Winter 4995, 37 Ginmoth

Shon searched the leaf litter for his fallen hair tie, but couldn't find it. Giving up, and not feeling up to continuing to make rounds, he returned to the tower and sat heavily on the stoop before the door.

He sighed, dropping his elbows to his knees and running both hands through his hair, deciding to revise his internal description of Lily as alcohol. Just as intoxicating but with a positive hangover... that was only true if he actually managed to finish her. Without that key component, this hangover was far more painful. In body and soul. He leaned back, staring up into the blue sky and seeing her face, feeling her body against his. Worth it...

The door opened behind him. Hengist... He thought, Maybe Rose's interruption was divine intervention...

"Master Sergeant?" Tristen sounded surprised to find him there, and no wonder, he was supposed to be patrolling. Before Shon could stand and resume his job, Tristen sat down beside him with a sigh nearly as heavy as his own had been, "Stay." He said, "I just came out to get a breath of fresh air, not to check on you." 

Shon arched an eyebrow at the Paladin, but he had to reach up to run his hand through his hair again to see the man. Tristen smirked at him. Shon had never seen that particular expression on the Paladin's face before. 

"I take it," Tristen started, "from your appearance, that she was still in the area?" 

Shon felt himself blush and used digging through his bag for another tie as an excuse to look away. "You knew?" he asked, still not looking at the Paladin as he pulled his hair back once more.

Tristen looked into the forest, "No." He answered honestly, "If I had, I would have had to take your manacles and come out to find her myself." he sighed again, leaning back against the door, "But I thought there might be a very very slim chance that she was. Slim enough that it wouldn't break my Oath not to look myself." he shrugged, his dented armor clinking with the motion, "And even if she was, I knew she wouldn't reveal herself to you if any of us were near."

Shon didn't know what to say to that. He'd never heard of a Paladin skating around his Oaths as much as Tristen did for Lily. "Thank you..." Shon finally whispered. There was nothing else he could say.

Tristen leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees and continuing to watch the forest. "Don't." he said, "I will bring her in, Shon. Eventually I'll run out of legitimate excuses and have to. And when that time comes I will do my utmost to uphold my duty to the law and my king. It's the only thing Saint Giorgos demands."

He glanced at Shon, who arched his brow again. Tristen didn't respond to the expression so Shon asked, "The only thing?"

Tristen nodded, looking forward once more. He took a moment watching the woods, then explained, "Saint Giorgos has never made a Chosen and came back to the material plane as an avatar only once after he ascended. When he did, he wrote, in his own hand, what he expected of those who would swear themselves to him." Tristen held up a finger, "Law is the foundation of civilization. It elevates us above all others, intelligent or otherwise, and only by enforcing it with neutrality and objectivity, can it function." He held up a second finger, "The rulers of the land are the servants of their subjects, and they write the laws to benefit the most people. Their direct orders are to be followed as if given by Saint Giorgos himself." He let his hand fall, "That's it."

Tristen leaned back once more, crossing his arms, "Many attempt to infer other tenants, based on Saint Giorgos's actions and opinions before his ascension, but they're merely opinions. Many of which are held by the highest of our members, and thus by the Temple as a whole." His voice grew quiet, "The Slayer... Some would have us exterminate all manner of dragon-kin. From fairy and pseudodragons to dragonnels and dragon turtles." Ryuuko squawked from the forest trees, and Tristen continued, "Some even believe the Warlocks' theory and go so far as to petition the king to hunt Sorcerers. To seal them all and prevent them from breeding until their bloodlines are wiped out." People like the king's own brother.

Tristen shook his head, his voice growing firm again, "However, his Paladins can, and have, broken such unofficial tenants without losing Saint Giorgos's blessing. Proving that they are not true tenants. Only if a ruler were to write such into law would we be expected to enforce such."

Shon furrowed his brow, genuinely confused, "But... Shouldn't Paladins and Clerics know the difference? They can feel it."

Tristen looked at Shon once more, holding his blue eyes with his own gray, a color that indicated noble heritage, "I'm sorry, Shon..." he said, "but no. There is no way to accurately describe it to someone who hasn't felt it before..." Shon looked away. He'd received lessons as a Squire, but so many of them ended with 'you'll understand once you feel it yourself' a feeling he would never be able to experience.

But the Paladin tried to explain anyway, "The approval or disapproval of a god for just our thoughts feels so faint, that it is easy to mistake tightly held beliefs as being shared by the god himself. Especially for young Paladins. And if those beliefs and the assumed agreement of your god are never challenged, then the false conviction can grow stronger with age and even experience. Only by breaking your Oath, or nearly doing so, can you know for sure. It hurts, more than can possibly be imagined. Like your soul is being ripped open and everything you are is found wanting..."

Shon clenched his fists. He did know that feeling. Often. And he wouldn't wish it on anyone. Tristen wasn't done, "When I decided, for only a moment, to disobey the king's decree to attempt to bring in Miss Lily back in Everbough, I felt it start. And only by reaffirming my Oath and making the attempt could I stop it."

Shon furrowed his brow at that. He'd thought it had been a rather lame attempt, done half-heartedly out of obligation only. Though considering Tristen's words, it was done only out of obligation...

