《Elyn's Tear》 1 - The King is Dead A murmur shook the ground throughout all of Esyrene. The hum of a collective whisper hadn¡¯t stirred the world with such grief and disquiet in centuries. For the humans of Nelthemar, were a bell to ever toll more solemnly than it did that night across every castle in the province, it might herald the end of days. As for the dwarves of Myskordan, a very different ritual took hold of the capital city of Arz-Devar. At the castle¡¯s pinnacle, a soft flame flickered into being. A torch rose as high as its holder¡¯s arm could reach, the light revealing swaths of other dwarves surrounding him, still and silent, their own torches yet unlit. The first torch holder began to sing. His throat-chant became a wave that washed over the others, spreading from the heart of the castle along the battlements, to the entire stretch of the city¡¯s rugged walls. So, too, did the flickering torchlight spread, blooming along every inch of the perimeter until the city was enveloped in light. Voices deep and robust produced a reverberation that demanded the senses of all within its embrace, overpowering the murmurs of impending chaos from deep within the earth. All who inhabited the city awoke to the vibrations. Dwarves of all ages, children, adults, elders, stood in thresholds or opened windows to the cold night. Hundreds, then thousands of voices joined in. The song trickled further into the streets until it enveloped the entire city. Over and over, in their ancient tongue, they chanted, ¡°The king who would rule for two hundred years.¡± A young boy reluctantly bleated his contribution at his mother¡¯s behest. His hazel eyes traced the path of a lithe, shadowy male figure weaving between houses and buildings. No one else seemed to notice. A pair of penetrating scarlet eyes glanced back and met the boy¡¯s gaze. A dark elf, half man by his beige-tinged complexion. ¡°Mumma,¡± the boy said, tugging at the loose skirt of his mother¡¯s dress. She paid him no mind but for an irritated nudge to continue singing. He kept his gaze fixed on the dark elf. Short waves of raven hair whipped about, poking out from beneath his hood as he turned away and broke his gaze. He vanished into the shadows of an alleyway, and the boy lost sight of him. Where the light still faintly touched, another figure, a slender woman, emerged with catlike movements from behind a stack of crates and followed him. ¡°What should we do?¡± the woman asked in short bursts of breath as she hurried to catch up. What was visible of her tanned face, covered by a mask which sat along her cheekbones, was flushed with worry. ¡°We need to get back to Ransvale,¡± the half-elf said without slowing his pace. ¡°And we need to be quick.¡± ¡°Vethirn, we¡¯re a world away. How are we going to get back before the bridge floods?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll find a wizard.¡± Vethirn lowered his voice as they reached the end of the alleyway, where a strip of light flooded the gap between it and the next. Both sides were clear at ground level, but open windows rang with chants from above. The half-elf slunk across to the safety of the shadows, where he awaited his partner. ¡°A wizard? In Myskordan?¡± the woman asked as she crossed over the strip of light. Once she caught up with him, she continued, ¡°While they¡¯re mourning their king, moreover?¡± ¡°The reach of the Apo¡¯s power here is severely understated, Avara. Besides, not all in Myskordan are dwarves, and not all dwarves are utility purists who blindly worship the first king to treat them like sentient beings. Even in this mountain¡¯s breadth there are people who think freely.¡± A silent pause passed between the two. ¡°Do you really think they did it?¡± Grave uncertainty weighed on the pitch of the woman¡¯s voice. ¡°Who else would?¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°But we had a deal.¡± Her words froze Vethirn in his tracks. ¡°Avara. Surely you¡¯re not that naive.¡± After a few steps further, they came to the end of another stretch. Vethirn craned his neck to peek around the corner and spotted a number of guards, some posted, others patrolling. All were singing ¨C an unusual display, one that struck him as somewhat unsettling. He looked to Avara, cocking his head to the left. ¡°Are you ready?¡± he asked. ¡°How many are there?¡± ¡°At least seven. Not counting any that might be hiding behind the parapet.¡± ¡°Do they have bows?¡± He nodded. ¡°You¡¯re mad.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± said Vethirn, extending a hand. ¡°Just don¡¯t let go.¡± She did not accept his invitation. ¡°Isn¡¯t there another way?¡± Avara did not often worry. Usually sharp and confident, her eyes drooped and widened with uncertainty. Even in the shadows, they gleamed like polished amber. Vethirn grabbed her by the wrist and turned her to face him. ¡°Just don¡¯t let go,¡± he repeated, channeling invisibility from his hands in splotches as he laced their fingers together. ¡°How¡ª¡± A sudden jerk interrupted Avara¡¯s question as Vethirn whisked her away, running. Both were now cloaked entirely with invisibility, leaving only a slight distortion in their shape as they rushed through the streets. Keeping a firm grip on her hand, Vethirn led her with a sense of certainty he could only muster for her sake. Breaths shortening and sweat forming on his brow, he swiveled his head in search of shelter or escape. He¡¯d only guessed they might find a breach in the city¡¯s wall to squeeze through, or at least a sewer entrance somewhere along the road parallel. He had lied, too, about the reach and accessibility of magic; in truth, Vethirn wasn¡¯t sure how long he could keep his energy flowing to shroud them, or if they¡¯d happen upon a pair of eyes keen enough to spot them. Adrenaline gushed through his veins and twisted his stomach. He was sure of nothing. Avara tripped and skidded, gasping as something grazed her calf and landed with a thud behind her left heel. Feeling the pull of her weight as she faltered, Vethirn stopped and steadied his arm to help her right herself. He looked down at the object now planted in the ground behind them. An arrow. How¡ª Above them, in his periphery, new movements drew his attention. He glanced up at the top of the wall where the guards, still chanting, were now readying their bows. Others, armed with swords and axes, burst from a nearby tower and set after them. Patches of clothing and skin left the shroud of invisibility as Vethirn¡¯s energy reserves began to wane. They could waste no more precious time standing still. With one last tug on Avara¡¯s hand, he took momentum and sped onward. Dwarves were not known for their prowess in archery ¨C even less under the distraction of chants for their fallen king ¨C but their aim was sure enough. Arrows flew, piercing crates and barrels of fruit and booze, toppling stacks of empty buckets, and marring vacant market stalls as the two weaved between them for cover. Splinters cracked beneath their feet. The tang of wine permeated the air as they splashed through pulp-ridden puddles. Their concealment faded more by the second. Trying in vain to focus his energy on restoring it, Vethirn struggled to keep his pace. His body grew weak, heart pounding out of his chest as his reserves