Telassi's office was segmented into three parts: A lavish roomy space, with a long table made from polished gray stone and redwood. The floor was covered with rugs. Dark green, with gold and white and blue threats woven in between, forming intricate and ancient patterns. The far wall was opened onto the flat planes, and when the sky darkened, Nahandrain's roofs glittered in the starlight. To one wall, a large bookcase stood. It was filled with books and scrolls: Maps and reports, ancient and more recent history. One could easily tell the older and newer books apart: Some had the titles written on the edge, others on the spine.

That section of the room was closed off by a folding screen made from paper.

The second one held a fireplace with a mantle made from blue soapstone bricks. Two carved horse heads interlinked with each other decorated the mantel. They were placed in the center, and sometimes, the fire got caught in just the right way to give the illusion of manes, moving in the wind. In front of the fireplace was a round, thick, soft carpet. Its edges set in silver and blue, the carpet itself was anthracite gray.

On that carpet stood a rocking chair. The dark wood was polished but worn with age. The hard chair back was softened with a colorful blanket, a cushion was placed on the seating area. A chair for a person who might have trouble standing up otherwise. And that person sat in that chair. White hair, big, soft curls, that fell to the ears, a small face, wrinkled so much it looked knobbly, age spots all over her loose hanging skin. Her eyes had sunken back into her skull, and most of their color, over time. Pale blue lakes full of gray looked at him full of disapproval.

He inclined his head toward her; being used to it. Hilde had never liked him; she had learned to tolerate him over their shared love for Telassi but he was sure, that she still saw him as a nuisance. The feeling was returned in kind.

Like the other one, this part of the room could be separated through a screen. It also was the only part of the room with a back wall: The fireplace called for it. Today, like most of the time, the screen between Telassi's work area and Hilde's spot in the room was open.

Telassi themselves sat on a large and heavy desk, decorated with horse patterns. On the desk were several marked areas that helped them stay organized: Letters were placed on a bolted down piece of rough fabric, a stone tablet for the space they wrote and read on, a wooden frame for finished answers, slots for seal, paper knife and sealing wax.

For them, staying organized was the only way of functioning properly. Renor did not envy them.

To describe Telassi as beautiful or pretty would not be true. They had a slim face, a strong edge around the chin and mouth, a forehead with deeply worn wrinkles. Dark shadows under their eyes, a sign of all the hours without rest. Their skin had a red undertone and was cool brown above that. In the right light, their skin seemed almost purple, like that of the daylily's edges. They appeared to be in their mid fifties, even though Renor knew they were much older.

They wore the simple brown leather armor, that served as the Vandrainor's uniform, and a dark tunic underneath. Telassi had always been lean, no curves to their body, only hard edges. Strong. Their body had always radiated strength. The way they held themselves, head high, shoulders back, back straight. What had started as defiance had turned into authority over decades, reassurance over centuries. Their skin was thinly scarred; fading signs of old battles. Unlike others, they had never treated them to the point where scars vanished. Scars were memories, too. Their veined hands were spread on the table, the index- and middle finger of the left hand a little crooked. Memories, as well. Their face was stern, their eyes closed.

Lexon stood beside Telassi, his diamond black fur a stark contrast to their soft brown tones.

"Andrush Vandrainor", he said, and bowed; one food back, one hand extended, the other one twisted behind his back, he felt impossibly foolish. But protocol was protocol. And following it was important, and it helped him, too. For a while, the two of them had really struggled to find a balance between formal meetings, and these kinds of meetings when he was here as their friend and sort of adviser. So following protocol to the least helped them.

"Renor, Ilya", they said, unable to suppress the honest smile. He returned it in kind. A warm rush floating through him. Nothing felt like home the way that smile did. With a flash of guilt, he remembered what he had told Ilandi not long ago. He never had let them go; not one day. Even when they hadn't spoken in decades, they held each other close.

"Sit."

He did, as he was told, and took the seat in front of their desk. Closer to them, he could smell their weariness, their worriers. That was nothing new. For the last fifty years, they had smelled like this, and for a second he wondered why he had picked up on it so consciously today. Then he understood: The scent was far stronger than usual — it was enhanced by a deeper dreading of some kind.

His ears flattened a bit. "What can we do for you?", he said, trying to sound easy.

They sighed deeply. "I need you to do me a favor", they said.

He heard Hilde making a disapproving noise, and for a second, he shared a flash of insight in the old hag's mind. The Andrush Vandrainor did not ask for favors. Renor — just as all Vandrainor — were oath-bound to obey a direct command given by the Andrush Vandrainor, as long as it did not violate their tenets. Telassi however liked to circumvent that by asking for favors, asking people if they could do something, and suggestions. Renor understood and appreciated that but some of the more traditional people could not handle that.