Tristen read his expression and nodded. "I used that to determine that it was alright to send you out here. If I had felt such clear disapproval, I would not have done so." 

Shon had never prayed to Saint Giorgos before... he did now. Thank you... As usual, he felt nothing. "Why?" Shon asked, turning back to Tristen, "Why did you choose Saint Giorgos if those are his only tenants? What of Hengist's justice? Or even Horsa's right to rule?" 

Surprisingly, Tristen didn't answer right away. He turned back to the forest to think, eventually continuing, "At first, I did so because it was expected of me. All Nobles, in the capital at least, who chose to take the divine compatibility test, and pass, join the Temple. I hoped that as a Squire I would find my purpose. And I did. Stable rule really is the foundation of civilization. It's what allows humans to live as long and comfortably as we do. And it's the strictly enforced laws that give rule its stability-"

"Just laws." Shon interrupted.

But Tristen shrugged, "Are you saying that Horsa's laws are also just, Master Sergeant of Hengist?" He actually grinned at Shon and didn't bother to give him time to answer, "They have different goals, but they also work to keep the people from rising up. Though, to be fair, many of Horsa's laws function as justly as Hengist's because Saint Giorgos's line overrules them otherwise. Just like Hengist's Temple and their local Nobles are able to keep their power over the various commoner's guilds, outside of war, for the same reason."

Shon looked down at his hands. It was true. And now that he was reminded of it, he had to admit that it was something he'd always questioned about his admittedly militaristic Temple. Why couldn't the common people and their Guilds hold more governmental power in peacetime?

Tristen continued, more relaxed than when he'd exited, and clearly enjoying the conversation, despite Shon's lack of verbal input, "And, the descendants of Saint Giorgos have passed laws to ultimately better their people. It was the third ruler, queen Esteria, who made official the Church of Soleil's previous volunteer work to care for parentless children. Giving them the funding and kingdom backing to do so. It was the fifth, king Edword who mandated that all citizens receive a complete and official education until maturity. And his grandson, king Collin, who made it so all Apprentices were guaranteed further training in their field, until adulthood, before they could be deemed unworthy to move up to Journeyman and practice their art. Only two generations after did queen Sastasha write into law that common workers in every field could form Guilds, and even encouraged them to do so. And it was her son who gave those Guilds a voice on the lesser councils of every province and the kingdom. It was the tenth, king Gontrud, that wrote the law extending marital and familial rights and legal protection to everyone, regardless of gender or even social standing." 

Tristen sighed, "This list goes on and on, and I won't bore you with it." Though Shon was surprised to find he wasn't bored. He was enjoying the conversation nearly as much as Tristen. And the Paladin seemed to recognize it, even without Shon forcing himself to speak as he had for the last week. Could this really be enough? Could he be himself as Ebonwing had said, and still make friends? Even with his superior?

The Paladin grinned at Shon once again, "I admit, my training as a Squire was much more academic than either Hengist or Horsa's. We weren't trained in every weapon as you were. Only the mace and the cudgel, as Saint Giorgos's preferred arms. But I can recite every law in every province by heart, even nearly thirty-five years since my training."

A comfortable silence stretched between the two men, then Shon said, "I could teach you." 

Tristen furrowed his brow and Shon shrugged, clarifying, "The other weapons," He enjoyed training with all the weapons, still and often. It would be nice to have a sparring partner again... "I know the cudgel is sacred to you," -and that the Paladin could make one magically out of nearly anything he could pick up- "Hengist's Paladins are the same with their Swords." He reached up, running his fingers over the hilt of his own sword.

They had trained with all weapons, but their focus had been on their preferred sword. Enlisted and common warriors generally used short swords. As Squires of Hengist, they'd been assigned either a light long sword partnered with a shield, a heavy two-handed sword much like Tristen's cudgel, or the bastard sword which could be wielded in either one or two hands. But "We learned all the weapons to better know how to face them on the field. I could teach you that." 

He looked at Tristen to find the Paladin's brow still furrowed, "I'm far too old-"

"You're never too old to learn." Shon interrupted. 

Tristen grinned, "Alright then. I would be honored." He held out his hand, offering a shake, but then glanced down at it and started to pull back with a mumbled, "Sorry..."

Shon took his hand and shook it. The Paladin flinched at his cold, but recovered quickly and returned the shake. "You seem more at ease talking now than before." he pointed out. 

Shon shrugged, "I'm better in smaller groups." he explained, then grinned himself, "and need something to actually say." 

Tristen laughed, and nearly pat Shon on the shoulder, though he resisted. Shon was grateful. An offered shake excepted was one thing, unsolicited touch another. "So long as you continue to interrupt if I ramble, that's just fine, Shon." 

The door opened and both men turned in their seats to see Ranito staring curiously down at them, "The gate is open, Sir Tristen." 

Shon arched an eyebrow and Tristen furrowed his brow, "I thought it would take a few hours?" The Paladin asked. 