drained to no avail. The two were left vulnerable in plain sight. Another wave of uncertainty flooded his thoughts as the clangor of their pursuers¡¯ plate armor drew nearer and nearer. A maddening swell of chants surrounded them. He was not sure how much longer he could run. ¡°They¡¯re gaining on us,¡± said Avara. Neither panicked nor frenzied, her voice resonated with a tinge of defeat. The lump in her throat made itself known. Vethirn¡¯s own weight became a wall in front of him, pushing back with greater force the further they ran. Regret pulsed through him ¨C had he conserved his magic, they¡¯d have already made it to safety. The only choice he had left was to surrender his focus. In doing so, he released Avara¡¯s hand as well, but felt no relief from the fatigue he¡¯d already imposed upon himself. Vision blurring, he squinted at a dark, narrow alleyway between the city wall and the courier¡¯s office. A figure stood there, clad in the same heavy armor as the guards ¨C too broad a fit for his shoulders and looking overall cumbersome against his frame, which was quite narrow for a dwarf. His unkempt blond beard, riddled with mats and tangles, revealed his identity among the faceless ¨C but only to the two fugitives who recognized him. Beldroth? ¡°Beldroth!¡± Avara said, keeping her voice hushed. Having found a burst of energy amidst renewed hope, the two made a dash toward their friend. Beldroth stifled a smile as they approached. He made a show of apprehending them, chanting with more fervor than the other guards who stopped in their tracks when they noticed the spectacle. The archers, too, ceased their fire. As the dwarf dragged them away, Vethirn and Avara withheld their myriad questions and joined the pantomime with kicking and flailing. It was not long, however, before Vethirn was overcome with fatigue. His vision faded, descending into complete blackness but for the twinkling wisps of torchlight, and the chants all around him subsided to a muffled lullaby. 2 - An Old Friend ¡°Lellia,¡± said a tired, ragged voice. The old woman rushed into the bedroom and drew back the curtains, letting the sunrise beam through the window. Unsure of whether her ward was fast asleep or had finally succumbed to her self-imposed decrepitude, she shook the young woman awake. Though more than fifty years her junior, she had far less substance and more palpable bones. ¡°What is this?¡± Lellia asked, coughing and wincing. Waving her caregiver away, she blinked the thick film from her eyes and squinted at the sun. A wave of pity for her poor condition softened the old woman¡¯s demeanor, but she spoke with purpose nonetheless. ¡°Someone will be here for you soon. A visitor. And you¡¯d best be wide awake when they arrive. I¡¯ll bring you breakfast.¡± ¡°A visitor? I¡¯ve refused visitors for two years, what makes you assume I wouldn¡¯t refuse one now?¡± ¡°I suggest you don¡¯t refuse this one,¡± the old woman said. The corners of her mouth tucked themselves into deep wrinkles as her furrowed brows twitched with uncertainty. It was not often that she wavered. ¡°Who is it?¡± asked Lellia. ¡°They¡¯ve asked me not to divulge.¡± ¡°It¡¯s someone from the guild, isn¡¯t it?¡± The old woman said nothing and turned to leave. ¡°What do they want? Have they found out¡ª¡± ¡°There was nothing to find out. Only a fool would have believed you ill, though you¡¯ve withered away enough to have a convincing argument. You live because you¡¯ve been under my protection. Remember that you come from a guild of assassins, not jesters.¡± She stepped away, the pat of her shoes echoing down the hall. Lellia sat frozen in her bed, her mind reeling, passing over every possibility for the motives of someone who would visit her. Worry settled into her gut and sunk lower with each passing second. She chased her senses, closing her eyes to catch her short and troubled breaths first. Dust inflamed her nose and tongue with an unpleasant mustiness. Weakness overwhelmed her wilting body. She waited for a calm to pass over her, then reached for it and wrapped herself in it. When she opened her eyes, now somewhat centered, she traced the shadow of the window pane across the pinewood floor. The light made her head throb; she couldn¡¯t recall the last time someone had opened the curtains. The old woman soon returned with a tray of food. As she set it down, Lellia feasted her eyes upon a bowl of piping hot porridge with berries and a plate of bacon and eggs. Despite its simplicity as well as her agitated stomach, it called forth an appetite. To add to her delight, a cup of green tea sat at the edge of the tray, garnished with a black jasmine flower and tantalizing her with its fragrant vapor. ¡°Is this my last meal?¡± asked Lellia, half-joking to ease her suspense. ¡°It very well could be,¡± said the old woman, ¡°If you choose to act unwisely.¡± ¡°You know what this is all about, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Of course. But it is not my business. From the mouth of a retiree, it would be mere gossip to indulge you. Not to mention a breach of personal confidence.¡± ¡°A retiree, a mere bystander, yet you carry out the mercy order that¡¯s kept me alive for the past two years. The guild¡¯s rules do baffle me at times.¡± Lellia picked up her cup of tea and cradled it in both hands. ¡°Thank you for breakfast. Let me know before you show my guest in.¡± The old woman left without a word. Lellia sipped from her cup, letting the steam fill her nose. The dry sting of dust fled in an instant, overpowered by the floral aroma that awoke memories from the furthest corners of her consciousness. There, in a moonlit garden where black jasmine flowers adorned her mahogany braids, she found the pale gray face of someone she once knew. A silken dress, the same deep black as the flowers in her hair, flowed at her feet as they ambled across white paving stones. Arched trellises overgrown with ivy hid them from the world. But the daydream soon soured when she reached out to grasp his hand. Someone had beaten her to it ¨C a third presence when she¡¯d assumed in all her naivety that they were alone. The other was far more beautiful, with voluminous dark hair, sun-kissed skin, and a contagious smile. She meant no malice, but this knowledge did not soothe Lellia. Feeling her appetite wane as it sunk into a pit of loneliness, she returned to reality before eating anything at all became a lost cause. After breakfast, she found enough energy to brush out her hair and make herself as presentable as was possible in her sickly, unbathed condition. She¡¯d just barely finished donning a clean shirt when a knock sounded at the door. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothes, she made her way over to open it. ¡°Are they here already?¡± she asked, assuming the old woman had knocked to notify her. The voice that responded, however, clear and crisp with a mischievous inflection, was one for which she could never have prepared enough. ¡°Am I early?¡± asked the visitor. ¡°Take your time. I¡¯ve got plenty of it.¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Lellia held her breath as the shock of realization rippled through her body. It soon faded, and she choked out his name. ¡°Vethirn?¡± ¡°Who else?¡± She had hoped for anyone else. ¡°What do you want from me?