Yngvarr’s PoV - Eyrarháls

My wards wrap around us the moment we enter the side gate; it’s home, yet it feels wrong. Little things out-of-place, the stone ornaments pushed about, and the garden untended show a casual disregard. Stepping within the house, the discomfort deepens when I see the scratches cut into the ornate kitchen table—a wedding gift from Alfarr’s uncle. Everything in the kitchen sits under a layer of dust despite the sound of voices from further in the house.

It takes more than a single Mending to set the damage right, but finally, the spells reseal the wood.

“Well, you told him to make himself at home,” Alfarr says.

“Yes, but as a guest it’s expected he treat our property with due respect,” I grumble. The dust makes it clear the damage had been from prior to Himelchon’s affliction. The insult of the neglect combined with what I saw in the yard stirs the anger that has been growing through the days of discussion with Alfarr.

Moving to find where the voices are coming from, I reach out and anger tightens my skin at the sheer number of wardstones someone has issued to our house. The state of the sitting room turns the ashes that have sat in my gut into a bonfire. The proper furniture is gone, rather a set of low reverie chairs, sit in a circle, with no comforts for human visitors. From the walls the song Amdirlain unleashed rings, stirring my blood. Touching the wards, I make adjustments I hadn’t thought I’d ever need.

As I look over the changes made to the sitting room, Royal Guard Captain Teidon Fenmenor glares at me from within the map room’s doorway.

“Ýridhrendaer Edlen, where have you been? Did her majesty not order your help eight days ago?”

His contemptuous tone doesn’t help me keep my calm and the sound from the walls pulses in my blood. “Your Queen did indeed, and initially I was going to do so, but then I discussed the matter with my husband. As for your question, you are mistaken on two matters.”

“She is your Queen as well, Ýridhrendaer Edlen,” sneers Teidon, and I wonder how I’d missed the contempt he’d possessed earlier. A House of the same tier as my former standing, now that I’m stripped of rank, his persistent use of that name serves only to mock me in our home.

“This is our house, and I will address an intruder how I wish. None of you has our permission to be here, nor has any even attempted to contact us for permission to use our home.” I state and finish up my adjustments of the wards.

As soon as the last changes cascade into place, the connection of the wardstones fades from within them. With the wards fully returned to our control, I continue. “You will leave and do whatever planning you need to do elsewhere.”

“Your Queen ordered you-”

“Your Queen! Mine no longer; I said you are wrong on two matters. I renounce all ties to the Andúnë Kingdom. I am not Ýridhrendaer Edlen, I claim fully the names given by my husband’s kin: Yngvarr Helvitiøx. For your likely ignorance, the second means inferno axe and is my husband’s deed name. You will all now leave before I have the wards eject you.”

“You’re making a grave mistake,” hisses Teidon, but his contempt is an empty force compared to the anger I feel burning in my veins.

“In the words of a friend, you can fuck off,” I snap and trigger the spatial constructs in the wards. He disappears, and the wards in the room beyond confirm that it’s now empty of the others. I’ll still have to toss their possessions out the door myself, but it was a nice dramatic gesture.

Taking another look about the chamber Alfarr pushes a reverie stool with a toe. “This changes our plans?”

“Yes, it does,” I quickly agree. “They can search for the truth behind Himelchon’s fate on their own. We’ve levelling to do. Our priority is each other, and I want you around a long time to come.”

“And Farhad says the Norse are hot-headed,” chides Alfarr good-naturedly.

“Obviously, I’ve learnt well from my husband and his kin,” I snort and almost shake my head at a sudden thought. “I guess I learnt the power of choice from Amdirlain, after all. I never considered that choice would make me feel so light-hearted.”

“You seem to enjoy using ‘my husband’ today, though you could have used your own deed name,” observes Alfarr, his hand rubbing across my shoulders.

“No, I wanted something to confirm we’re together.”

My reply earns a warm smile from Alfarr before he draws me in and melts me with breath-stealing kisses. When he eventually releases me, I can only blink at him slowly while I try to get my brain to work again.