The Archmage huffed, "I like to give my estimates room for error." He turned around, returning to the crowded hall, quickly becoming more so as Mages, Druids, and Paladins of both Hengist and Saint Giorgos tried to file in from Shutha's capital. Shon and Tristen both stood quickly, squaring their shoulders and putting their professional faces back on.

Alena was snapping at the newcomers like an angry mother bear, ordering them to give the Sorcerers space and let them go through first. Ebonwing and Oswall snickered and the newcomers looked both shocked and ashamed of themselves despite the Cleric's obvious youth. Shon glanced at Tristen to find his mouth twitching as he resisted his own grin at the sight, and Ryuuko flew out of the trees to land on Shon and give its own dragon giggle.

Shon waited outside while Tristen strode in and took charge. This job was done, but their real work was only just beginning...

*** 

Or so Shon thought. By the time Shon had found and donned a replacement shirt, the last Sorcerer had exited through the gate and Tristen turned to his team, announcing, "You're going home to rest and recover. I have a feeling we will have much more work to do soon enough."

Ranito and Tristen himself stayed behind to direct the search and cataloging of the Warlock tower, but Ebonwing, Oswall, Alena, and Shon were sent through the gate to take a few days of mandatory leave. Ebonwing chose to stay in Shutha with her parents, while the other three were ushered through a second gate back to Deim.  

As they exited the Mages Guild into the bustling city, Oswall waved a farewell, saying he had "things" he wanted to take care of. Leaving Shon and Alena to return to the manor together. Shon started off down the stairs only to have Ryuuko whistle, sending him an image of Alena from over his shoulder, trying to stifle a yawn. Despite the energy she'd shown at chewing out the intruding adults earlier, she'd cast quite a bit of healing magic and was finally showing her exhaustion.

Shon waved down a carriage. 

Alena blushed but smiled gratefully as Shon held the door open for her. Ryuuko, on his shoulder, offered Alena its tiny hand and snapped at Shon's ear for not doing it himself. Shon just rolled his eyes, but Alena giggled, resting a single finger in the dragon's claws while using her other hand to pull herself into the carriage. 

Before he could even start closing the door, she asked, "Ride with me?" 

It wasn't that far of a walk to the manor, but Ryuuko chittered, so Shon shrugged and climbed in after her. He reached back out to swing the door closed only to be stopped again by a young Mage running from the Guild waving a paper in his hand and calling, "My Lord! My Lord Shon!" 

Shon arched a brow at the young man. He wasn't a lord. But as the journeyman came closer, Shon recognized him, and the possible misunderstanding. He was one of those who had helped with his commission... 

He reached the carriage and passed a letter to Shon, fighting to catch his breath from the short run, "Your... commission... is complete." He managed to take a good deep breath and stood straight, then bowed, "It was an honor doing business with you. You may pick up the finished product at any time." 

Shon nodded his thanks and considered exiting the carriage to retrieve the items in question. But Ryuuko nipped him and he glanced at Alena, who was covering another yawn.

Shon nodded at the Journeyman, then closed the door and knocked on the roof to signal the driver to leave. 

Alena looked questioningly from him to his letter, asking, "Does that just say the same thing?" Shon shrugged, opening the letter.

It didn't. The letter was from the king, or more likely one of his stewards. His majesty had found out about Shon's commission -somehow- and had taken it upon himself to have it paid for. As thanks for his assistance at their lunch. Shon's eyebrows both shot up in shock. That was quite a thank you, considering the cost and what little Shon had actually done. 

"May I ask..." Alena started sheepishly, "what your commission was?" 

Shon looked up to arch an eyebrow at her and she blushed, waving her hands in front of her face, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I was just... trying to... make conversation..." She looked quickly out the window, her cheeks still pink. 

Shon sighed, returning the letter to its envelope. It would be safe to tell her, wouldn't it? The only secret was who he was giving it to... "Diamonds," he answered. 

"Diamonds?" Alena asked. 

Shon nodded, "With a cold enchantment. I sped up the process by giving them my magic." 

"Oooooh!" Alena breathed as if something she'd been wondering for the entire week had finally fallen into place, "That's why you were so tired before we left. But... what are they for? You don't need artificial ice for anything. Do you?" 

Shon shook his head, explaining, "It's just a small part of a gift."

She looked like she wanted to inquire further but apparently decided against it, saying only, "Oh." and looking out the window again. 

The silence that stretched between them wasn't a comfortable one. Alena yawned again but also fidgeted in her seat, shooting him not-so-covert glances. The carriage hit some unexpected traffic, and they were slowed enough that they would've made better time if they'd just walked. 

Shon was still thinking of the royal couple and asked, "Is there a way to heal someone without raising their temperature?" 

"Huh?" Alena blurted in surprise, looking back at Shon, who was still looking out his window, watching her in its reflection. "No..." she finally answered, "It's not the healing that causes the increased heat, but the body itself. Divine healing works by hurrying the body's own processes to heal itself, and that comes with an increased metabolic rate and thus an increase in temperature." 