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell you everything you want to know, once you open the door.¡± Lellia lowered her hand from her chest. Her fingers brushed against the doorknob, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to turn it. The slight metallic ringing of contact did not slip past Vethirn¡¯s keen ears; he knew well the sounds of her hesitation. ¡°Don¡¯t overthink this, Lellia,¡± he said. ¡°Toss out whatever inane presumptions you might have regarding my intentions. I¡¯m here to talk.¡± If there was one thing Lellia knew of Vethirn, it was that he never lied ¨C to her, anyway. Not even for the purpose of sparing her feelings. For that to change in two years of her absence, however, was not beyond possibility. Still, as much as she wanted him to leave, to pretend even this much of an encounter never happened, inklings of doubt needled her. Were she to reject his visitation, she was well aware that he would not simply allow her to wither away in peace. She opened the door, keeping her chin low and her gaze averted, wanting to hide. Stepping aside to let him in, she said nothing and waited for him to speak first. His eyes wandered the room, surveying every inch in contemplative silence. Moments of agonizing anticipation came and went, then he fixed his focus on her. ¡°You look unwell,¡± he said. ¡°After two years¡¯ worth of investment, I would hope for no less than a decent payoff. You always were ambitious.¡± ¡°Did you have a purpose for coming here other than to amuse yourself with backhanded remarks?¡± ¡°I did, but I would be remiss if I didn¡¯t indulge in some of our old banter.¡± A smirk played across his lips. ¡°You seem guarded. Are you afraid of an old friend?¡± ¡°Even in my current state, I¡¯m not threatened by anything of your stature,¡± said Lellia, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve in a display of nonchalance. ¡°Now, do tell me why you¡¯re here.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to say it¡¯s because I¡¯ve missed you,¡± Vethirn answered. ¡°But the truth of the matter is, you¡¯re needed.¡± ¡°Needed?¡± ¡°Needed. As much as I hate having to humble myself coming to you, the guild is desperate.¡± ¡°You¡¯re desperate.¡± ¡°Fine, yes, I¡¯m desperate.¡± ¡°Very well. And what do you have to persuade me?¡± ¡°Your life, of course. I¡¯ve rescinded your mercy order as of today.¡± For the first time since his arrival, Lellia looked him straight in the eyes. Her brows furrowed in bewilderment, and her lips parted with disbelief. After a few moments of holding her gaze against his deadpan stare, she burst into uncontrollable laughter. ¡°You have rescinded it?¡± she asked with the first breath she could catch. ¡°Forget old Velius and fuck everything else we know, right? You have rescinded my mercy order?¡± Before tears of laughter could start spilling out, she seized her composure and shook her head. Vethirn did not waver. ¡°Velius? You really have been kept in the dark ¨C I¡¯m pleased to hear that. Good old Velius disappeared two years ago, around the same time you had your little mishap, whatever that may be.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t seriously mean¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re looking at the Tear¡¯s acting guildmaster,¡± Vethirn said. ¡°And with enough time passed that I¡¯m in the preliminary stages of getting that pesky prefix removed.¡± His words struck Lellia speechless, leaving her jaw to hang agape. ¡°Don¡¯t look that surprised,¡± Vethirn said with a chuckle. ¡°No, no¡­¡± Lellia trailed off, relaxing her posture as she gathered her thoughts. ¡°You don¡¯t strike me as unfit for the job. I just never imagined Velius¡­¡± ¡°No one did. He left nothing but a vague note. It wasn¡¯t forged, either.¡± Vethirn¡¯s slight smirk faded as he recalled everything that had transpired. The tension between them melted in mutual sorrow for their once cherished guildmaster. ¡°Above all the reasons I resented you, his disappearance left me filled with hatred. And then I hated you more, because after everything, the gods still saw fit that I would miss you. This visit does not come without sacrifice on my part. I had to swallow every last bit of pride and dignity I could muster.¡± ¡°What am I needed for?¡± Lellia asked, understanding her position. An uncomfortable prickle of guilt crawled under her skin. Were she to refuse him, she would die ¨C and things would be better for it. ¡°King Arzaneld is dead. Murdered while he was visiting Ransvale. We were framed for the assassination and driven from our headquarters. Now we need to make things right.¡± ¡°Who would believe the guild would want anything to do with that?¡± ¡°Everyone, it seems. We were foolish enough to make deals with what turned out to be a dwarven extremist group that wanted to branch out here. Wanted to start by doing away with Arzaneld. They call themselves the Sun''s Forsaken.¡± ¡°What deal did you have with them?¡± ¡°That Avara and I would provide aid at the source in Myskordan to facilitate their spread through the rest of Nelthemar. In return, they would stay out of Ransvale.¡± ¡°Did you know they were going to kill Arzaneld?¡± ¡°Yes. And I told them they¡¯d be better off waiting until he made his rounds to Wyvern¡¯s Rest. They¡¯d have their pick of factions to blame there.¡± ¡°But none as influential yet intimate as Elyn¡¯s Tear.¡± Vethirn nodded. Elyn¡¯s Tear had no roots outside of Ransvale, thus no one to set after the Sun''s Forsaken if they dispersed. But they did have enough of a hold over the city that they were presumed to be the only ones capable of killing a king. ¡°They seemed genuinely well-intentioned,¡± said Vethirn. ¡°The work they do for the dwarves in places where they¡¯re a minority is admirable. Even some of their reasons for wanting Arzaneld dead ¨C as much as he was liked ¨C were persuasive. Not that I cared one way or another, until they decided to do their dirty work here.¡± ¡°And where do I play into all this? Why did you come back for me when you have active guild members who aren¡¯t in such sad shape?¡± ¡°Because you were second in line to succeed Velius. Anyone can put on muscle with little trouble, including you. But while I don¡¯t aim to inflate your ego, no one else has your repertoire of skills. Without us as a team, we¡¯re doomed to fail.¡± The two allowed for a mutual silence to linger as they absorbed an understanding of the new reality that lay before them. A begrudging acceptance. In his contemplation, Vethirn¡¯s elven grace fell over his half-human visage. A pointed ear poked out between the waves of his hair, and his lips sat pursed beneath the angular tip of his nose. Lellia forced her gaze away from him before she wound up lost. ¡°Give me one night to gather myself and my things,¡± she said. ¡°Then I will be at your aid.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± said Vethirn in response. ¡°I¡¯ll send someone to escort you to our new hideout. If you¡¯re not there by sunset tomorrow, I will find you.¡± Lellia nodded as Vethirn turned to head for the door. She said no more and watched as he walked away. When he approached the threshold, he hung back for one last remark before leaving. ¡°I look forward to working with you, Lellia.