Did Kalim really think she was so stupid as to think she wouldn’t be allowed to go back to her town? Because that wasn’t at all what she was crying about. The thought of having to go back to Islahiise without her brother, and tell Myki and Gaeven that she’d given her brother to that crazy Katzheer, was what had her trembling. She didn’t even realize the Katzheer had set her down on the windowsill, didn’t even realize he’d left, taking her brother with him, until she heard the door open softly behind her. [b][color=39b54a]“Lyriia, child, why do you sit here?”[/color][/b] [b][color=7bcdc8][i]“M-Master Longarm!”[/i][/color][/b] she squeaked, jumping up into the air and fluttering, hovering for a second, because she was so startled. The man tilted his head back and looked at her, dark eyes twinkling with humor. [b][color=39b54a]“Come, child. Inside. We have much to discuss.”[/color][/b] The man turned and walked back into his residence, and the fairy girl followed. She paused for a moment in the doorway, looking around. Nothing had really changed. There were still bundles of herbs hung everywhere and laid out on all the window ledges. The treatment area, right in the front room, was the only neatly-organized room in the whole place; the rest had counters and tables piled with books, parchments, and various bits of clutter. The sight of a faded blue curtain gave her pause. Master Longarm had kept her belongings, thinking there would be a day when she’d return. [b][i][color=7bcdc8]“You were--”[/color][/i][/b] the girl’s voice came out a squeak. [b][i][color=7bcdc8]“You were expecting me? To come back?”[/color][/i][/b] [color=39b54a][b]“Kalim notified me. But I’ve known you’d be back someday.”[/b][/color] Longarm spoke quietly. He came out of the kitchen holding a tray of something, which he set down on the table. [color=39b54a][b]“You look hungry, child. Come, have some supper.”[/b][/color] Lii hurried over. She was actually hungry, having not eaten dinner before the Katzheer lieutenant had come in and turned her world on its head. She sat down on the edge of the table, looking at the acorn-sized bowl of stew and tiny square of bread (the perfect sized meal for a fairy) and took a breath, trying to regain her composure. She took a bite of soup and sighed happily. It was venison-and-mushroom stew, her favorite. Yes. This was good. This was some semblance of normalcy. Things would be okay.