Michellin

Wanderers

Kire made a face. “I was afraid you’d say something like that,” she said about the wards affecting her as well. “The larger the ritual or enchantment, the more elements could go wrong, right?”
Elva and Narda both groaned when Ruli stressed using her magic as a last resort. “Well, we tried telling her that last time,” Elva said, pointing at Kire’s arm. Kire frowned.

“It won’t happen again.” She was still frowning, thinking it over. “But how are we even going to place the wards around the Palace grounds? I doubt the Gemini would let us just—saunter in and lay down runes. That requires stealth and speed. I can go in and out fast, but my portals aren’t the most subtle. There’s Ruli and Ysaryn, hypothetically, but—” She cut herself off, frowning. Despite her objections, she was starting to see the benefit of it. Elva could see it as much.
“Would you need her blood for this, too?” the healer asked, concerned.
“And with regard to Kire’s point earlier,” Narda put in, interested now that they were talking about a kind of magic that would counteract others’, “Myka and the girls. They’re stealthy, light on their feet. If you tell them how to do it, they can go in and out, while our armies lay siege.”
“I suppose another hiccup would be that you’d need to know the exact layout of the center of the Capital to do it,” Daryll said. “Besides learning how to cast the magic, everyone involved would need to memorize where everything is.”

Wanderers

“Blood runes? With Kire’s blood?” Elva asked, brows raised. Narda, too, looked at Kire with a frown. Daryll was the only one who didn’t look surprised at this, though he did glance at Kire before shifting his focus back to Ruli.
“Nothing’s ever as simple with blood runes and magic,” Daryll pointed out. “And languages have their own kind of power. Also, it’s one thing to cast a protection ward and a ward to keep one person in place, but what I have in mind is quite another.”
“To be fair, the gate was very powerful, and combine that with the portal siphoning off it, you’re dealing with a lot of power to contain,” Kire interjected, “whatever you might have in mind, those wards were pretty effective.”

Daryll tapped the table, thinking it over. “It’s—a little crazy.” Kire narrowed her eyes at him for a moment but held her tongue. “How big a net can those wards cast? Theoretically, can you stretch them over a whole city block?”
Kire’s lips parted. “What?”
“Say, the size of a castle, the castle grounds, and any structure within it?”
“Are—are you asking if you can put a whole ward in the middle of the Capital? Around the Palace?”
“Here me out,” Daryll said; his expression already said he knew how crazy this was, and likely would get crazier, “a ward that counters whatever magic protection they’ve put in, or cancels out whatever enchantments they’d have put in place. Your portals seem strongest around the Red Tower: you don’t get dizzy when you’re there, plus there’s the Seer’s Chamber. It seems like the Tower itself is a conduit to dormant magic, like your Ring. Put up a ward, with the Red tower closing the circuit.”
“Oh you’re right, that sounds lesscrazy the first time you said it,” Kire grumbled, though she couldn’t help but think it over. “Tell me that’s crazy,” she said to Ruli.

Wanderers

“It did, huh? Good things, I hope. Or she was listing off the people who nag her constantly about her safety,” Daryll said as he piled food on his own plate. Kire shook her head, starting on her own dinner.
“How’re you feeling, Nard?” Kire finally asked. Narda shrugged a shoulder.
“Better. I can go back to camp tomorrow. With you, if you’re up to it. While I’m confident Ed and your other generals can handle the captured lords, I’m sure you’re itching to go back.”
Kire nodded. “If everything’s going smoothly, Jan should be coming back soon, too. And we could—”
“Kire,” Elva put in, amused, “weren’t you the one who said no war talk at the dinner table with Etta and Precy just the other day?”
Kire clamped her mouth shut. “Right. Sorry,” she said, turning to her younger cousins.
“Aw, we don’t mind though,” Etta put in, pouting. Precy likewise had a disappointed look.
“It’ll be terribly boring, Etta,” Narda said, smiling down at the girl, “we’ll be talking about numbers a lot, and which crusty old lord is the most annoying of the lot.”
“Nard,” Kire warned, though she was smirking at the description.