Shon turned to furrow his brow at her. He had no idea what 'metabolic' meant, but he also figured it wasn't really important for discussing the basics. Alena continued, sounding almost like a teacher giving a lecture, "That's why fighting disease is so difficult, even with magic. The body induces a fever to attempt to fight the infection or sickness and if we try to heal them on top of that it can increase the body's temperature to a point where it will damage itself and even kill a patient. Sometimes ice baths are used to counteract the effect but that is... less than pleasant, and can put the patient into shock if not done correctly." 

Sitting across from him, she scooted over in her seat to bring herself closer, leaning forward and seeming far more awake now that they were talking about something she clearly had an invested interest in. "It's also one of the reasons why we can't always heal someone who is too badly injured. Many times we need to heal only the most fatal wounds, even only partially, then wait a day or more before doing another round. I've considered doing that with you multiple times. Like today with that cut on your side. If you were anyone else, I would've healed the lowest levels, making the cuts more shallow, then had you wait a few hours to try and do the rest. But..." she trailed off.

"I'm different." Shon picked up the thought with a sigh, "I don't get hot..." 

To his surprise, Alena sighed as well, and corrected, "You do. But not as much. I've felt you get almost warm. But never up to fever levels." 

Shon looked back out the window with a thoughtful frown. Before the silence could stretch he muttered, half to himself, "...and fire Sorcerers?" 

"That's a good question." Alena responded, resting her hands in her lap primly, "I would think it would be a similar effect but for opposite reasons. They can probably take a more intense healing, because their body is designed to run hotter." 

Then she shocked Shon by reaching across the carriage as it started forward again and poking him in the chest, "But, that isn't the only reason we can't just bombard someone with magical healing. And you, of all people, need to know this if you're going to continue taking hits and not wearing armor. We don't know why, but it seems the soul itself can't always handle an intense healing from fatal wounds." 

Shon arched a brow at her again and she leaned back with a heavy sigh, looking out the window and voice growing soft. "I've seen it..." It didn't sound like a pleasant memory, but she continued after taking a deep breath, "Shortly after my vigil, in the first village I served as an official Cleric. A woodsman was attacked by a pair of drakwalves. The guards managed to get to him and killed one, driving the other away. He'd been mauled badly but was somehow still alive, barely holding on. They got him to us, the senior Cleric and I, barely breathing and using that breath to moan in pain."

Her voice dropped further, almost to a whisper and Ryuuko leapt over to sit on her lap and lick at her chin. "I don't know if we went too fast or too slow. He stopped moving, but his body was still responding, the wounds closed and the guard said he could still feel a pulse, so we continued until all the fatal wounds were partly closed. But when we looked up..." She trailed off. 

"He was dead..." Shon whispered, "It wasn't your-" but he cut himself off as she shook her head. 

"Not yet." Alena explained, "His body was alive. He was breathing and had a pulse, but his soul was gone. He was empty. He died a few minutes later." her eyes met his, and though they lacked tears he could see the pain the memory caused nonetheless, "Like I said, we don't know why. Perhaps the healing itself killed him somehow, pushed his soul out. Perhaps he was too far gone, hanging on the edge of the heavenly planes, and he couldn't return to his body despite the repairs. It's not unheard of -it's magic not miracles- and that's why," She pointed an accusing finger at him, "you need to be careful. Even if you won't overheat, and even with Tris, Eb, and I there, there are wounds we can't heal." 

Shon swallowed at the look of intensity in her eyes and tried to smile, "I'll try, Alena."

"You'd better." she huffed, but then smiled, "You promised after all." 

Shon sighed, "Yes." though that wasn't what he'd promised her. 

"I'm glad you're talking more." she said, "It's nice."

Shon chuckled and her eyes went wide. He ran his hand over his hair, looking out the window as the carriage pulled up to their manor. It had been a nice chat. Even if she continued to try and bully him into being more careful and even wear armor. That was just Alena. And if she could deal with him and respond to his unspoken cues, then he could deal with that part of her. 

Shon swung the door open before the driver could come down and do it, paying him while Ryuuko hung off the handle and offered its claw to Alena, who giggled and took it again.

They walked together up to the manor and Alena stretched, "I need a bath and a nap. In that order." 

Damn. That was Shon's preference as well. As if reading his mind she turned to him, asking, "Do you want me to hurry?" 

He shook his head, adding, "Take your time." She grinned, picking up her pace as they entered and hurrying up the stairs to the bathing room, flipping the sign to indicate that a woman was using it even though they were the only two here. 

Shon went to his room, but once inside found something he hadn't left there. A bag waited on his desk along with a letter. Who would come, not only into the house but into his room, unbidden? Furrowing his brow, he opened the letter first, and got his answer. 

Thanks for the fun project, you have to show me the finished product once you've got it stuffed. Considering the plan you explained I sewed it with two compartments and left two openings, one under the left wing for some real stuffing (so it's still cuddly), and one on the side of the stomach for the special stuffing. You can stitch them closed once it's full, or bring it to me to see and I'll whip them closed for you. As an added thank you for the fun of the project I can even deliver it for you, since you're out of the city so often.

It wasn't signed, but didn't need to be. Shon opened the bag next, pulling out carefully folded cloth and letting it fall open to inspect. It was hard to tell what it would look like once stuffed, but it seemed perfect. More than perfect, it looked like he'd given it to a master tailor, even the internal seems were sewn shut in such a way that they wouldn't fray. 

