy, but they soon unearthed another secret.
“All right,” Lydie’s muffled voice called out as she slid her upper body out from under a bed, cackling and clutching a book in her hand. “Whose bloody smut is this?” She threw the book with great force at Tatsidi, its pages fanning out and – fortunately – softening the blow as it hit him square in the face. He rubbed his nose as the book dropped into his lap.
“What is—” he picked it up and held it open, his ears drawing back as his eyes widened at the lewd imagery within. Were he capable of blushing, he might have done so. “Hooh, I was not aware that orcish women had muscles there.”
Laughter followed, claiming them both. Unabashed, mirthful laughter which pushed out tears once their bellies were too cramped to withstand the force. Their uproar went on for quite some time before they grew tired. Lydie wiped her eyes as the ceiling blurred from where she lay staring up at it. Tatsidi sniffled, letting out a grunt of relief at the chance to catch his breath.
Their gazes met to exchange years of words they couldn’t share. Grief, sorrow, loneliness – all in the space between a blink. Tatsidi’s whiskers flattened against his cheeks. Lydie relaxed her furrowed eyebrows, leaving creases above either side of her nose. Closing the cover over the profane drawing of the orc woman, Tatsidi spoke.
“How lucky we are,” he said, “to have found each other alive and well here.”
“Am I interrupting something?” a voice spoke from the doorway. There stood Ardmy, taking in the disorderly surroundings. In his hands he held Rikkee, whose ragged, segmented legs dangled between his fingers. Before he had a chance to continue, Lydie shot upright and jumped up onto her feet.
“Oi, what do ya think you’re doin’ with Rikkee?” she asked, balling her hands into fists. They sparked, releasing smoke as the rising heat distorted the air. Ardmy took a step back, raising his arms.
“Woah, all right, there’s no need to be hostile,” he said, her sudden reaction having alerted his every sense. “Rikkee – Is that the thing’s name? I found this on the couch out there. Anna told me someone might be missing it. A-are you Lydie?”
“What’s it to—” Lydie staggered back with a hand on her forehead as the heat dissipated. Tatsidi caught her and helped her right herself on her feet. Stepping out of his reach and snatching Rikkee away, she continued. “Aye, someone here’s Lydie. Ain’t important, though.”
Defenses lowered by a bout of concern, Ardmy skimmed over her for any obvious cause of her sudden weakness.
“Are you feeling ill?” he asked.
“No, just don’t like people touchin’ Rikkee.”
“Lydie has recently discovered powers which she cannot control,” Tatsidi explained. “She does not mean to threaten anyone with fire.”
“He’s spoutin’ weevil-shite,” Lydie said. “Been sayin’ this whole time I can’t do magic. Nobody will listen to me.”
“Can’t do—what?” Ardmy’s ginger lashes flitted in disbelief. “I can detect your energy pool from the next room over. It’s… Well, it’s massive. And I don’t think I need to mention that you nearly just cast everything around you into flames.”
“Everyone’s lost their bloody minds,” said Lydie, shaking her head as she tiptoed across the room, taking care not to step on anything delicate. She retrieved her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “You – you are frustrating. I’m going for a walk.” As she started on her way out, pointing at Ardmy with aggressive force, Tatsidi cleared his throat.
“You intend to do so without cleaning up the mess you have made first?”
“That’s right.” Once again stepping carefully over the mounds of clutter, she moved on to the door. “Fare thee well, ya bastards.”
“Very well.” Tatsidi slouched forward, his head hanging low. Swallowing his goodbyes and his urges to spare her a glance, he began sorting through various odds and ends.
Confusion and curiosity humming over his thoughts, Ardmy watched Lydie leave in silence. As she disappeared from view, his attention was swayed to Tatsidi. His ears were lowered and drawn back, and his heavy, slow movements marked his dejectedness. Rather than words, Ardmy offered his help, kneeling to gather pillows and blankets. They continued cleaning for some time, and once they had finished, they stood back and admired their work.
