Alton brushed the dirt off of Bibi and rubbed water into her fur. She’ll be able to keep cool as it evaporated. He then let her rest in her box while he did one final check to make sure she was well taken care of. It was only when he was about to leave that he caught a glimpse of Oyster.

The gelding was acting unusual. Oyster kept to the back corner of his box and didn’t acknowledge Alton as he knocked on the gate. “Hey there... You hungry?” The horse twitched for a moment and put his head down. That’s when Alton noticed the scars on the horse’s body. A moment of panic was felt for Sybil’s safety, leading him to shuffle back and forth between rushing over to see if she was alright or making sure Oyster was comfortable.

There were oats nearby, but maybe Oyster would want some vegetables. Alton decided to go to the kitchens to see what they had available. Someone would’ve rushed to stop him or sent word if something happened with Sybil. He wanted to see if he could get Oyster to relax a little before he went to find her. The kitchens gave him some carrots and Alton made his way back to the stables.

“A word, please!” Veximarl was running towards him as fast as he could. “I need to have a word!”

“Is Sybil alright?” Alton’s worries were suddenly doubled.

“She is but I would like to have a word with you before you try to see her. There are some items we need to discuss first. It will be difficult for her to explain, so I will be attempting to explain the problem as best as I can beforehand.”

Alton gestured to the stables. “Walk with me.” They headed there together, and Alton coaxed Oyster into eating from his hand while he listened to Veximarl’s story.

He felt terrible. Neither of them had known that the mission was going to be with Duxton. Then again, Duxton had oversight on all of the missions. It was possible that he had been planning on switching with Goldheel this entire time.

“There is nothing we can do for Sybil?”

“Ah…” Veximarl folded his arms. “The blood iron is interwoven with her nervous system. Even a skilled necromancer would have difficulty removing it. Did you have time to search for Tria?”

“She was hiding in the siren temple,” replied Alton. “There wasn’t anything but blood iron left. Felix wasn’t able to get a response out of her. I don’t know, he said he can’t do much about it since he isn’t as strong in that form.”

Veximarl let out a sigh. “How unfortunate. She would have been our best chance...” He then shook his head. “Lady Till has decided that Sybil will not be going on any future missions. They’ve assigned Horsetalon and Flaytongue to hunt down her pursuers. Irving and Mila have been sent south to act as Prince Duxton’s guards while Mister Alder is overseeing the barrack’s defenses.”

“At least they’re taking this seriously,” muttered Alton. “There’s nothing we can do about that mark on Sybil? Someone could just move her around like a puppet at any time?”

“She said that she felt a great deal of pain, which might be an indicator of them trying to take control,” replied Veximarl. “Sybil believes that her mist abilities may have… Scrambled their control somehow. However, Lady Blu believes it was because the mark was still fresh. That control may only strengthen with time.”

“I hate waiting,” whispered Alton. “... It doesn’t matter how cautious we are if all they need to do is ask us to walk away.”

“The situation is far from ideal,” agreed Veximarl. “We also told Vincent everything.” He began to fret as Alton scowled at him. “... If there is a traitor among us-”

“There is no traitor among the first years,” interrupted Alton. “There's dozens of workers at the barracks, as well as knights, and the second years. We have no way to prove that Duxton isn’t involved. He, as well as a dozen others here, have the connections to get it done.”

“You didn’t see the anger in his eyes, Alton,” replied Veximarl. “It was the type of rage that a man cannot fake. He didn’t put that mark on Sybil.”

“Duxton’s heart is nothing but rage,” spat back Alton. He then shook his head to calm himself. His anger was stressing out Oyster. “Where is Sybil?”

“The library. Lady Till has her researching… Something convoluted. It’s simply busy work to make it seem like Sybil is being productive.”

Alton patted Veximarl’s shoulder. “... Thanks,” he said, though he hardly meant it.

In the library, Sybil was researching the roles women played within the royal court. As much as she hated this type of studying, at least it was something that had become familiar. She didn’t have to talk to anyone or listen to anyone… It was just her and a book. Books were comfortable. People couldn’t be trusted.

Though it would’ve been nicer if she has been given a less sexist topic to study. She doubted that Till would care if she turned in a complete report or not. There was to much stress dancing about her head. Maybe she could get away with playing with Foggy instead.

“Hey.”

Alton gripped onto her shoulder, which scared the core out of Sybil. She nearly fell out of her chair, and Alton tightened his grip to keep her from falling. She stared at him for a moment, then flung her arms about him. Her head was buried against his chest but she didn’t say anything.