¡± 3 - Bitter Acceptance That afternoon, the first whiffs of warm broth and herbs caught Lellia¡¯s attention, prompting her to head to the kitchen and deliver the news of her imminent departure to her caregiver. She entered as the old woman was preparing a stew, chopping up a carrot next to a steaming cauldron. Clasping her hands together, she offered her assistance. ¡°Is there anything I can help with?¡± The old woman set down her knife and turned to face her. Not once since Lellia moved in did she offer to help prepare a meal. She studied her expression and found a new glint of purpose in her emerald eyes. ¡°You¡¯re going after all.¡± Lellia nodded. The old woman pointed to an oversized onion on the countertop. ¡°I hate slicing those damned things. Always irritating my eyes. There¡¯s another chopping board over there, if you truly want to help.¡± Lellia rushed over and pulled the drawer open to find a knife. She set the chopping board flat on the counter and rolled the onion onto it. With swift, dexterous movements, she cut off the stems and roots before easing into the flow of slicing it into smaller pieces. ¡°The deft hands of a former assassin never falter even in matters of the kitchen, it seems,¡± said the old woman, staring wide-eyed at Lellia¡¯s precisive work. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d say Vethirn offered you more than just your job back.¡± ¡°He has nothing of interest to me,¡± said Lellia, an overstated aloofness in her tone. ¡°I¡¯m going because I didn¡¯t want your bed linens to be stained with my blood.¡± ¡°That sense of humor you two always had¡­¡± The old woman shook her head and tossed the slices of carrot into the stew. ¡°How was it, truly?¡± ¡°How was what?¡± ¡°What do you mean, ¡®how was what?¡¯ You¡¯ve just seen your partner in crime for the first time in two years. How was it?¡± Lellia tightened her grip on the handle of her knife as she ceased chopping. ¡°I think it¡¯s time you let go of your Lemrasi fantasies, Mother. We¡¯re a bit too old now for you to be projecting them onto us.¡± She shuffled over to the pot and scraped the onions into the stock. Two years. In two years, she had not called the old woman Mother. It was forbidden for guild members who were not in active participation. As often as she addressed her as such in years past, she never got used to it. The title left a strange itch on her tongue ¨C perhaps attributed to the fact that she never called anyone else the same in earnest. ¡°I was asking a question, dear. No childish or fantastical implications.¡± Mother placed a hand upon Lellia¡¯s bony shoulder, turning her so they stood face-to-face. ¡°I don¡¯t play coy. Nor do any fiendish gods plant any delusions in my head. Not yet, anyway. Hopefully I still have a few good years.¡± ¡°Very well. It was fine,¡± said Lellia, brushing the old woman¡¯s hand away before returning to her station. ¡°Though I¡¯d have preferred someone different. Perhaps Beldroth. Maybe Avara.¡± ¡°Agonizing, then.¡± The chopping board suffered a series of new dents as Lellia cut into another onion, but she said nothing. ¡°Are you ever going to tell them what you did to end up here?¡± asked Mother. ¡°No. I¡¯m not. And frankly, Mother, I came to help with cooking as a distraction from these matters.¡± ¡°I see,¡± the old woman said, a low grumble betraying her disappointment. ¡°Well, in that case, let¡¯s enjoy making dinner together. This may be our only opportunity, after all.¡± Their coordinated efforts continued, intertwined with much lighter talk, as the hour ticked away. The cauldron simmered as they tidied up. Once they finished, a few hours still remained for ingredients to soften and flavors to mix. As Lellia scrubbed away at a stubborn stain on the countertop, winded and feeble, she leaned in to relieve the weight of her own body on her legs. For the duration of her supposed infirmity, she¡¯d rarely left her bed for reasons other than hygienic. Standing for an entire hour was something she¡¯d not done since the night she arrived, collapsing at the old woman¡¯s doorstep after sprinting there from the furthest stretches of the city. ¡°You¡¯ve helped enough. I will take it from here,¡± said Mother, reaching over to take the rag from her. Lellia put up no resistance as she fell under a wave of dizziness. Clutching her forehead, she stumbled to the nearest chair and crumpled up onto it with a sharp exhale. ¡°What am I going to do?¡± she asked, no longer able to dam up her worries. Her willpower was as diminished as her strength. ¡°You¡¯re going to do what you need to, as always. You¡¯re by far not yet old enough that you can¡¯t rebuild your constitution.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not just my physical fitness ¨C I don¡¯t know if I can face everyone. I didn¡¯t just let down Vethirn. There are still dozens of others.¡± ¡°Is there a single one that will be harder to meet face-to-face than Vethirn?¡± asked Mother. Her query was met with a long silence. ¡°Perhaps there would be, if Velius were still around.¡± The old woman nodded. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure what to think when I first heard Vethirn had taken his position. It hardly seemed out of place, but I still worried for him taking on such a responsibility.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°That¡¯s understandable, what with all the years you spent raising him and doting on him. Favoring him, even.¡± The last remark earned her a glance of equal scorn and surprise. ¡°Each and every one of you were my children where I had none. I favor no one.¡± ¡°Even mothers play favorites,¡± Lellia said. Lifting herself to her feet, she kept one hand held to her forehead as if to dispel her dizziness, the other flared out at her side to keep her balance. ¡°Not this one,¡± Mother said, rushing to her side to help her. Shaking her head, Lellia managed to right herself. ¡°Call for me when dinner is ready,¡± she said. ¡°I will bathe and settle my mind.¡± Very well,¡± Mother said. She returned to the pot to stir it, watching over her shoulder with a concerned glare until Lellia turned the corner out of her sight. Lavender and honey filled the air with a pleasant, calming sweetness. Lellia swirled her hand throughout the warm bath, its water clouded with a generous pouring of goat¡¯s milk. Drops pooled at her fingertips as she withdrew them, and after shaking them off, she pulled her shirt over her head. A new curiosity welled up within her. She turned to the mirror, which was draped with a bolt of heavy burgundy cloth coated in dust. Having been apt to hide from her reflection until now, she hesitated before lifting it away. When she caught sight of herself, still holding the cloth, she fought a colossal urge to clutch it to her chest, to protect herself from this husk of who she once was. However brushed she might have tried to make it appear, her hair still stuck out in frizzled strands. Its once vibrant, reddish sheen faded to a sickly, mousy bronze. A face where she never found much beauty to begin with had become gaunt and pallid, cheeks sunken in and jawline rigid with jutting bone. Outright ugly. Each one of her ribs was present and accounted for as well, and as she ran her fingers over them, perhaps the most disheartening of her aesthetic losses left her muttering in grief. ¡°Gods, even my tits are gone.