“Looks even better than before,” said Ardmy, chest puffed out and fists at his hips. “All this excellent teamwork and we’ve not been introduced. I’m Ardmy. With whom did I just have the pleasure of tackling this menial task?”
“I am Tatsidi,” said the Apo’na. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Tatsidi – ah, I know that name. Deventh spoke well of you in brief mentions during our travels.”
“How kind of him,” Tatsidi said with a yawn, his tone peaking with sarcasm. “Well met, Ardmy, and many thanks for your assistance. I believe it is customary in these parts to offer libations to those who have earned your gratitude – allow me to do so.”
Ardmy’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I’d like to take you up on that. I could use a drink.”
The tavern’s din grew in intensity as they ascended the stairs and flooded in once they opened the door. Having returned to its usual spirit, the space was filled with dozens of merchants seeking a brief respite from their travels. They took part in merriment and debauchery alike, having come for jokes and drinks among friends only to be lured in by gamblers and whores. Competing with the surrounding noise were two dwarven bards, who just barely managed to draw in a small crowd around the stage amongst the preoccupied patrons. Staff pushed through tightly packed groups, carrying trays of clinking plates and tankards to tables, and Tatsidi and Ardmy followed in the gaps before they closed.
Hopes low of finding a vacant table, they splashed through puddles of sloshed drinks, avoiding dropped silverware as it clattered on the polished tiles. Their search quickly came to an end as they happened upon two tall figures drinking together.
“Lucky us,” Ardmy remarked, picking up the pace as they neared the table, where the guild leaders were found reminiscing.
“I can’t believe they let us stumble into the registry hall in such a state!” Anna said with a hoot of laughter, taking a few hefty gulps of ale. “And what a name befitting such drunken boldness… Valorforge! I suppose we should count ourselves lucky we didn’t write down something completely obscene on that charter.”
“My memory of that night doesn’t serve me too well,” Deventh laughed, slouched back with his fingers wrapped around the neck of a whiskey bottle, “But I do remember you scared that one orc out of his wits. I don’t think he agreed to your terms.”
“Was that the one I told we’d recruit if he could best me in a fistfight? I was in and out at the time as well…”
“That’s the one. You had him backed into a corner and cowering.” As Deventh lifted the bottle to his smirking lips, he caught sight of Ardmy and Tatsidi approaching and waved his fingers at them in a lazy gesture of greeting.
“Good evening, all,” said Ardmy as he pulled up a chair. He opened his mouth as if to continue, but realized it may have been best to refrain from mentioning the earlier incident. “Reminiscing a bit, are we?”
“Yes,” said Anna. “We’ve just remembered it’s been a year since we founded our guild. And not a single founding member is still here.” After gulping down the rest of her drink, a hearty belch startled the young barmaid who appeared beside their table. All but Deventh placed their orders, and the topic of conversation shifted thereafter.
“You’re becoming quite the familiar face around here,” Anna remarked, addressing Ardmy. “Deventh told me what happened at the gate. Sorry to hear of your troubles.”
“Oh, it’s a minor inconvenience,” Ardmy said. “Compared to what I could have been dealing with – poor Julien’s seen it all, it seems. Perhaps it was some force telling me I should keep at my goal of studying to be a doctor. I’ve spent far too much time traveling to make any sort of time for it.”
“Perhaps we can recruit you!” Anna said, her voice booming with enthusiasm as she set a heavy hand down on the table. “You can study all you’d like while you work with us.” Deventh paused with his bottle tipped upward. Work for us was her usual choice of words. He raised his brows at the openness of her invitation as Ardmy brought a finger to his chin, giving serious contemplation to it.
“Perhaps…” the Gildvar trailed off, chuckling as he picked up again, “But will I need to fistfight you?” His question earned a guffaw from Anna.