“Vex told me everything,” he whispered quietly. Glancing at the book, he frowned. “Let’s get out of here.” She shook her head. “Studying is going to make your head explode. Let’s find something fun to do instead.”

Prying her off of him, he took her to the mess hall. Alton insisted that she sit next to him by the piano. He began to play a gentle tune. Sybil sat there in silence. She was staring at his hands while he played.

“I thought you liked it when I played,” he said with a grin.

“I do… It’s awkward when I have to sit next to you while you play,” she muttered.

Alton’s hands froze for a moment. He switched melodies. Lydia was fond of humming to herself at times, and he had chosen one of those tunes. To his surprise, Sybil began to hum along. The faint sound was like honey on his tongue.

“I met Lydia a few times before,” said Alton. “I guess we never really talked about it… You and I, I mean not I with her,” he quickly muttered. “I’m sorry that I stole her from you.”

“You didn’t steal anything,” replied Sybil. “It’s not your fault that you were able to draw out her rapier from Volo Refuge.” She then let out a sigh. “I know you said you heard a voice telling you to protect me, but I don’t know how much of that to believe.

Is blood iron our souls? If it is, what are the consequences of using it in our weapons… So much about what we know of blood iron forging was lost when it became illegal to harvest it from sentient beings. We’re only skirting around those laws now by volunteering for the process for our own use.

But what happens to us after we die? Did Lydia actually speak to you? Am I going to be stuck haunting my daggers for all of time?” Sybil clutched onto the back of her neck. “I’m scared… I’m frightened of so much these days. I left the core to become stronger, but I’ve only damned myself in the process.”

Alton stared at her. “... Just… Just take a moment to shut it all out of your mind. Don’t worry about what others are doing or death or anything that’s stressful. All that matters is music.”

“Music doesn’t solve anything,” replied Sybil.

“Music solves everything. I could perform a piece that’s over five hundred years old, and you’d be able to understand that composer with such intimate detail. That’s the power of music. It allows people to communicate in a manner that words are simply too weak to convey.”

He started to play an older piece that had been written centuries ago. A composer had fallen ill, and she wished to write down the life she had lived with her husband, whom she had lost at sea. It was full of twisting melodies that danced between jubilation and tearful despair.

Sybil watched his face as he played. He looked so tranquil. Even if it sounded like his hands were crying out in pain, his face was as calm as a sunny day. She reached out and put her hand on his wrist. Suddenly, the tune had stopped. Alton opened his eyes and looked at her.

“Did you not like it?”

“No, it’s not that,” she said with a shake of her head. “Would you mind teaching me an outerland song?”

“Did you have anything in mind?” He asked with a grin.

Sybil nodded. “I want to be able to sing Miss Iofea’s favorite song for her the next time I’m in Carapace.”

“The Ebbing Ibis from the Coral Prince,” he replied. “... You know she bawls everytime she hears it.”

“But she seems so happy afterward,” replied Sybil.

Alton laughed to herself. “Yeah, and she’ll probably be overjoyed if both of us performed it for her,” he muttered. “Alright. I’ll teach you. Just hope that Lady Till doesn’t catch you singing it though. She’ll trap you in singing lessons until you graduate.”

Sybil held out her hand. “Deal.”

It appeared that the days that were to follow were to be happy ones. Both Alton and Sybil went to Lady Till to discuss their upcoming schedules. They were asked to work as her assistants. Her health had taken a turn for the worse, which is why neither rejected the request.

Chickadee was still working in the forge. He didn’t mind hard work, but he was surprised at the amount of it that had shown up. Long hours were spent in the forge, and meals were brought to him out of fear that he would forget to eat.

Veximarl was finding himself spending more and more time in the infirmary. He was running out of excuses. Help for coming up with lesson plans, or simply wishing to talk about acolyte studies. In reality, he was pinching medicine to help ease his headaches.

This afternoon was no different than the other ones. Blu was humming to herself, digging through boxes as she did so. Veximarl was lying in one of the infirmary beds. He had claimed that he wasn’t feeling well due to spending all of last night awake.

Blu pulled out a stack of fabrics and set it on a nearby bed. “I keep telling you that your lesson plans are fine. I swear, I think you’re only coming in here to cool off. Not that I mind the company, but at least be honest about it.”

Veximarl only understood half of what she was saying. The thumping between his ears was driving him mad. “I appreciate your advice, regardless.” He draped his arm over his eyes.

“I like this one.” Hayden lifted up a light blue linen blanket.

“A wonderful color for a winter babe, but I’m afraid that material is a bit light... Though wool is also a bit scratchy.” Blu tossed her hands in the air. “We still have two months before we need to worry about it.”