¡± She didn¡¯t care to see more. Shaking her head, she stepped out of her trousers and lowered herself into the bath. The warmth cradled her, sinking into her skin and sending tingles through her body. Indistinct, blurred thoughts which raced across her mind soon slowed and retreated one by one, falling into the water. They floated on the surface like petals, making themselves known. King Arzaneld dies, and so I must leave my comforts and live. Velius disappears, and so I must return. Vethirn lacks all manner of faith in himself, and so I must have enough for both of us, else I die at his hand. Perhaps I should have. Perhaps mercy was too good for me this whole time. Quite some time had passed since she last truly listened to her own thoughts ¨C how bitter they¡¯d grown as she became more helpless day by day. Her eyelids became heavy as her worries dissolved, melting into reluctant acceptance. Shivering away the last whit of discomfort, she stirred a fleck of lavender with her finger until she drifted off. Lellia returned to her room in the evening, grateful for the chance to hide away after a somewhat busier day than usual. The conversation surrounding dinner proved just as grievous and avoidant as that during its preparation, but the food was enjoyable enough to recompense. She¡¯d hoped for a more easeful experience spending her last day with Mother, but she found her nerves clashing insurmountably with the old woman¡¯s curiosity. The curtains were still open since that morning, and as time passed, the harsh sunlight had given way to the soothing glow of the moons. Zendine streamed in through the window and tinged the room purple, unhindered by the silvery light of its waning twin Pir. Instead of shutting it out, Lellia accepted the moon¡¯s invitation, swayed by the beauty of the night. She unhooked the latch and pushed the window open, letting the breeze caress her cheeks. After avoiding such simple pleasures for so long, she grasped a thread of gratitude for the thought of more nights like these to come. She held onto it as tightly as she could. Though she wanted to linger for a moment more, little time remained until she would need to rest ¨C or at least try to do so. Her things were still not packed in preparation for leaving, and she¡¯d spent the entire day fighting off the dread of even looking at her old gear. Each time the thought arose, her stomach bubbled with unease. The chest beside her wardrobe, tucked away in its shadow, burned the corner of her eye and demanded her attention. With a heavy, unavailing sigh, Lellia trudged over to it, retrieving the key from the wardrobe first. She stood, staring down at the chest, trying to muster up the courage to open it. While each preparation she¡¯d made that day was a step further from the embrace of isolation and closer to her former life in the cold unknown, this one in particular would be a ritual of confirmation. Only with the utmost certainty could she initiate it. In that moment, one final pang of desperation sent her to the furthest corners of her mind, searching for any other option but to go. She could leave, flee to anywhere else in Nelthemar or beyond ¨C but the Tear owned every cove, every nook, every path of escape. With the land bridge into Oakenvale Pass flooded for the season, too, the route north by thoroughfare was no option. Vethirn would find her no matter what. But even if a clear path to freedom were laid out in front of her like an empty corridor, it would be the coward¡¯s way out. This she knew, and it led her gently to the acceptance she needed to find. Were she to let the others down again for the sake of saving herself, the cost could be their lives this time. Hands shaking beyond control, she knelt in front of the chest and wiped a swath through the dust. The lock clicked open as she turned the key, and after setting it down, she placed her thumbs in the crooks between the wood and metal for leverage. Eyes shut tightly, she shed the tension in her body as the last whispers of doubt quieted themselves. A crack sounded as she lifted the lid no more than an inch. ¡°Hearken, Elyn, goddess of life,¡± she muttered, ¡°and weep, for I must seize your gift from your children when just.¡± The hinges cried out as she opened the chest completely. Resting her hands on its edges, she gazed inside at its contents, untouched by dust and time. She reached in and took out her clothes first, a sleek set of black leathers with a hooded cloak. She was certain they¡¯d now hang like a sack on her ragged body. Beneath them lay a folded parchment, the only letter she kept ¨C the only one she had on her the day she left. In one snappy movement, took it out, and stuffed it away in the pocket of her cloak. A slight sneer tugged at her upper lip. ¡°Pass their candle with due care and tenderness,¡± she continued, ¡°to your Forgotten, Lusmir.¡± The last items, set aside from the others, were the tools of her profession. A belt, which matched the rest of her clothes, housed a sheathed dagger and a smaller knife, vials of dried-up poisons, and a pouch of darts. She reached in and draped it across her lap. A great hesitation overcame her as she tried to remove the dagger from its sheath, and so she continued her invocation louder and clearer to drown out all that might challenge her resolve. ¡°Let him punish them duly for their misdeeds, and me for mine against them when my time comes.¡± She examined the blade. It shone without flaw, warping her reflection. No trace remained of the blood she¡¯d spilled that night; she¡¯d doused it in the river in a desperate bid for absolution. Memories of twisted faces and screams of terror flashed before her, leaving her momentarily frozen, statue-like. Still, she collected herself and resheathed her dagger, reaching next for the knife. She pressed the tip of the knife to the pad of her middle finger, wincing as it pierced her skin. Holding her breath and biting her lower lip, she dragged the blade down. The pain dulled after only a few seconds, and she continued until she reached the top of her wrist. As warm blood pooled and dripped onto the floor, she finished her prayer. No more was there any hope of going back. ¡°Sing not a dirge for them, but a lullaby, so that death may be a cradle where all return to innocence.