Liranë’s PoV - Limbo - Monastery of Will’s Hand

After twenty days enfolding her cot they’d pulled the privacy screen back from the bed, but Sarith looks less lifelike awake than floating in the skin’s radiant fluids. Sitting in simple pants and shirt her appearance reminds me of Amdirlain’s repeated insistence on asking how a child should be treated.

“Who did I hurt?”

The words are barely a whisper, and she doesn’t even look up when I set down on the cot across from her.

“Know you entered the link enraged. What did you think would happen?”

My question tightens her pained expression, but she doesn’t raise her eyes to meet my gaze.

“Know I was angry and upset, but I didn’t feel enraged,” whispers Sarith.

“Did your childhood training not warn you of the dangers from powerful emotions in mental links? Why were you angry?”

The digging questions finally get her to look up. “How are you not angry after she treated you so dishonourably?”

“Know that the only person who can sully someone’s honour is themselves. Or do you believe another’s actions can lessen your own self-worth?” I ask and Sarith stops with her mouth open as if to ask another question before she simply closes it again. “Know that I’ve seen no dishonour in Novice Amdirlain’s conduct, and while different, she has treated me with respect. That is who you are talking about, is it not? Know personally I appreciate that she took actions to avoid killing or crippling me in the challenge—even as she surrendered advantages.”

The self-doubt in Sarith’s gaze carries a dangerous weight that has me re-evaluating Amdirlain’s viewpoint, but still, bad news is best given quickly. “Know I’m here to discuss the tribunal ruling, which was supported by Master Jarithä, that your enrolment be revoked.”

“Know I thought as much when Healer Arith gave me these to wear,” Sarith says after a long silence, tugging at the edge of her shirt. “When am I being sent home?”

“Know you have two options: to leave the monastery and seek a place that will accept you or stay and perform whatever job a Master assigns you. Know you will not become a Master in the order, nor even re-join the lessons.”

Sarith licks her lips for a time struggling to keep her breathing from quickening before she speaks again. “Has the revoking of my enrolment been communicated?”

“Know that it has, along with the judgement of the tribunal according to the law. Know also that your parents have been in touch with your sister—their reaction was not forgiving of your endangering so many others.”

“So I have no place to go home to?”

I don’t answer the hypothetical question and eventually she continues. “What course did my sister decide on?”

The expected question has me nodding. “Know that she is progressing the three classes.”

“How long will it take her to graduate?” asks Sarith with some sign of genuine curiosity peeking through her bleak demeanour.

“Know it will be eight years before we consider her a full member of the order,” I offer, even knowing it’s the optimistic timeline.

“When do I start work?”

“You will not ask what job you’ll be assigned?”

“Know I assume it will be to tend the crops or duties I’ve seen the lay members take care of about the place,” replies Sarith.

“Is that so? Know that you have until the morning chimes to change your mind. Know if you still wish to stay, you could report to the head gardener after breakfast, otherwise, a group leaves for Zerth’Ad’Lun in the morning.”

“Where I can hope to find employment before I starve without backing? Know I’ll stay here where I can work and perhaps Gemiya will wish to see me before she graduates,” Sarith states, stretching out on the bed.

“You will not go back and see if you can convince your parents to accept you?”

“Know our parents will not accept any reason for injuring someone in that situation—I should have left the courtyard. Know I remember the link—the peace of it mocking my frustration—then a blue mist blocked my awareness, and the link became an inferno of pain. Will you please tell me to whom I should make amends?”

“Know that Gemiya mentioned it was her preference to come here. What would you have done instead?” I question, thinking about the speculations Amdirlain had offered about the source of her anger.

“Did I maim or kill someone? Is that why no one will tell me what happened to the others?”

The verbal parry of asking her own questions, does that mean it’s something she wishes to avoid discussing?

“Know that your inability to follow instructions burnt the emotions from a Novice except that rage you brought with you into the link. Know that it required Healers tending her for days, and even Master Healer Elliyna assisting, to enable her recovery.”