So the cousins skirted talk of the recent battle. Kire asked the girls what they had been up to while she was gone, which part of the Northern towns Daryll had taken them to, which books Elva had lent them to read. Elva told them about her day; after tending to Kire and Narda, she had left the manor briefly to visit the nearby villages, a regular habit of hers as both their Lady and healer.
“I’ve been badgering Kire to let me visit this other world,” Daryll put in later, “so imagine my disappointment when I find out she took Narda, and that Ed’s been there this whole time.” Narda let out an amused snort.
“First of all, Narda wasn’t meant to come along then,” Kire put in, pointing at the giantess with a fork. “And Ed was stranded. Doesn’t count.”
“Sure. I still want to meet—Envy, right? And you, actually,” he said, turning back to Ruli. “Especially after what happened at the gate.”
“You have been throwing yourself back at your research ever since that incident,” Elva said. Daryll shrugged a shoulder.
“I never really stopped. Just—slowed down.”
Dinner was over a while later, and, to the girls’ disappointment, Kire had asked to talk to the adults without them. “I know you two are going to find someone to badger into telling you tomorrow, anyway,” Kire whispered to them with a wink after she and the others said their good-nights. “It’s Daryll, isn’t it? You know he’s a terrible liar.” The two giggled at that, not denying it. “Now get your rest, you two.”
“Bye, Ruli,” Etta said, much less formal now. Precy grinned and waved at him, too. Immediately after turning their backs on the adults the two girls started whispering rapidly in Taakalon, casting looks behind them now and then before they disappeared upstairs.

Kire sighed, watching them go, before turning back to the others. “When did they get so big,” she sighed. “Right. So. Narda, what time do you prefer going back tomorrow?”
“Early,” she stressed; Kire wrinkled her nose at that, but nodded, understanding the necessity.
“Once Jan returns, and we’ve met up with Ed, we can convene the war council for the retaking of the Capital,” Kire said. “We’re ready.”
“What will you do with the captured lords, Kay?” Elva asked, elbows on the table, fingers laced together.
“We’ll decide with the council. We have both the patriarchs and their immediate heirs, while their next-in-line for command haven’t proven themselves yet as leaders. Big chance they would be more pliable, with their sires as our hostages.”
“Mm. A year ago you wanted them all beheaded,” Narda mused.
“I know. I still want to,” Kire muttered, leaning back on her chair, looking down at her right arm as she flexed her fingers on the arm rest. “Traitorous bastards.” She exhaled noisily, then looked at Ruli. “I’ll bring you back tomorrow. Depending on how the war council goes, I will be back to get Ysaryn. She’ll have her new swords then.”

Daryll cleared his throat. “I want to be there. The council.”
The women looked at him. “Really?” Elva said, a little dubious. “Are you sure? You’ve never wanted to be involved in this sort of thing before.”
“Look. They used traitors and magic to unseat you from the Capital, cost us dearly, cost us Earnest, nearly had the girls taken hostage. I want to be there when you decide how you’ll pay them back,” he muttered, frowning at the table. “And—I want to run a few ideas by you.”
“Ideas—for the siege?” Kire said, surprise evident on her face.
Daryll nodded. “Which is partly why I wanted to talk to you,” he said, turning to Ruli. “Those wards worked so well, enough to contest Gemini blood magic. They have that on their side, and likely would have prepared for an attempt to retake the throne. We’re more than a match for their military might now, especially after the victory today, but you have to admit, it was their magic that had driven us away from the Capital in the first place.”

Wanderers

Kire snorted at his remark, though he was hardly wrong. She took a seat adjacent the head of the table; protocol would have dictated the place would be ceded to her, but after a couple of months of living here they had largely been loose with the rules, at least when dining amongst family. She was about to ask Narda how she was getting on when Etta came in, grinning. "I had the bread. It's tasty with the beef!" she declared, sweeping in to sit next to Precy.
Kire grinned. "Won't you spoil your appetite though?"
"Nah," Precy said with a giggle. "She's kinda like you, Kay."
"Hey!" Etta pouted for a moment, before huffing. "Okay. Maybe. But I didn't eat a lot-lot. Just a bit to taste it! Do you bake cakes, too?" she asked, turning to Ruli.
Pres grinned. "He's from another world, Et! Is cake the first thing you ask about?"
Her remark made Kire chuckle. "Yes, he does--oh. Wait." She frowned, realizing she was remembering something else. The visions. "Sorry. Got confused for a moment there."