¡± 4 - The Dwolgin Dusk laid a cloak of dark blue over the twilight, quieting the city and enticing its inhabitants with thoughts of rest. Dwindling crowds wandered the streets, faces sagging with the weight of the day¡¯s work. Among the weary trod Vethirn, his own ragged face shrouded under a hood. Days had passed since he¡¯d rested in any meaningful capacity. After escaping from Arz-Devar, he returned to a displaced guild ¨C and he had to dedicate every second to eking out a new hideaway with enough resources to rebuild and survive. Thus, having spent the better part of the day trekking across to the eastern side of the city and back, he¡¯d begun to feel as if his body were reduced to scraps of skin clinging to bone. And as bits and pieces of his conversation with Lellia repeated in his head, his temples ached with annoyance. Still, he kept up his pace and blended into the more tightly packed groups, scanning the heads and bodies around him with every reflex at the ready. Though on his guard, he managed to maintain a relaxed demeanor. Clacking hooves and rolling carts faded further into the distance until the only sound of toil left was the clang of the blacksmith¡¯s hammer. More and more, the crowds thinned as the roads branched away from the square and into areas of residence. When sheer numbers could no longer provide him cover, he still sought the most occupied path at each turn. His headache intensified with the paranoia stirring in his skull; agents of the Sun¡¯s Forsaken had seen his face, his stature, his gait ¨C and they could be anywhere. As he neared the edge of the city, moving along the last row of buildings before the road extended to the city¡¯s outskirts, Vethirn was alone. Only when the light became scarce did the solitude sink in deep enough for him to feel a presence prickling at his back, as if following him at a short distance. A rustling in the bushes accompanied the sensation, and so he told himself it was only a small animal ¨C but he did not manage to convince himself. He lowered his hand to the crossbow at his hip, swift yet subtle enough that the cover of his cloak concealed his movements. The rustling weaved from bush to bush, seeming to pick up the pace each time he did. He followed the noise with only his eyes, shifting them from side to side each time it crossed the path. Slowing down, he let the source of the noise keep its momentum and continue past him. A red twinerat ¨C a small, agile, harmless rodent, leapt out onto the path in front of him. Like a strand of silk, its body moved in light, feathery waves. It stood on its hind legs, beady eyes studying him as a little pink nose twitched with curiosity. Vethirn stared back at the rodent. It blinked once, then turned its head up to sniff the air. As he relaxed his shoulders, the creature bounded away, threading its long, thin body between two rocks. Taking on a more confident stride while still holding onto a thread of doubt, the half-elf pressed forward. False alarm, he told himself. Or red herring. He came up to an arc of trees which overlooked the torchlit path ahead. The vibrance of wildflowers burst from every unoccupied inch of ground. As he passed under, he took in the sights of nature, ignoring a nagging uncertainty. The earlier distraction and the beauty of his surroundings served only as a temporary reprieve from his worries. As he continued further, it tapered, and the lingering presence continued to impose itself to a point beyond denial. Someone was following him. ?r, he mouthed. A tingle sparked at the back of his neck, then radiated to the top of his head and down his arms and legs. A resonant shell of magic cupped around him, amplifying all his senses. He listened with intent past the blood pulsing in his head and the steady breaths flowing through his nose like wind. From behind him came dry-nosed breaths tailed by a slight grunt. Heavy, irregular footsteps shuffled along with his own. The follower reeked of booze and tooth-rot. A glance at the ground revealed his warped shadow. It was a dwarf, somehow making use of magic that kept him hidden to not only sight, but to every sense. The dwarf cleared his throat, assaulting Vethirn¡¯s ears with the splattering sound of sticky mucus as clothing whispered with movement. He was reaching for something. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Vethirn drew his crossbow. He turned around and fixed his aim on his follower, which appeared as no more than an ethereal, dwarven shape. The figure stumbled back as he realized he was being targeted. He let his dagger clink to the ground as he held open his empty hands. Slightly lowering his crossbow, Vethirn studied the cowering dwarf. Few of his facial features were distinguishable, but his glossy eyes reflected fear and confusion. Having caught his footing, the dwarf took a few intentional steps back, but the half-elf kept his weapon raised. His ears twitched as a lighter set of footsteps rushed in behind him. Approaching on his left, a much smaller attacker cut the air with a violent swing of a knife. Though Vethirn managed to jump out of its path and protect his side, his arm took the slash. Fatigue had dampened his reflexes. The blade ripped through his sleeve and gashed his skin, how deep he wasn¡¯t sure as he was gushing adrenaline to stay awake ¨C and alive. Extending his leg, he used his attacker¡¯s momentum to trip him. The small dwarf stumbled, and Vethirn took the opportunity to glance behind in the direction of the other. He was still running away, and it seemed his invisibility was wearing off. Fortunately, there was no sign of any others besides the two; had they brought company, Vethirn may well have accepted his death. To keep from falling further into exhaustion while he still had a fighting chance, he dispelled his magic. The smaller of the two, proving to be quite agile, sprung off his hand and recovered in a crouched position. Face-to-face with Vethirn¡¯s crossbow, he avoided making any sudden movements. He was of a subset of dwarves not often spotted in Nelthemar ¨C still decidedly Myskori in origin, yet shorter and more human-like in proportion. Were he to stand at full height, he¡¯d be no taller than three-and-a-half feet. His kind called themselves the Dwolgin ¨C ¡°knee-stood¡± in the Myskori vernacular. ¡°Thought we wore ya down enough to pluck ya out," the Dwolgin said. ¡°Not yet," said Vethirn, suppressing a heavy blink. A stinging twinge poked its head through the numbness in his arm, causing the grip of his trembling hand to waver. His sleeve, now soaked with blood, clung to his skin. The part of him that wanted to shoot the man in front of him begged his integrity for leniency, begged it to claim even the smallest victory after such a miserable streak of failure. But something gave him pause. ¡°In that case, I can wait here ¡¯til ya pass out,¡± the Dwolgin said. ¡°Won¡¯t be long, from the looks of it.¡± ¡°If only you had that kind of time.¡± ¡°Then go on and shoot if that¡¯s what ya plan to do.¡± ¡°I¡¯d prefer if you told me where the lot of you are holed up.¡± ¡°So the boss can have my hide instead of you? Worst offer I¡¯ve heard in bloody ages. You ought to count your luck spent, seeing as you¡¯re still alive. How ¡¯bout this, ya twit ¨C let me go, and my friend and I won¡¯t tell anyone we saw ya.¡± ¡°Of course, I most assuredly can rely on an agent of the Forsaken to uphold his word,¡± said Vethirn, his sarcasm unfailing even in his wearied state. ¡°Go. Tell them you saw me. Paint a breathtaking picture of the scenery if you¡¯d like. But I will know if you follow me a single step from here. I suggest you don''t.¡± ¡°That¡¯s more like it,¡± the Dwolgin said with a smirk. ¡°If there''s one thing you can take my word for, it''s that followin¡¯ you ain¡¯t worth a bolt to the chest.¡± ¡°Few things are.