“But she’s recovered? Who got hurt? Can I at least say sorry before I leave?”

The sudden intent to leave has me leaning back to consider her fully from the hunched posture and the distress lining her face. “You would leave now? What changed your mind?”

“How can I stay after harming a Novice so badly?”

“Why did you wish to stay?”

“Know I hoped Gemiya would at least talk to me on rest days,” admits Sarith, her hesitation expecting a denial and hoping for me to provide some reassurance.

Instead, I toss a mirror on the bed beside her and fight off a smile at the baffled look I get.

“You wanted to say sorry to the Novice you hurt, didn’t you? Isn’t it proper to look them in the eye?”

Even as her glance shot back to the mirror, Sarith’s brows furrow and it takes a moment for understanding to bloom. The grim expression cracking with relief as the tears flow has me shift to sit beside her and rest a hand on her back. Only when her tears finally calm do I let her go, her answers and reaction having taken away my intention to make her sweat.

“Know while you could report to the gardener you have a choice of two jobs, both of low rank since most Masters can take care of themselves. Know one of those positions is as attendant to Master Healer Elliyna-”

“When do I start?”

Her interruption has me blinking and I wonder if I’d offered it first intentionally to avoid the burden. “Know you’d start tomorrow as you need some rest outside the psi-skin. Don’t you want to hear of the other job?”

“You said Master Healer Elliyna helped me, shouldn’t I work to repay her?”

Sarith’s words rushed out and when they halt, I raise a hand to intercede against further objections.

“Know that I promised I would give you both options, so that you had a choice. Know the other position is to be my assistant, but the only compensation I can offer is to teach you as time permits.”

“But I will never earn the rank of Master?”

The moment I nod she echoes the motion, understanding it’s only a stopgap to allow her to learn to protect herself and come of age.

“Can I think about it?” whispers Sarith after a long breathless pause, absently fiddling with the mirror on the bed.

“Know that is a wise request and you certainly have at least until breakfast to decide.”

I only make it a few steps when Sarith clears her throat and I halt for her response.

“Know that I would have gladly accepted your offer previously, Master Liranë.”

The nervous expression I find when I look back isn’t what I’d expected to see from the brash girl, even after her earlier tears.

“Know that I’m glad you’ll give the matter proper consideration.”

* * *

I restrain a sigh when I find her kneeling at the end of her cot in the morning. Her posture and calmness show she’s conducting the morning meditations.

“Have you decided?” I ask, glad I’d planned for a room near my own to make it easier to monitor her.

“Know that I’m deeply grateful for your offer, Master Liranë, and I’d give anything to be worthy of it. Know that in saying this, I hope my accepting the position of Master Healer Elliyna's attendant won’t offend.”

The surprise could have killed me in battle, but I keep my mouth shut.

Nodding, I motion her to rise. “Know I’ll take you there directly.”

Amdirlain’s PoV - Limbo - Monastery of Will’s Hand

Before Amdirlain even raised her hand, Elliyna’s door opened in a rush, and a suddenly flustered Sarith startled back.

“Know you have my apologies, Novice-”

“Without the rank Sarith,” interjected Elliyna, and Sarith stiffened at the scolding tone.

Sarith’s skin darkened from a simple blush of embarrassment instead of the anger she’d so often shown. “Know you have my apologies Amdirlain, I had planned to be on my way before your arrival.”

“I’m glad to see you up and about. Though also surprised you’ve not made time to see Gemiya yet,” replied Amdirlain, and resisted the urge to hug away the hurt look her words brought forth.

“Know that I’m not allowed in any of the dormitories without invitation,” murmured Sarith.

“I know everyone already told Gemiya they’re fine for you to visit, so consider yourself invited. She was hoping to hear from you but worried you didn’t want to talk to her when she didn’t feel any mental contact. Before dinner is likely the best time to catch her, but she’s just in a theory lesson at present,” said Amdirlain, and stepped aside.

Even with the doorway clear, Sarith stayed frozen in place, her expression wide-eyed as she rapidly blinked away tears. “Know I wasn’t aware of her new schedule, my thanks.”