The two girls looked curiously at her, then glanced at each other. Kire wondered what they were thinking, bracing for a question before she heard the lady of the manor enter. "I see my patients have actually obeyed my orders to rest," Elva said, grinning, "which I find surprising but nevertheless comforting. Look at that, I still have some authority left as your healer."
Narda grinned back. "There was promise of food, you see." She winked at Etta and Precy beside her, the girls giggling at that.
Elva shook her head, then turned to Kire. "I was going to check on you, but decided to let you be and see how the Ring was healing you."
"It's managing. Slow, but I feel it working," Kire replied.

"Glad to see you haven't found a way to actually break the thing," came a male voice behind her. As Elva took her seat, Daryll came in, his brown hair loose and falling to his shoulders. While none of them wore anything too lavish, some elegance and quality could still be seen in their clothes. Daryll's attire looked completely ordinary. "You're lucky you still have an arm. Or the rest of you."
"Hello to you, too, Daryll. You going to yell at me, too?"
Daryll rolled his eyes. "I would, but that never stopped you before." He gave a nod to Narda, then turned his attention to Ruli. "Rulitus, I presume?" He took his place beside Kire. "Tell me, is she as impossibly stubborn in your world as she is here in Amria?"
The girls snickered, and Kire pouted at them. "Not you too," she said.
"You kinda deserve it," Etta said, chin up.

Wanderers

Feeling a little foolish now for trying to hide her arm, she withdrew it, setting it on the table gingerly. Kire tried not to let her imagination get ahead of her when Ruli said he would’ve come to her twice a week. When he made the comment about Ysaryn, she cringed, nodding. “Yeeah. I know. Guess I better prepare to get that matching scar.” She grinned. “I’ve been thinking of giving her one, anyway. I’m just deciding on the make of it. She might like a scimitar, with steel that has this damask pattern from forging. Really pretty, bloody difficult to replicate. I’m glad the smiths here up North can rival the ones from the Capital.”

She paused, then tilted her head. “So, speaking of Ysaryn, I know my Elvish is still rough, but that new name you gave your city sounded like you’re not happy with it. I assume there’s a good reason, or an interesting one, at least?”

She tore a big chunk and pushed the rest to Ruli, silently insisting he eat more. She sank into thoughtful silence as she listened to Ruli’s explanation, now and then flexing the fingers on her right hand. She was about to ask if he felt like going downstairs with her to see if dinner was ready when she heard footsteps approaching. Too light-footed to be Elva or Narda, or any of the attendants, and the playful knock told Kire who it was. “Come in, Etta,” Kire called. The door opened slightly, and a girl that looked about twelve years old in human terms peeked in, her golden curls framing her face. The Wyvern resemblance was in her features.

“Hullo, Kay!—oh, sorry,” she said, blushing when she saw Kire had company. Kire waved her in, standing up. “Cousin Elva said you were back and resting. She also said you must be really hungry by now. There’s dinner.” She glanced at Ruli and offered a polite curtsy. “Hullo. Are you Kay’s friend? Elva said we were having guests over today.”
“Lady Etta,” Kire said, smiling, “yes he is. This is Ruli. He and his friends would help me on my important missions whenever I go to another world.”
“Oh. Yeah, Daryll mentioned that.” She looked up, curious, at Ruli, then back at Kire, gasping when she saw the hand. “Oh! You’re hurt! What happened?”
“It’s okay, I’m doing much better, don’t worry,” Kire touched her cousin’s cheek. “It looks worse than it feels now,” she said, trying to assure her. Etta pouted, frowning up at her, then sighed, nodding.
“If you say so. Cousin Elva says you need a lot of rest, though. You’re gonna, right?”
“I have. I promise.”