Ryuuko leaned down from his shoulder to cock its head and sniff at it and Shon whispered, "Sasha really is more than a hobbyist isn't she?" he looked at the dragon to see it shrug its wings. She'd also made a point of mentioning delivering it... And considering Lily had said she'd found the Rogue woman, he had to assume that Sasha had guessed who it was for. And that this was her way of hinting that she could deliver letters between them. 

He heard the water start from the bathing room, and looked out the window to gauge the time. Now that he had this part -and since he couldn't take a bath yet- there was nothing keeping him from going back to the Mage's guild to pick up the diamonds.

Though this time, he would walk. 

***

Though she was a businesswoman, she didn't own a shop. And because she was a very busy businesswoman -serving everyone from gang leaders in the city's underbelly to the nobles of the government- she needed to move around to make herself available to both in their given environment. It wouldn't do to have a noble lordling trying to sneak into the slums of the outer city, just like it wouldn't be appropriate for a shady Rogue to try and approach her at a noble ball. But she also needed to be easily found by those willing to pay. Thus, Sasha kept a very strict schedule for where she could be found when. 

So Oswall knew exactly where to go to find her that day. Or more accurately that night. He'd left Shon and Alena while the sun still shone, but stopped at one of his favorite brothels for a hot bath and some relaxing conversation. Bracing himself for the meeting to come and giving Sasha some time to learn on her own that he was back in town. 

He entered the pub -a nicer one on the outer edge of the inner city catering primarily to well-to-do workers- and his eyes were drawn to her as always like a moth to a flame. Oswall didn't stop walking, his body moving as though everything was normal, casual... though his mind just wanted to stop and stare. Gods but she was beautiful. Whether dolled up as a noble, or dragged through filth as a beggar, she was beautiful.

Today was a middle-class day, so here she blended in with the blue-collar workers. Her clothing was simple, rumpled, and well worn, but not too old or at all tattered. Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid but was frazzled as if she'd put it up that morning and not touched it since. She had dirt under her nails and smearing her neck, as if she'd wiped her sweaty face clean but wouldn't bother with more than that until she got home for a proper bath. To an uneducated eye, she would seem just another laborer taking a break after a long day. Only Blink, just as dusty and laying curled under the table, gave her away as someone more. 

Oswall took a moment to order a drink at the bar, pulling out the large envelope with Shon's drawings and tapping it against his leg as he waited. They'd been wrong, both Shon and the firewoman. It was too late, they'd been over for years, and it had been Sasha who ended it. It was alright, this was enough. Things had been tense at first, awkwardly cold and professional, but they'd moved on and become friends. He'd been friends with exes before. It was enough...

Taking his drink he moved for her table. Slapping the envelope down in front of Sasha he let himself fall into the seat across from her, swinging his legs up to rest on another chair, "Miss me?" he asked with a grin. 

Sasha didn't look the least bit surprised to see him and rolled her eyes. She didn't touch the envelope, instead, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and sniffing, "lavender and... peaches? You went to see Madam Brinhil then?" 

"She has the best baths," he explained, swirling his drink, "complete with pleasant company and a follow-up massage. At home, I'd just have the solder boy in the bath. He's no fun to look at, and he doesn't talk." 

Far from being jealous or offended, Sasha snorted a laugh, finally looking down at the envelope, "What's this?" 

"Payment." Oswall said, "For the suite." 

As expected, Sasha glared at him, "I told you, that was a gift. To myself. I don't get to sew many men's clothes and never for something as high-end as a royal ball. I'll not accept pay-"

"Just open it." Oswall snapped at her, grumbling, "Blasted stubborn as a damn rock you are..." Blink huffed a doggy laugh under the table, slinking to Oswall's side to rest his head in Oswall's lap and beg for petting.

Oswall obliged the dog and Sasha rolled her eyes again, finally reaching for the envelope but continuing as she did, "I don't care what it is, Os. If I didn't accept the cloth I'm not going... to..." She trailed off as she started to pull out the stack, only getting it halfway out before stopping. 

She was skilled enough at being discreet that even that small show of a reaction was satisfying to Oswall. He smirked. 

Sasha schooled her expression back to one of nonchalance, putting the pictures back without looking past the first. But then she stood. "Come with me," Sasha ordered, walking around the table and taking Oswall's hand from Blink's head. She pulled him off his chair, making him curse and splutter, nearly spilling his drink as she pulled him through the pub and back into the kitchens. 

Damn. He couldn't tell if this more private conversation was going to be a pleasant or painful one. He downed his drink as quickly as possible, depositing the empty cup on a random counter as she continued through the kitchens, past the cooks, -who looked up only long enough to see it was her. Uninterrupted, she pulled Os into the kitchen cold room.

Sasha never stopped moving forward, going down as the dirt floor of the storage room began sinking with each of her steps into a magically created spiral staircase down into the earth. Blink waited at the top and soon the light from above disappeared as their heads retreated down and the stone slid seamlessly back to replace the floor above. A few more steps and illumination returned at their feet as the stairs continued to spiral down into a private room Sasha kept under the pub.