The words had been so choked they were barely a whisper, and Sarith gave her a quick bow before she scurried away.

When the door shut behind her, Elliyna fixed her with a stern look. “Gemiya didn’t ask the others, did she?”

Amdirlain sprawled on a long couch and returned the look with a smile. “I beat her to it, and I told everyone to credit Gemiya if Sarith enquired.”

“Why did you lie?”

Wiggling to find a comfortable spot on the padded couch, Amdirlain considered cheating and restructuring it but continued to adjust her position.

“I could tell Gemiya wanted to ask, but it could have been weeks or never. Githzerai—you’re all so stubborn. If it went on too long, the rift would have had time to fester. Her learning of my involvement in anything trying to benefit her will just blow up, I’m sure.”

“Perhaps our mutual stubbornness is why you get on with so many of us?”

“Yeah, I know, pot meet kettle,” retorted Amdirlain, and stopped when Elliyna gave her a blank look. “Sorry, abbreviation of a longer saying from where I grew up—cultural thing.”

“Have you made progress in ‘jackhammering the asphalt’?”

“I wish the progress was that fast. Getting rid of the obsidian intentionally is more working with a tiny fossicking rock pick given the scope,” grumbled Amdirlain, and gave Elliyna a smile. “How is your attendant working out?”

The flat look was such an instant and honest response that Amdirlain couldn’t contain her laughter. When she paused for a moment to look up at Elliyna, her still offended expression and raised eyebrows simply set Amdirlain off again.

“Know that I’m glad you find this amusing,” said Elliyna once Amdirlain had calmed to the point of snickers.

“What’s wrong?”

“Know that she fusses over me between sessions. Know with the amount of tea she tries to give me, if I’d drunk it all, I’d have been forever going to the toilet,” grumbled Elliyna.

“Old bladders, I’m told, are a pain,” offered Amdirlain, and at the still flat look continued glibly. “It’s her first day on the job.”

“Know that I only agreed to this after you convinced Liranë to also offer her a position,” stated Elliyna.

“You both expected her to take Liranë’s offer, didn’t you? Well, if she’s fussing, obviously she has too much free time on her hands. I understand the monastery doesn’t train Healers.”

At the jump in the topic, Elliyna’s flat look turned suspicious. “What are you suggesting?”

“She’s got issues with anger but they often stem from something, don’t they? She’s not allowed to get training from the order now. Maybe if you untangle her, and train her, she can help others; in the meantime, all that study would give her something to do. Plus, she shows my Monk Class since she has Ki, so with some training she could help not just mentally but also physically with a Ki healing technique.”

“Who would train her in the Ki technique?”

“I’ll just have to figure out how to get her an instructor from among those Master Jarithä is bringing here.”

“Why don’t you offer to teach her?” asked Elliyna.

“Yeah, because I’m sure she wouldn’t view that as an insult,” drawled Amdirlain. “She’s got three classes: Monk, Psion, and Wizard, she’s got a Ki pool and the Jade Court Mana Affinity. I really think it was the yang aspect of the Ki that hurt her so much. Judging her on previous precedents of purely Psi injuries was really unfair.”

“Perhaps as unfair as judging yourself guilty on the words and deeds of others?”

Amdirlain winced and her expression twisted in distaste before she gave a sharp nod. “Yeah.”

“How goes reforming the spire to a platform?”

Jerking upright, Amdirlain fixed Elliyna with a glare. “You only asked me to try that yesterday.”

“Did you start?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

Grinding her teeth Amdirlain leant back against the coach’s armrest again. “I’m worried about what sort of wound it’s sitting in, so I want to get rid of all the tar first.”

“Know that you told me the nearest tar is now far from the spire,” noted Elliyna. “Has that changed?”

“No, but it’s still there,” protested Amdirlain.

“Know that smoothing out the spire is just picking at the bandage—change it back to a platform.” insisted Elliyna. “Know that it’s important for two reasons: greater active control over your Mind Palace and learning if you have an infected wound beneath it.”

