“It was supposed to be a regular diplomatic mission, given our shared border.” Sparrow swirled a glass of red wine in their hand, as they stared into the liquid, contemplating. “It wasn’t.”

Theo wasn’t sure the idea of a ‘casual suit’ could be anything but oxymoron, but Sparrow had managed. They wore a very loose green velvet suit, shirt unbuttoned as far as possible while still being connected.

It had been a few days, like they said.

Three exactly.

In the meantime, Theo had hung around in the park, gone to the Martial Exchange with Jenny, and not come any closer to figuring anything out.

He had gotten a lot more competent at fighting, at least. He still wasn’t good enough to actually win in the skills section, but Bruce wasn’t able to throw him around like a sack of hay, so there was that at least.

And he was a lot more proficient with Rest, thanks to using it so much to recover between (and during) the bouts.

But this was the first time he’d been in the Guild in the past three days.

They’d gone into a private room on the second floor, and Sparrow had locked the door behind him.

While he was sure they wouldn’t do him any harm, after all the recent events, being stuck in any small enclosed space set some bells ringing.

That was why, even as he talked with Sparrow, he sat sideways in his chair, enough so that the door was always in his peripheral vision.

“You know about the incursions into The Woods, yes?” Sparrow asked, still swirling the wine in a perfectly controlled manner, the liquid moving in a gentle wave circling a vortex, reaching the same height every time.

“Yeah, I started patrolling and helping out with defences after the herbs started flourishing in the clearing.” Theo filled Sparrow in, taking a moment to realise just how much had happened in the past few weeks. Jenny, spies, fighting, in no particular order of importance.

“Did you see them?”

“I fought them.” Wine spilled over the rim, as Sparrow abruptly stopped moving the glass, frozen in their hand. With an absentminded whistle, the spray of burgundy droplets reversed their momentum mid-air, and returned to Sparrow’s glass.

They resumed the swirling, as even as before.

“Well, what were your impressions of them?” Sparrow recovered their composure.

Theo considered the question, wondering if his response should be appropriately diplomatic.

“They were not friendly.” Sparrow gave him a look that said they understood just how much of an understatement that truly was.

“According to Etol, they were diplomats like me.” Sparrow returned their gaze to the glass, and Theo started to appreciate the purposes of such a prop like this. What he did not appreciate, was the idea that the people who loosed an arrow at him were diplomats.

“We both know that’s bullshit.” Sparrow took their first sip of wine since they sat down. “But technically, the ‘Tools of God’ are indeed a diplomatic unit. It just so happens to be that they specialise in a rather forceful kind of diplomacy.” The sarcasm was thick enough to stick bricks together. Even if Theo had never heard of or fought these people, he would know exactly who they were after Sparrow’s description.

“That extended my trip far beyond what it was supposed to be, as I was now the representative who had to discuss why the ‘diplomats’ they sent to Union City never came back.” Sparrow rolled their eyes.

“They’re not happy. I don’t think they ever will be, or if they ever were. They’re definitely using this moment to their advantage, but I was able to hold off any commitments, so I’m back to discuss things and I’ll head back during the break before your second year at the College begins.”

Sparrow downed the rest of the wine in one smooth motion, and gently placed the now entirely-empty glass on the table. They interlaced their fingers.

“How have you been otherwise, my apprentice? I know that the tension around here is high, especially after they found spies at a ball or something similar.”

“Did anyone tell you the specifics of that ball?” Theo asked.

“No, why?”

“Well, I was there.” Sparrow’s casual, composed demeanour cracked. “I helped find the spies, and fought one of them too. That’s why they gave us this week off and got us sessions with therapists here at the guild.” Theo explained. “Didn’t anyone from the College tell you this?”

Sparrow moved their hand up to their face, and rubbed at their eyes. “All I’ve done for the past three days is eat, rest, and sleep. Truth be told, I’ve barely talked to anyone since I returned, and this is my first ‘meeting’ of any sort.” They admitted.

“I’m sure I’ll be briefed soon, but for now I would like to hear your side of things.” A gleam entered their eye, and Theo suddenly wanted to make sure his valuables were still with him (the fact that he didn’t have much that could be considered valuable was beside the point). “And if you have anything that you forgot to tell the Colleges, or that they’d be surprised to learn that I knew, by all means let me know that as well.”

---

When Theo was finished summarising the ball, the mischief had left Sparrow’s eyes, and all that was left was a cold, simmering fury.

“And once more, you are certain that these spies were from Etol?” Sparrow asked, but it was clear to both of them that this was not a question.

Theo thought back to the eyes that had appeared in his nightmares, the ones that sometimes he felt on the back of his neck walking down alleys.

The eyes shared by the Etol archer and the spies.

“If there could be any other reason why they would have the same haunting eyes as some of the Etol ‘diplomats’, maybe. But I would bet on it."

Sparrow took a moment to process that, then nodded. They schooled their features, pasting on a tight smile as they shooed him out of the room.

“I’ll see you in class next week.”