“No, your sense of humor is enough for the first test!” she said, accepting a fresh mug of ale from the barmaid who had returned. “But we’ll still need to perform a quick interview if you are interested. Just for reference, of course.”
“Understood.” Ardmy sat back as a goblet of wine was placed in front of him. As he picked up the drink and swirled it around, he let his mind wander, as he often had since he’d faced those visions in the cave. Visions in which all his years of loneliness swelled into a tidal wave, crashing down upon him and dragging him under. Forced to face the fact that he was drowning, he came to the conclusion that perhaps it was time for a change. The thought of having a steady place to work among people whose company he enjoyed – at the very least – was more than just tempting; it was beginning to seem ideal.
Crawling out from the depths of his thoughts, he returned to the conversation having taken yet another turn.
“Hopefully Jessa’s made it home safely,” Anna said, flashing Deventh a glance. “Though I can’t help but feel we’ve been lazing around for a bit too long on some suspicion about that necklace when there’s still the matter of finding the rest who are missing. We ought to figure out a plan to continue.” Patting her stomach, she coaxed out another belch.
“Indeed,” Deventh agreed, setting his bottle on the table. He seemed to become sober in an instant. All lighthearted humor gone from his demeanor, he assumed his professional manner. “But it can wait until morning. A trip back to Kho’gul may be in order before we do anything as drastic as retracing Julien’s steps to the ruins. Besides…” He eyed Anna with intent. “We’re still not sure how much of his story is true.”
The Helbrund broke into giggles as she raised her tankard. “Always looking for an opportunity to be rigid and serious, even with all that liquor in your veins. It seems burdensome to harbor such distrust for everyone.”
“It can be,” Deventh admitted, allowing one slip of his inhibition. “But someone needs to ask questions.”
More topics came and passed, as did drinks and people. As the night set in, the tavern’s vivacity showed no signs of winding down. Patrons grew drunker, more unruly, breaking the masquerade which merchants often maintained. The bards, as well, did not tire, but let their songs grow louder and more energetic. Anna dozed off with her head resting on the table, and Tatsidi ran off to find Lydie, leaving Deventh and Ardmy to their own discussion.
“We never got to discuss your incident back in the cave. You know, the one where you became… Inanimate.”
“This is hardly the place to discuss that.”
“And you’ll say that so it’s forgotten until the next time you end up in the same state. I may not be a doctor yet, Deventh, but I’ve never seen any sort of affliction like this. Insomnia, sure, but this goes far beyond that.”
“Neither has Zéah,” Deventh said. “As I’m sure you’re aware, it would be unusual for that sort of thing to slip past her.”
“If that’s so, I’m surprised she hasn’t made you stay under observation rather than running errands for her.”
“She’s tried.”
“Too stubborn even for her to subdue – I’m willing to bet that’s why she likes you.” Ardmy shook his head. The two allowed themselves a moment to be absorbed in the noise around them, sipping their drinks and stewing in a mutual understanding. Ardmy, convinced his friend would never indulge his worries, was taken by surprise when Deventh spoke again.
“It started about a year ago, as soon as I came to Grimros,” he said. “Haven’t felt the need for much sleep, only get hungry every few days. Frequent memory lapses, and a plethora of other symptoms that I can only imagine are related. Despite all that, I don’t necessarily feel ill–and I’d venture to say that anyone else would have declined much faster than I have. The only thing I can tell you with confidence is that I have no idea what it is.”
“If not for the one glaring issue, I’d say that sounds like homesickness,” Ardmy remarked.
“Who knows,” Deventh said. “Maybe that’s part of it.”
“Right, well, until we figure things out, just be careful,” Ardmy concluded, satisfied with Deventh having chosen to share even this much. “I hope you’re not missing anyone too much.” He smiled warmly and sat back, settling into a wordless comfort wherein they enjoyed each other’s company – now beyond the obligation of filling the empty space between them with words. For once, Ardmy knew, without a thread or pang of doubt, that he’d found a true friend.