The room held a single two-person table with comfortable padded chairs, a simple one-person bed, and a single shelf of books. Blink lay before a fire already burning in the hearth -its flue piped into the kitchen stoves above. It was one of many comfortable retreats for Sasha after a long night of listening -and selling what she'd heard- at the pub above.

"You could have at least taken us somewhere I can smoke," Oswall grumbled, trying to gauge her emotion at the quick retreat. 

Sasha ignored him, opening the envelope again and laying out each of the pictures one at a time. Oswall took the spot across from her again, looking at the pictures upside down as she ran her fingers over her mother's smiling unscared face.

"How..." she breathed, "It's like it never happened. Exactly like I remember her..." Then she looked up, her eyes hard, "Who drew these?" 

Oswall managed to resist flinching at the look and shrugged, trying to appear as unconcerned as he always did, "You can trust them. I commissioned them as payment."

"I said I didn't want payment!" she snapped. 

He shrugged again, leaning forward and reaching for the pictures, "Fine. I'll just take these and-" 

"No." She slapped his hand aside. Oswall grinned. "Damn you..." She whispered, finally taking her own seat and pulling the pictures closer, "Tell me who drew them." she tried again. 

Oswall waved a dismissive hand, "No one important. I'm sure if you snoop around you'll find out-"

Sasha slammed her fists down on the table, "Damn it Os!" wiping the smile from his face, "I know it was Shon!" 

"Then why the hells ask!" Oswall shouted back. Damn it, he didn't want another fight... 

"I wanted you to tell me!" Sasha swiped her hand through the air and Blink whimpered, lowering his head to the floor. "Why do you always do this?! It's not like you're protecting him, and even if you were you could tell me that!" It was a good thing they were at least six feet under solid stone, otherwise, the bar above would have gone quiet as the grave at their shouting.

"It doesn't matter! Do you really think I'd put your mother in danger with-" Oswall tried but Sasha interrupted him. 

"I know that! I trust you, damn it!" 

The implication was clear and Oswall stood, starting for the stairs, "I'm not going to argue with you."

But Sasha turned in her seat, "Oh no you don't. Not this time." She stood, stomping her foot, and the stone staircase shot back into the ceiling.

Oswall swiveled back to her, "Bring the stairs down!"

"Make me." she snapped, her glare a challenge.

Oswall blinked, taken aback. He said more quietly, "I would never hurt you, Sasha..."

She laughed, the sound angry and bitter. 

"What do you want from me?!" Oswall snarled at her, "I already know you hate me for what I did. What I still do. And I'm not going to sto-"

Sasha slammed her hand down on the table again, the ground shaking and one of the books falling from the shelf. But then she contradicted the angry motion by shouting, "I don't hate you!"

Blink whimpered in the following silence as Sasha caught her breath and calmed herself enough not to collapse the shelter. But she was still angry enough to continue shouting, "This isn't about that. But if you'll finally talk about it then fine. I hate what you do. I hate how dangerous it is for everyone. I hate that you see it as necessary. And I hate that you didn't tell me! Didn't ask me to help!" 

"I-" Oswall tried, but she wasn't done.

"I love that you see evil in the world and try to stop it. Even if it means helping one person at a time." Her voice cracked, coming out as a whine, "I love you Os. I loved you and you walked away." She fell back into her chair, resting her face in her hands. Hands that were shaking. "I tried to hate you, but I can't. Every time you left for a mission I managed to convince myself that it was alright, that this is fine. I was only ever a friend with benefits to you..." She let her arms fall to the table hiding her face in them, her voice muffled enough that Oswall took a few steps back to hear her clearly. "But then you come waltzing back in and do things like this," she gestured weakly at the pictures, "And I'm reminded who you really are and fall all over again."

"Sasha..." Oswall tried, reaching for her, but faltered, he didn't know what to say. 

She looked up again, then stood, leaning forward, her face and voice pleading, "Just tell me. Tell me bluntly that you never loved me. That it was all a stupid girl's dream. Then I can move on..."

He shook his head, his hands falling limply, "I can't do that..." 

"Why not!" she pled, "You don't even trust me enough to tell me the truth. You-"

"I never lied to you!" Oswall shouted at her, then more quietly, "and I'm not going to start now."

Their relationship had built slowly, growing organically from occasional partners back when Sasha still did more 'field work' -mostly breaking and entering for documented information- into a true friendship, until they'd become lovers. Oswall, two years older, insisted on waiting until she was eighteen, then took her on a truly romantic date, as opposed to just hanging around the town together as they'd done before. Sasha herself even confessed to him, before the end, that traits in him she'd merely tolerated in the beginning, had become endearing. Then, in one night, one secret revealed, it had all come crumbling down.

"You walked away." Sasha said, pointing at his chest with an accusatory finger, "I was angry, and hurt, and frustrated, and honestly scared, and you just walked away rather than talk to me about it."

"I knew you would hate me..." Oswall said, looking away. 

"You assumed I would hate you. Because you didn't trust in our love. I've helped you since then. Lop really is happy..."