"Well, whatever we can do for the Andrush Vandrainor", he said. It was hard to banish a smirk from these words.

Slowly, Telassi nodded. Renor could tell they were sorting through their thoughts. "Alright, then.” They paused. “I need you in the White Forest."

"Pardon me?"

Their brow furrowed, and their jaw tightened. "I need you in the forest, Renor."

"But why? Kirdain can do it. It's a minor matter." He scrambled cold claws in his shoulders, fear breathing down his neck.

Telassi leaned forward, putting their elbows on the desk. "I'm not talking about Kirdain, Renor. This isn't about competence."

His tail had flattened itself against the floor. "Then what is it about?"

"By the Regent, Renor!" Hilde's voice echoed louder than it was in his ears. "Stop arguing and listen to them!"

He hissed quietly, his head ducked and his hands grasped the desk's edges. He hated people yelling behind him.

"Hilde, please", Telassi said. Their voice was calm, the edge suppressed.

Renor felt Ilya's snout touching his ear reassuringly. He touched his flank in silent thanks.

The old woman did not answer, and Renor did not turn to look at her expression. Her face was probably as tight as a fist right now. And he had enough to do to manage his own discomfort.

Old as Renor was, he hadn't been often to the forest. He wasn't born there; he hailed from a city in the elven-occupied parts of the Gold Peaks, such as most of his forebears did. His family, as far as he knew, had left the White Forest early on, just as they had left slavery early. Whenever he had been in the forest, the elves there treated him as if he had a highly contagious disease. Worse even; like a traitor. They called him "slave" to his face and whispered far worse things behind his back.

He hated going there.

Not even all the fuss, the dances and banquets, the gifts, the respect and love the ongai showered him with could make up for it.

The sound of Telassi's heavy chair scraping over the floor made him come back from his vantage point of misery. He looked up. Their mouth was only a thin line in their face right now, and Lexon's nostrils twitched. "Walk with us", they said.

Renor got up and followed them outside, where rain greeted them. The elevation on which the Stables were build was covered in grass all year despite being so far up north. But today, it was muddy. Renor regretted not wearing shoes when he stepped outside and mud spurted out from between his toes.

Ilya loved the weather. Renor felt the sudden urge to launch himself in the mud and wriggle around — Ilya's urge, of course.

Telassi stood next to Lexon, one hand on his shoulder. The black silver dapple stallion did not seem to mind the dirt but none of Ilya's excitement was visible on him. It probably was a sign of stress. Ilya was stressed.

They walked a few paces away from the office, in silence. Telassi was startled, he could tell by the way they moved; one hand never leaving Lexon's body, head a bit lower than usual. Being thrown off their routine was never easy for them.

He felt sorry. Sorry for inconveniencing them but their reliance on that old hag frightened him from time to time. Hilde sure was an honorable member of the Order but she was also prone to cruelty toward anybody who wasn't human.

"I'm sorry", Telassi said after a while. They had paused on a spot where Nahandrain came just insight. Lexon must have told them.

"Don't be", Renor said.

They shook their head. "I hurt you", they said. "I asked you to teach again, and you did. I asked you to take him on, and you did. And yet… I make you feel like I doubt your ability, right?"

He paused. Yes. They did. "Yes, you do", he answered truthfully.

"See. I never wanted to do that. I don't need you there because Kirdain's incompetent. He isn't. He passed, so he's as competent as everybody else."

He smiled. That might not be entirely true but true enough.

"I need you there because Kirdain's not you. He doesn't have your abilities."

Renor frowned. He had taught Kirdain everything he knew. That was the whole idea of assigning masters and having a standardized curriculum. Kirdain was as good as he was in almost everything. Except… He stared at Telassi.

"What … exactly do you mean?", he asked slowly, carefully.

"I need you in the forest", Telassi said, "because you need to wake up that Ongai-witch."

Renor's mouth opened but he was short on words.

"I need you to do that, Renor. I know it's difficult and dangerous but you are the only one who can."

Oh, and how he could. But he still couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn't use that power. He shouldn't even have that power.

"But… if they catch me …", he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Lexon's voice intermingled, silent, deep, pained. 'We are not sure, we can protect you, then', he said.

'So, for whatever you think might be going on… You are ready to sacrifice us?', Renor answered.

Telassi straightened. Their face tight, they put one hand on Renor's forearm. "See to it, that we don't have to", they said.