¡± With his crossbow still aimed, Vethirn tilted his head in the direction of the other dwarf. The Dwolgin nodded, his brows drawn close together. His amber eyes tautened, guarding a glint of vague emotion ¨C irritation, and perhaps gratitude. All hesitance spent, he seized his freedom and scurried off to catch up with his friend. Once both had left his sight, Vethirn tucked away his weapon. His bleeding had let up somewhat, but the pain prodded him to reach for the bandages in his pack. Indulging his instinct to rest for just a moment, he let his heavy eyelids fall shut. As he rummaged through his bag, he recollected the short encounter over and over. It seemed not all of the Forsaken were so blindly devout, as the pair quite clearly valued their lives more than their cause. But although they may have been simply following orders, perhaps he¡¯d been too merciful, too sympathetic to their plight. Regardless, with the evidence of what had transpired now etched into his skin, he knew one thing to be true. Avara is going to kill me. 5 - Untimely The early morning¡¯s blue glow poked its fingers through the dense overgrowth. Sunrise would arrive soon, and Vethirn, having stopped to rest and tend to himself, was only just returning to his guild¡¯s hideaway. They¡¯d found an abandoned shack at the forested mountainside that had burned beyond livability, likely having once served as a hermit¡¯s retreat in one of the few remaining undeveloped stretches of Ransvale. Half-charred and missing a hinge, the door wobbled and scraped against the ground. Inside was barren, the walls black with soot. Cobwebs dominated every corner, creeping across the ceiling and shaking down feathery motes of dust. The only sign that anyone had been there was a trail of various footprints leading toward the hatch. Vethirn climbed down into the near-pitch darkness, guided by his keen sight and footing, then rapped on the locked door that greeted him at the bottom. ¡°Vethirn,¡± said a light but crackly voice from the other side, noting the distinct rhythm of his knocks. ¡°Was starting to think you might not be coming back.¡± A tall, peppy woman with cropped blond hair let him in, sporting a smirk that narrowed her eyes to slits. Raised in the frigid region of Chilgrave, she had the stocky stature and pale complexion of a northeastern Nelthrin. Lean yet defined muscles sculpted her entire body, pronounced by the sleeveless, belted shirt over which her arms were crossed. ¡°I thought much the same, truth be told,¡± replied Vethirn, bleary-eyed as he glanced around the foyer. Crates and sacks lay strewn about and stacked haphazardly to the ceiling, and in his absence the others had constructed a makeshift bar. Were he not so overcome with exhaustion, he might have found it amusing ¨C or even impressive. ¡°I see things have been holding up well enough here.¡± ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve gotten by just fine the past twenty-four hours. Care to divulge where you ran off to?¡± ¡°Just across town, for some supplies.¡± ¡°Odd. You sent Lossan and Beldroth to do the same. Not to mention we¡¯ve got all¡­ this.¡± The woman waved her arms about, emphasizing the sheer volume of provisions they¡¯d already amassed. ¡°But I¡¯ll give you some slack since you look absolutely fucking beat. Maybe we can talk about it once you have your wits intact.¡± ¡°Perhaps.¡± ¡°Aye, now get to bed. And hide that bandaged arm of yours ¨C someone¡¯s been worried about you.¡± Vethirn¡¯s bottom lip protruded as he let out a knowing sigh. He drew his cloak over his arm. ¡°Of course. Thank you, Gryntha.¡± ¡°My pleasure.¡± With a stiff nod, Gryntha marched on toward the bar, hands stuffed in the pockets of her form-fitted trousers. Eager to turn in, Vethirn proceeded down the narrow corridor. He passed by a number of doors on either side, but one in particular stopped him as it creaked open. A pair of amber eyes peered out from a small crack, glistening in the distant flames from the foyer. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°You,¡± said Avara, opening the door enough that she was in full view. It seemed her sneer was becoming permanent as of late ¨C perhaps for good reason. ¡°You were really about to walk past, weren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I thought everyone might be sleeping.¡± ¡°You left a vague note saying you were tending to ¡®business,¡¯ with no indication of when you would be back. There are people trying to kill all of us right now, have almost succeeded, and they know you best of all. All this, and you thought I would sleep?¡± ¡°In my naivety.¡± ¡°Where were you? What was so urgent that you couldn¡¯t send one of us instead?¡± She reached out and tried to pull Vethirn into the room, but he stepped out of her reach. ¡°We can discuss this in the morning.¡± ¡°Besides the fact that it very well is morning already ¨C I¡¯d rather not wait to find out what business you were up to when it pays us a visit.¡± Her words were beginning to fray what resilience Vethirn had left. Gnawing at it. Weighing him down even more than his own exhaustion. About this, however, she was right ¨C transparency was a matter of safety. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s fair,¡± he conceded. ¡°How fortuitous that your supposition determines all. Now speak.¡± ¡°I was seeking out allies, as few as we have left.¡± ¡°Then I was right to worry you might get yourself killed. We don¡¯t need allies, Vethirn. We need to lie low and protect ourselves.¡± ¡°No, we need to fight, Avara. We need to root out the Forsaken and absolve ourselves of this crime, the cause for which we never gave half a shit about in the first place. Not all have turned against us, and those who haven¡¯t are worth finding, however dangerous a task it may be.¡± Biting her lower lip, Avara let out a huff of frustration. Her fists tightened as she wrapped her arms around her waist, restraining a swell of rage screaming to be let free. Only her defeated sadness, rolling down her shoulders and tensing her face, had strength enough to quell it. ¡°Everything¡¯s changed so fast, Vethirn.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°But you didn¡¯t need to change along with it. I feel like I know you less every day since you stepped into the role of Velius.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve only changed as much as I¡¯ve needed to.¡± Avara shook her head. ¡°No. You didn¡¯t need to become him.¡± Vethirn was unsure whether he could argue that he hadn¡¯t ¨C not that he cared to do so. Fatigue was beginning to tighten its grip on his judgment. Of only one thing was he certain. ¡°We both should rest.¡± Avara reached out again, this time successfully grasping his arm. As she tried to coax him nearer, drawing his arm out from the cover of his cloak, he winced. ¡°You¡¯ve been hurt,¡± She loosened her grip on the sturdy, soft cotton of the bandages, and looked to his face for an explanation. ¡°I managed.¡± ¡°I suppose you did.¡± Every word Avara wanted to say pooled up into tears. She didn¡¯t want to let them fall, to leave unspoken, even if her thoughts would turn out to be purely wishful. ¡°Stay with me,¡± she pleaded. But Vethirn shook his head before she finished, as if he knew she¡¯d ask this of him. There was something he could not place ¨C something that came about her mannerisms. Perhaps it was the sudden softening of her features, or the slight tilt of her hip. The forlorn yet inviting glint in her eyes. Whatever the case, it did not seem innocent, but it was vulnerable. ¡°Let¡¯s think soundly before we change one more thing,¡± he said. To this, Avara gave a regretful nod. ¡°Very well.