His drunken conversation with Shon came back to him. The same thing had happened to the cold quiet man. But unlike Oswall, Shon hadn't walked away to avoid an argument. And he'd found true love because of it...

Oswall squeezed his eyes shut. It was too late... But Shon's deep calm voice came floating back 'anything worth having is worth fighting for.' Then Lily's, 'Unless they're dead, it's never too late...'

"I'm sorry..." Oswall whispered, barely audible to his own ears.

Blink perked up, but Sasha stepped closer, "What?"

"I'm sorry!" Oswall shouted, angry with himself, with everything, "I loved you. I still love you. But no one who really knows me can continue loving me." He couldn't even like himself, let alone expect love from someone else, "Anyone with sense would run for the hills if they knew how awful, dirty, selfish, I really am. I knew we were doomed. You're so gods damn smart, kind, honorable, and beautiful. What in all the hells were you doing with me? But I wanted to hold on for as long as I could. I wanted to pretend for as long as possible that I could experience happiness." 

They were so close now, if one of them could bring themselves to lift their arms and touch the other. "That's not true Os..." Sasha said.

"It is! I-" But his argument was cut off as she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him hard. He couldn't help it, Oswall held her close and kissed her back. 

Sasha pulled back just enough to snarl in his face, "Shut up. The man I love is kind, selfless, and amazing, and I won't let you besmirch him." 

Before he could respond she was kissing him again. Blink barked, but they both ignored him. Sasha pulled Oswall around roughly, forcing him to walk backward, trying not to stumble until his legs hit the bed and she pushed him down. Sasha stood above him, breathing heavily and glaring down at him, she ripped her shirt off, then reached for his. 

"Sash-" He tried, but she growled, pulling the cloth off and dropping it heavily to the floor with all its extra hidden pockets.

She straddled his hips and held his chest down with her palms, "If you really still love me, then prove it. Don't run away from me again Os." 

He didn't. He couldn't. All their pent-up passions, and more than a little frustration, came out in their lovemaking until both were left sweaty and breathless. Too spent and tired to move, Oswall fell asleep with Sasha curled against him, holding him tight as if still afraid he would disappear.

As if he would ever make that mistake again.

***

Oswall woke up alone... and smelled smoke. He groaned, rolling over and sitting up to look around the underground room. The fire had dimmed down to coals, the light further blocked by Sasha sitting before the hearth, wearing his shirt, and smoking one of his prerolled fags, trying to blow it out the flue. Blink's head came off her lap at his movement, but Sasha didn't turn to face him. 

Oswall fished around the tangled blankets, looking for his pants, and slipping them on before walking over to sit beside her. Sasha smirked, "Considering what we just did, do you really need those?" 

Os shrugged, "I don't fancy resting my bare butt on this stone floor." he glanced at her, "Can I have one of those?" 

She snickered, they were his smokes after all, but after making a show of considering she passed the pack over. He lit the tip on the coals before bringing it to his lips, taking a deep breath then leaning forward to blow it into the hearth.

He didn't really want to talk about their fights, this one or the last, but he also felt he owed her an explanation, "I really don't know how I could have told you. It's not the kind of thing that can come up in conversation..."

Sasha frowned, but she looked calm now at least. Maybe now they could finally talk about it without screaming at each other. "It would've come up if you'd asked me for help."

Os sighed, "But I also didn't want you getting involved. If you got caught..."

Sasha rolled her eyes, "yeah, because I've never worked with people who kill before. And with much less noble intentions." 

He flinched, "It's different,"

"How so?" 

"It would've been my fault." he tried to explain. Os sighed again, reaching up to ruffle his already bed-mussed hair, "but, I'll try harder. I've been told -twice!- this last mission that I should tell you everything-" 

Sasha snorted, then rolled her eyes at his questioning look, "Who told you something that stupid?" 

He blinked, "Shon... and the Firewoman, Lily." 

She snickered, "Well that might work for them but I don't expect you to tell me everything." She grinned, then shifted in her seat. Moving closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder, she tossed her smoke butt into the hearth, "Everyone has secrets Os. I make a living on it. And some things are perfectly fine in the past or safe in their shadows. I'm not going to tell you everything I know. For one thing, it would take far too long, for another most of that stuff doesn't concern you, it's other people's business."

"Huh..." Oswall chuckled, go figure. And yet, "But..." he started,

Sasha interrupted with a sigh, "Somethings do concern you though, or us. What you do... it's big, and doesn't just affect you. You should have told me something like that. Should have known that I would find out eventually." 

"Yeah..." Oswall didn't know what else to say. 

Sasha didn't demand more, she lifted her head, shifting again and taking his face in her hands. "Just keep that in mind. And when I ask for something, tell me. If you can't because of work, or to protect a contact or whatever, then tell me that. I, of all people, will understand." She grinned, letting go of one cheek to remove the smoke from his lips. Taking a puff then tossing it in the coals to burn alongside her own, she kissed him. 

This... This was heaven. Truly too good to be true. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling Sasha close before twisting to push her down to the ground. But no matter how impossibly good it was, he wasn't going to let go without a fight again. 

But then he pulled away, bracing himself over her, remembering something, "How did you know Shon drew the pictures?" 