Ebusuku’s PoV - Duskstone

Jaixar’s gaze hasn’t stopped tracing the runes lining the waiting room’s far wall since we sat down. Tidied up from her usual working garb even her black braided hair—that matches my own—looks to be freshly washed. A complex nest of protections most of which actually seem more focused on containing sound and energy from the next room.

“For someone after lots of Adamantine it took a while to get this meeting.”

My words draw Jaixar’s attention my way, and she looks me over again, her gaze lingering on the ornaments I braided into this form’s beard. “She wasn’t in Duskstone this past week. If you aren’t worried about impressing her, why do you look like a Dwarf today?”

“I’m not wearing my armour, and I figured I’d go incognito. Not working?”

“Yeah, you blend right in. Just another epic combat monster wandering the passages that wants no one to blink an eye,” murmured Jaixar.

“What?”

“Amdirlain’s words not mine, you can take it up with her,” uttered Jaixar defensively and shifted nervously on her seat.

“When did she call me a combat monster?”

“Before I met you. Are you saying she wasn’t right? I know little about Celestial types, but you don’t move about even close to anyone normal,” observes Jaixar, and her gaze darts back to the wall.

“That really depends on your normal.”

Jaixar simply nods and continues her examination. “Right, I’ll take that as a yes.”

The same young Dwarf that had ushered us into the waiting room hauls the workshop doors open, and waves us through into the cavernous chamber beyond. The figure in the middle is eight Dwarves in height, wrapped in scaffolding, and more mould than free-standing statue. Upper parts of its casting have been removed and sit in stacks off to one side with the exposed sections gleaming a metallic silver, smoother than an Adamantine Dragon’s hide.

Among the crowd of workers, the only white-bearded Dwarf stood at a bench near the entrance tapping her fingers impatiently atop it. Solid work boots and battered brown hide garb made Jaixar’s normal attire look pristine, and now the journeyman looks completely overdressed for the occasion. Yet Pimnal’s impatience isn’t directed at us, rather her hard, blue-eyed gaze stayed fixed on the documents laid out on the bench before her.

“Ebusuku is it? Odd name for a Dwarf, what world are you from?” asked Pimnal, not even looking up from the paperwork.

“I’m in the service of Lady Amdirlain, just blending in with the locals you could say.”

“My secretary said you’ve got some Adamantine to sell?”

“If you’re still in the market,” I say, and nod to the figure. “That Golem looks like you’ve finished the pouring already,”

“I still need enough to craft the weapons for it. The stuff is scarce, and I just got back from outdoing bidders in Stoneheart. Don’t know why there were stupid Humans among them, the stuff’s wasted on their trinkets, but they pushed the price up before I smacked them into place,” grumbled Pimnal. “Tried to appeal to me on religious grounds or some such nonsense. Idiots should just go off and mine it for themselves, not be interfering with Dwarven supplies.”

“I’ll keep you in mind if we get more to sell. Though perhaps we could deal with an assistant if you’re away from your workshop next time,” I reply, her gruff manner amusing. “I’ve got some crates of Mithril and Adamantine in storage bags with me.”

“Over to the side area then, you’ll be able to open the bags there,” Pimnal says.

She tosses a thumb toward a metallic and glass enclosure, covered in more runes than her workshop walls, and one look is enough to have me shaking my head. “I’d prefer to put them down in your waiting area, I’ve no intention of stepping into something with that mass of containment runes over it.”

“Suit yourself, it’s to contain the interference of dimensional energies,” states Pimnal, and stomps towards the door. “Plus all the accidents over the centuries with stuff falling into visitors’ bags. I was told you wanted to trade for items more than coin.”

“Jaixar mentioned that your Senior Journeyman turn out items better than some Masters, and I’ve got quite a list of things I need.”

Pimnal pushes open the doors with a casual motion, that belies the effort her secretary needed to use.

“That’s fine. I’ll pay them their share of the objects if they’ve got things that match your requirements. Let’s see what you’ve got, and I’ll check your list.”