After a satisfying dinner in a contented solitude, Anna returned downstairs to the guild hall. To her surprise, it was much livelier than usual. All braziers were lit, producing a comfortable warmth to which she was quite unaccustomed in the dank basement. Laughter echoed from the cavernous walls, and the couches had been rearranged around a short table in a square with one face open.

Lounging about on the couches and armchairs, to Anna’s unexpected delight, were five or six of their members, a few of whom were previously assumed to have been long gone. One in particular, however, caught her attention first.

“Al’mar, is that you?” she asked in disbelief as she laid her eyes on a Mezthrin man whose smile rounded his cheeks. He lay slackly on the couch to the right, a tipsy heaviness sinking him into the cushions. His arm hung limp to the side, a bottle of rum dangling by the handle from his hooked finger.

“Anna, it’s been a while,” he said, greeting her with a lethargic wave. “Thought I’d never make it back to old Valorforge, but I’m glad I get to see your lovely face again.” Others around the room waved to her as well, which she acknowledged with a smile and wave of her own.

“Yes, I must admit, we assumed after a month that you’d quit on us. What sort of trouble did you get yourself into?” Fresh scars ornamented his arms, causing Anna’s concern to grow. The Helbrund sat down on the center couch, giving a disapproving stare to the overly affectionate wood elf couple adjacent to her before turning her attention back to the man.

“I ran into some old friends,” Al’mar said. His expression fell somewhat flat as he reflected on his journey, but he retained his lighthearted disposition. “My previous life has its ways of finding me. I’m lucky to have recovered, and that it only took three weeks at that. It’s good to relax and have a drink again after almost dying.”

“Three weeks is quite some time,” Anna said. “Were no healers around?”

“Not in those islands to the south.” Al’mar scratched his salt and pepper beard. “Too many Esdathrin zealots. Traditional doctors aren’t hard to find, but magic healers… You’ll die looking for one. I needed to rest anyway.”

“Well, in any case, I’m glad to hear you’re alive."

“As am I!” Al'mar reached into in his pocket and dug through it for a moment. He pulled out a small sack of coins and offered them to Anna. “My dues, as promised. The job itself was a pleasant change of pace, and I’d like to stay here.”

“We’re happy to have you,” Anna said. She accepted the money and turned to the Fenvar couple on the adjacent couch. Clearly preoccupied in their embrace by whispers and playful touches, they were oblivious to any outside happenings.

“And how have you two been?” Anna asked, clearing her throat. “Did you have any luck with your contracts as well?” The two barely pulled apart to look at her. The Fenvar girl responded, nibbling at her partner’s ear.

“Yesh. Sheven giant weevilsh was livin’ in that poor bashtard’sh houshe. Took care of ‘em, but then Dirien here...” She freed his ear from the grasp of her teeth. “Dirien had to go all the way home to Fenglade to get somethin’ sentimental he left there and insisted we go straight there without stoppin’. He’s sensitive like that. But, eh, we sorta spent all our moneys gettin’ back.”

"All right,” Anna said. “Let's speak in my office later, Helaneth. For now, has anyone seen a redheaded Nelthrin girl around?"

"Might have passed through with Tatsidi earlier," Al'mar chimed in. "Lanky, freckled, talks like a wood elf?"

"Talks like a—oi, what's that supposed to bloody mean?" the girl asked, her voice shrill.

"With Tatsidi? Sounds like her," said Anna. "Did you see which way she went?"

“Toward the bunks, last I saw,” Al’mar said. “Seemed like they wanted to be alone.” A hiccup rolled over his gut as he took a swig of rum from his bottle. He sniffed the air and said, “Does anyone smell that?”

“FIRE!” A cry rang out from the bunk room. Tatsidi emerged, every inch of his fur standing on end as he bolted through the hall. A crash sounded from the same place, followed by the rumble of objects falling to the floor. Another voice called out.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Ya can’t even bloody help me put it out!? Fine then, go and shove ya barbed prick up your fluffy arsehole, you STEAMING PILE OF WET CAT SHITE!"

Through all the racket, Anna had already leapt into action and rushed in to help Lydie. When she arrived at the scene, a cloud of smoke carrying the smell of burning leather and cloth pervaded her nose and lungs.

Choking, she strained through watery eyes and found Lydie screaming and cursing at the far corner of the room. The Nelthrin swatted at a blazing heap with what appeared to be a leather vest. Embers flew as Anna held out a shaking hand. Drops of water sputtered from it. Between shielding her eyes and coughs jolting through her body, she could not focus enough to conjure a stream.