Bryn folded his arms. “Are you certain that she is pregnant? You already stated that you did not give her an examination.”

“I know the glow of budding life when I see it, Mister Saxifrage,” replied Blu. “She will come to me when she realizes it for herself. Until that happens, I have plenty of time to plan for the newest addition to Braytons Barracks.”

Bryn was doing what he could to help out in the clinic. He had been studying to be a doctor within Grand Temple, but opted to apply to Braytons due to how interesting it seemed. Hayden was curious about Veximarl. She needed to learn about the outdoors, and he was set to be their survival teacher. So far, she hadn’t been that impressed.

Her constant companion, Millie, was oddly absent. Millie couldn’t stand Bryn. He didn’t seem to understand what boundaries were. Even now, when he had the infirmary to distract him, he was lingering around Hayden.

“Hayden, be a dear and tell me something. What do you think is the best way to ask Gideon out on a date? I was thinking of starting off with a pleasant day of animal dissection. There is such romance to be found in the way the heart works.”

Both Blu and Hayden stared at Bryn blankly. Even Veximarl lifted up his arm long enough to glance Bryn’s way. Bryn glanced between them all, confused by their silence. He thought Gideon had an attractive mind. How wonderful it would be if he could get the chance to investigate it further.

“Alright, Bryn? Sweety?” Blu patted his shoulder. “Please, no.”

“What if-”

“No.”

“Could I ask if-”

“No.” Blu shook her head. “No, dear. Start off with a nice, sane gift and work your way up from there.”

Bryn slowly nodded. “Like a talisman for good luck. A rabbit's foot charm with owl feathers... Yes, that could work. Though he might want one that would give him ease of mind while studying, like fox teeth.” He nodded again, quicker this time. “I’ve heard shrew venom injections are good for stressed muscles. Bee stinger acupuncture seems wonderfully intimate... I should do more research on the subject.”

Blu’s lips narrowed to a thin line as she swallowed a plethora of words. She then shook her head. “Let’s take a step back from those ideas,” she finally replied. “Why not start off with saying hello? So many wonderful conversations start out that way.”

“Seems like a wasted opportunity,” muttered Bryn. “I should be upfront and offer some sort of sacrifice…” Blu stared at him judgmentally. “Ah, yes. A suitable courtship sacrifice like… Flowers?”

“That’s a wiser choice?” Asked Blu suspiciously.

“My goodness,” muttered Veximarl. He wondered if he ever came off that awkward when he first arrived here. A quick glance from Blu and a shake of her head informed him that she was overwhelmed, which made him feel slightly better.

He was used to dealing with such folk from his days in the swamp. There were several witch doctors that had served as his mentors. Grulick would introduce him, and they, in turn, taught him about herbs and talismans. It was surprising to hear someone from the Violet Region had similar interests.

There wasn’t anything wrong with Bryn being curious. Teaching him properly would give him a healthy outlet for his curiosities and Veximarl found himself intrigued by the idea of taking on an apprentice. There were still chances to be strange, even out here.

Veximarl sat up. “I have no schedule for this afternoon. My squad often makes time to explore the surrounding area. This would be a good opportunity to gather the first year squires for their first official outing.”

Hayden wished she could do that instead. “Paladin Buttonweed is set to return today. Millie was going to ask him for some combat training.”

“Sir Grimhawk is the weapons instructor,” replied Veximarl.

Hayden gave him a tired look. She knew that. “Sir Grimhawk has asked us to focus on the basics. Millie is disappointed that other squires,” namely, Rowan and Elm, “are working on advanced techniques.”

They were focused on proper running technique. Hayden kept stressing that her legs didn’t allow her to do proper running, but neither Hugo or Grimhawk were hearing a word of it. Millie simply wanted to do some hard fighting rather than practice the basics. Though Hayden wasn’t hopeful that Buttonweed would help them, it was better than running.

Buttonweed had been sent out to investigate the sightings of arrows of true faith. Such weapons were illegal, and their deadliness made their investigation a high priority. The paladin was to gather what evidence he could from Duxton, make a report to Till, then make his way north, where he would present his findings to Duke Sickleson.

There was little doubt that he had time to deal with Millie and Hayden’s request to train. Veximarl let out a sigh at the thought. A single incident was enough to turn the barracks upside down. Even Rebecca had been recalled from the north so that she could participate in a meeting at the barracks about it.

Everything had changed since the appearance of that arrow and Veximarl prayed that it wasn’t a sign of worse events to come.