Sasha snickered, pulling him down once more to kiss his cheek then whisper in his ear, "I was in the basement when you brought him to see momma."

Oswall tried to curse, blasted woman, but she cut it off with another kiss and his curse changed to a moan. Blasted, beautiful, wonderful woman...

***

Ebonwing stretched with a groan as she entered the Shutha Mages Guild. It had been a great few weeks off. They'd expected it would only be a few days, but the cataloging of their findings in the tower had been more extensive than any of them expected. 

She found Ranito talking to Tristen in the gate room, both leaning over what looked like a logbook. "It looks like she ripped out a few pages from each, probably burned them, but the rest should give us enough to track the worst of them..." Ranito was saying. 

"Thank Saint Giorgos for that much at least." Tristen responded, nodding down at the book. 

Ranito actually snorted at the Paladin, "Better to thank her most likely. She didn't have to leave us anything, didn't even have to open the door." 

"She broke the mirror though." Tristen pointed out. 

"Well yeah," Ebonwing interrupted, coming up between them to squint down at the book, a ledger showing deliveries of... people. She growled, looking away from it and continuing her thought, "She's a double agent, she can't give us everything. It would blow her cover." 

"I wish she would." Tristen grumbled, "With nowhere else to go she would have to come to us." 

"Doubtful," Ranito contradicted him, "She would probably just disappear into the mountains and be of no use to anyone." 

"Doubtful," Ebonwing attempted to mimic his dismissive tone, then continued in her own voice, "Yua says she'd probably try that, then get bored."

"That is neither here nor there." Tristen said to interrupt further discussion of the Firewyrm, "With this," he closed the book, lifting it up for emphasis, "We'll be busy for a while yet. It's time we get started..." 

At the reception desk, the journeyman Mage seemed to swoon with a groan, holding his head. 

"You alright over there?" Ebonwing called to him. The Mage flinched, looking embarrassed and shaking his head without a word. Ebonwing shrugged, whispering, "Probably hungover," then turned back to Tristen, "So we're heading home?" 

"For now," Tristen answered, though he was watching the Journeyman. The young man blushed, busying himself looking at his own logbook. Tristen shook his head but turned back to the others, "We'll be back on the road soon. Let's go." 

***

Yonin and In'nin let go of the Journeyman mole with twin sighs. 

"So she is a traitor," In'nin said.

Yonin shrugged, "We knew she would be."

"Is the other involved?" 

"Probably not..."

"She has too much sense..."

"and an invested interest."

As one, they turned for the door, continuing their alternating conversation, though they shared their thoughts in more than just words. 

"But the kingdom team will be a bigger problem now," In'nin stated,

Yonin hummed, "They could be tools, for now."

"They will handle our pruning..."

"We will need to deal with them though," Yonin stated,

"And her chosen member?" 

"A problem is a problem."

In'nin nodded, "If the gods wish to involve themselves..."

"They don't have the power to do so."

"not yet." 

Yonin grinned, her white stone face reflecting the light from the hall torches as she opened the door. They didn't fancy the old dragon gods interference in this work; now they finally had an excuse to see them further stalled. This was their passion project. And they would rule the dragons they rebirthed. 

"It will take time to plan..." she said,

"To organize..." In'nin agreed.

"And the trigger?" 

"We already have one." 

"Someone more than willing to lead the kingdom into our trap."

"Willing, and ignorant." 

"The best tools always are."

They walked together through the twisting halls, finally stopping at one unassuming door like all the others, listening to the conversation through the wood. 

"He's always given the best gifts!" The Firewyrm explained,

"It must have cost a fortune. Do soldiers really make that much?" The Waterwrym asked. They could imagine the Firewyrm's shrug in response. She had received a gift from him? So she did have clear ways to deliver messages. Excellent. They lifted their hands and knocked in unison.

It was the Waterwyrm who opened the door. The Firewyrm was sitting on her bed, grinning like a fool and holding a stuffed pseudodragon close, "It's cold... like him..." she said, before noticing they were there. She squeezed the little dragon tighter but glared at them, "What do you want?"

The Master Archmages grinned in unison, "Nothing," In'nin started,

"We merely wished to assure you that you hold no blame..."

"for your failure to find the Windwyrm." 

The Waterwyrm waved a dismissive hand, "She'll pop up eventually. She can't hide forever any more than we can." 

The Firewyrm huffed, looking away from all of them. The Waterwyrm rolled her eyes at her sister. Yes, that one at least could be trusted. For now...

"We also wished to tell you," Yonin said,

"That we will have much more work for you soon," In'nin picked up.

"Dangerous work,"

"Finally!" the Firewyrm exclaimed, "I was getting really bored you know."

"With the fall of the Shutha tower," In'nin explained, 

"The kingdom will be that much closer to us."

"You will need to fight them."

The Firewyrm shrugged, "Sounds fun, but I'm still not defending anyone experimenting on humans." She wasn't even trying to hide it. 

So arrogant... Yonin thought to her brother.

A true dragon. In'nin responded.

They bowed together, turning to leave and continuing their now silent conversation. 

That arrogance will be her downfall... 

And she'll bring the kingdom with her.