A flaming chunk of cloth flung into the air and landed on Lydie’s shoulder. Without a moment’s thought, she threw the vest down on top of the pile. A small flame latched onto her hair as she tried to brush the object away. Choking and shouting, she patted at the fire which curled and scorched the ends of each strand as it climbed its way up. Anna gasped and held her breath as singed hair joined the smoke cloud's suffocating odor.

The Helbrund steadied herself through a fit of coughs and managed to hold her hand still. Water flowed out first in a trickle, then strengthened to a torrential surge, erupting across the room. The flames roared in their death throes, but they still declared their victory over what they had already reduced to ash.

Lydie stood frozen, brows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut. Fists balled in front of her face, she whimpered as drops of water fell from her soaked hair and clothes.

“Tell me,” she said. “How bad is it?”

“Well, I’m surprised you still have your eyebrows, but… You will definitely need to cut your hair,” Anna said as she approached the young Nelthrin. “I believe I can do something about those burns, though.”

Lydie lifted a hand to her face and winced as her fingers touched a red mark on her jaw. Anna brought up her hand, which began to glow a faint golden light, and placed it on the mild burn. In seconds, it disappeared, and the pain was gone.

“You can fix a burn but can’t fix me fookin’ hair? Is your magic not good enough?”

“No, that’s just not how healing spells work.”

“Oh.” Lydie fell silent as she looked down and noticed that an item of hers, a stuffed toy of a beetle, had been slightly damaged by the fire. She picked up the toy and inspected a burnt section of fabric, feeling it over with her fingers. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

"May I ask what all that was?" Anna asked, stepping over Lydie's belongings as she moved further into the room.

“Piss off.” Lydie stifled a sniff. After a few moments, she started gathering the surviving items that were near. Anna stared in pity at her. With a stroke of compassion, she bent over to help gather the rest of her belongings. Once her hands were full, she reached down to pick up a rucksack, which had only lost its leather drawstrings to the fire.

“I said piss off.” Clothes and trinkets tumbled to the floor as Lydie ripped the bag from her reach. Silence filled the air for an uncomfortable duration wherein she doggedly avoided the Helbrund’s piercing glare. Anna shook her head in disbelief and disappointment.

“I just want to help.”

“I don’t need your fookin’ help,” Lydie choked through tears. She clutched the small plush toy to her chest.

“Then you can at least tell me what caused the fire,” Anna said. Hands on her hips, she tapped her foot. From the moment they met, the young woman had tested her patience, and it was wearing thin.

“I… I don’t know,” Lydie said. Her voice softened. Shaking her head, she sighed with a grunt of frustration. “Last thing I remembers is I was havin’ a tiff with Tatsidi, and then everythin’ went blank. Next thing I know, everythin’s on fire an’ the bastard’s scampering the fook away.”

“I see.” Anna pursed her lips. “Perhaps you lost control of your magic? That can happen with extreme emotions and head trauma.”

“I ain’t got any magic.” Narrowing her eyes, Lydie looked up at her and found a puzzled expression.

“But aren’t you—”

“A Nelthrin? A stupid idiot Nelthrin who’s got no magic? A freak of fookin’ nature? Listen, ya might have better luck talkin’ to Tatsidi if you wanna know what happened.” She averted her gaze from the Helbrund and once more examined the stuffed beetle. Tattered and limp, it was clear that the thing was well loved. Anna gave her attention to it, hoping to distract her from her troubles.

“Does it have a name?” the Helbrund asked. A motherly tenderness fell over her demeanor. Relaxing her shoulders, she clasped her hands together and offered a listening ear.

“Oh, uh…” Lydie trailed off. She stared down at the stuffed toy. Its black carapace was dotted with multicolored spots. “Rikkee.”

“Quite unique. Why Rikkee?”

“Just sounded cute, ay.”

“He's lovely," Anna said. "I'd love to chat about him more, but I’m going to go and have a word with Tatsidi. If you need anything, you can come to me.”

"Yeh, that's all bloody well and good.” Fatigue trickled into Lydie’s voice. “I’m gonna get some sleep.”

“Very well." Anna stretched her arms as she stood up to leave, taking care not to hit the ceiling. “You need your rest to heal your head anyway. It’s only been a few days.”

“Sure, whatever,” Lydie said. Metal clattered on the floor as she threw her bag down. At a loss for what to do, she began wringing out her wet clothing.

“I’ll get you some dry clothes,” said Anna. “We should have some extra pieces somewhere that will fit you.”

Lydie grumbled, wanting no such favors from others. More tears spilled — her chest swelling with a feeling she didn't recognize — as she watched her walk away. The Helbrund still in earshot, she gulped down the lump in her throat.

“Th-thank you.”