¡± Stepping back, she released his arm. ¡°Goodnight, Vethirn.¡± ¡°Get some rest.¡± Vethirn stifled a yawn, eager to take his own advice. He felt her gaze lingering on him as he swept away, heading for the shadowed door at the end of the hall. 6 - A Frigid Welcome At the turning point of the afternoon, Lellia came to the last stretch of the path to her destination. Though she¡¯d gotten a good night¡¯s sleep, the hours of walking chipped away at her energy, along with being subjected to the inane ramblings, arguments, and speculations of her two companions. Vethirn had sent her the usually well-mannered dwarf, Beldroth, but perhaps as a cruel joke, he paired him with a particular elf ¨C a loud, pompous Gildvar named Lossan. Together, on any occasion, the two catalyzed into the perfect antidote for the absence of headaches. ¡°I¡¯m tellin¡¯ ya, Lossan, he cut his damned ears to hide it ¨C he¡¯s a damned elf!¡± ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous. One cannot simply hide being an elf,¡± insisted the Gildvar, a lanky arm reaching up to slick back a stray chestnut lock. ¡°I assure you there are many other ways in which we¡¯re lovelier than humans. And double that for dwarves.¡± A shrill, unpleasant laugh burst from his nostrils. Beldroth took his comment in good humor, a chuckle of his own escaping from his gut. ¡°Now watch it, ya skinny prick.¡± ¡°I meant it in the nicest way,¡± Lossan assured. ¡°That said, I suppose he is quite old for a human. There¡¯s no telling where he¡¯s been and what he¡¯s done.¡± ¡°Or where he is now, for that matter! Got this princess here to thank for that.¡± Beldroth patted Lellia on the back, the force of his blocky hands knocking her off-balance. She caught her step and leapt out of his reach, then twisted around to face the duo walking backwards. ¡°See what happens if you touch me again.¡± ¡°C¡¯mon, we¡¯re all pals here, aren¡¯t we? Jokes and good fun, like old times.¡± ¡°It¡¯s hardly ¡®old times¡¯ anymore.¡± ¡°Well, ya can¡¯t always be stone-faced and pissy just ¡¯cause things ain¡¯t the same as they used to be. Now watch out.¡± Beldroth pointed forward to alert her of an impending collision with the door. She stopped, and the dwarf stepped around her, giving her a gentle push to the side. He fumbled with his keys, red nose scrunching and sniffling, then let his companions in first. Once they made it to the basement, Gryntha opened the door, her eyes widening as she caught sight of Lellia. She stood stunned for a moment before stepping out and clicking the door shut behind her. ¡°What is this, now?¡± she asked, her shock restrained under a half-whisper. ¡°Supplies, as it were,¡± said Beldroth. ¡°I think Vethirn¡¯s cracking under pressure. He¡¯s asked us to bring her to his room.¡± ¡°Straight to his room.¡± Looking their guest in the eyes, Gryntha made a motion as if flicking up an imaginary hood. Lellia obliged, having wanted to hide her face from the start. They were admitted into the foyer, where everyone was taking the opportunity to laze about while circumstances still allowed for it. More than a dozen crowded around the bar, curious and speculative whispers cropping up amidst their drunken racket as the trio passed by. Lellia gritted her teeth, keeping her eyes forward and her body tensed until they reached Vethirn¡¯s room. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°Oi,¡± shouted Beldroth, pounding at the door, ¡°Supplies.¡± ¡°Just a moment.¡± The half-elf¡¯s voice was groggy. After a longer wait than anticipated, he dismissed Lossan and Beldroth, inviting Lellia to step in. His room was a regretful sight: a cavern of stone bricks with only a singed, patched-up bedroll, a few bags of his clothing and gear, and a shelf containing five books salvaged from a much larger selection. What gave her genuine, disheartened pause, however, was the absence of the various board games he¡¯d collected from every corner of the continent, from unique chess boards to niche cultural diversions. It appeared, too, that from what was a sizable hoard, only his favorite set of dice remained. The pieces were made from the gray clay of a Drondaris riverbed; although he was only half Dronvar, Lellia knew him to harbor a bittersweet fondness for the part of his heritage that denied him. ¡°Glad you¡¯ve made it,¡± he said, pulling her away from her thoughts. ¡°Yes, well, you left me with little choice. What¡¯s all this secrecy about? Have you not told anyone I would be coming?¡± ¡°Of course not. I would look like twice the fool if you didn¡¯t show up.¡± ¡°Understandable. And now that I have?¡± A frantic knock sounded at the door, shaking it on its hinges. ¡°Vethirn, what¡¯s going on? Who just walked in with Lossan and Beldroth?¡± Nosy as always, thought Lellia, tucking away a smirk. She stepped aside, allowing Vethirn the space to tend to his burden. The two bickered at the door for a time until she managed to talk her way past him. She recognized Lellia in an instant; the light revealed a glimpse of her face from the shadow of her hood. ¡°Are these the sort of allies you risked your life to seek out?¡± Avara asked. ¡°Truly, Vethirn? You say to trust you, but I¡¯ve never found you less worthy of it.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve given me no chance to prove otherwise.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve led a traitor straight into our new home.¡± ¡°Give me a chance, Avara,¡± said Vethirn, his posture stiffening. ¡°With none of your nitpicks, objections, or persuasions. And please don¡¯t push me to make that an order.¡± Lellia narrowed her eyes, regarding Avara and finding no fault in her concern. Her face hid none of her confusion, hurt, and exhaustion. ¡°I know it¡¯s me you don¡¯t trust, Avara,¡± Lellia chimed in, taking a slow step forward as she gestured to herself, ¡°So don¡¯t make it anyone else¡¯s burden, even if it was his order. I¡¯m right here to talk, if you need any reassurance.¡± ¡°I just¡­ Why?¡± Avara asked. ¡°Why did you leave us? We needed you.¡± ¡°A loaded question, and hardly a discussion for my first hour back. But I do suppose I owe an explanation. May need to dull my nerves a bit before I go and spill my heart out, but even then, I¡¯m not sure I can make any promises.¡± ¡°Well, you haven¡¯t changed a bit. At least I can give you that.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take whatever I can get.¡± A weight was lifted, leaving behind a certain sense of relief. Not forgiveness, but understanding ¨C which was a start. In spite of this, Avara¡¯s grimace strained her face as if she were trying to swallow something sharp. ¡°I hope he¡¯s right about you, and that you¡¯re not planning anything.¡± Avara closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath before taking her leave. On her way out, she muttered, ¡°Welcome back.¡± A sly smile crept across Lellia¡¯s face, growing by the second even amidst the pangs of uncertainty surging through her stomach. ¡°Please don¡¯t give me that look,¡± said Vethirn. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it far too often lately. Your pack must be heavy ¨C I¡¯ll show you to your room.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± Lellia sang, hands in her pockets and a swing in her step as she followed him out.