“Good! You better,” Etta said firmly, her hands on her waist, before she glanced at the bread left on the table. “What’s that? I saw the cook eating something like that.”
“Flatbread. Ruli made it. He’s a good cook,” Kire put in, and grinned when she saw Etta’s eyes grow wide, looking back at him.
“Do you bake?” Etta asked, and Kire chuckled, tugging playfully at her curls.
“How about we’ll answer your questions over dinner? Would you tell them we’ll be right down, please?”
“Hey!” Etta giggled, pushing her hand away. “Okay, fine. See you then. Nice to meet you, Ruli!” She skipped to the door, then, suddenly remembering her manners, turned back to Ruli and curtsied again, before hurrying out, no doubt to hunt down her cousin Precy and tell her what had just happened.
Kire grinned, picking up the plate. “If she’s here, my other young cousin should be close by. Come on.”

“Hello, you two,” Narda called, already seated at the dining hall. There was more of the pumpkin soup they had earlier, along with mutton and beef, and more roasted vegetables. Beside her was another young girl around Etta’s age, with brown hair tied in a neat ponytail. “I was just telling Precy here that we have a friend of yours from another world staying in the manor for today. She’s quite interested.”
“Who wouldn’t?” Precy said, before getting up from her seat and curtsying at Ruli as well. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Precy.”
“Where’s Etta? And your brother?” Kire asked, amused.
“Etta ran straight to the kitchen,” Pres replied, sitting back down beside Narda, “and my brother’s gonna be down in a bit. He and Elva were talking about you,” she added, grinning mischievously at her older cousin.
“Uh-oh. Looks like I’m due for another lecture,” Kire said, rolling her eyes.

Wanderers

Kire felt that fluttering again when he said he wasn’t upset by her breaching her promises. Stop it. Still eating, she somehow missed him glancing at her bed, and when she looked back up at him, her mouth stuffed, she frowned. “Hey,” she said after gulping down the piece she had just eaten, “I wasn’t even thinking—of course not,” she said, going red again, now suddenly more self-conscious about how scarred it looked, withdrawing her right arm and partly hiding it under the table. “I’m not a total animal, I do have a little bit of self-control. I think.” She heard how defensive she sounded and admittedly found it rather silly. Kire chuckled a bit. “You have no idea how embarrassed I feel right now.”

Wanderers

Kire sighed. “No,” she said; while Ruli toyed with the bread, she was still eating. “No, I haven’t. But,” she sighed again, stuffing a larger piece of bread into her mouth, taking her time with it. “But, to be clear, I’m not expecting anything. And I have two or three centuries left to get over it, anyway,” she joked, though hearing it out loud only made it sound rather sad. “I know you don’t understand it. Would you rather I stayed away?”

Wanderers

Oh, you’ve done it now, Kay. Kire looked up at him too, eyes wide. Great. Add Envy to the list of people who will have a bone to pick with you, then. “I…uh…well…” She stammered, trying to find a way to explain that wouldn’t reflect badly on him. “Don’t be too upset at him. He does have a point. And he didn’t do the whole ‘I forbid you’ kind of speech, not really. Honest. He just said that—that I had better be sure about how I feel about you before picking at that thread and disrupting your life. Something like that.”

Wanderers

Kire smirked. “Yeah. Gods know I tried,” she said with an apologetic grin at him. “Is this you helping me eat my feelings away then?” she said, though her tone made it clear she was joking. She listened to him talk about the food and it just proved the point; she found it oddly charming. “I do like bread a lot,” she said, chuckling, “precisely because of that. Goes with everything. Nice and simple. Comforting.” She looked him over. “How are you feeling? You’re moving better, at least.” She had a bit more of the bread, a little assuaged when he reassured her he didn’t think too poorly of what she felt for him. “Again, don’t tell Envy this, but he did…have a talk with me, six months ago. About being careful. About this,” she said, gesturing vaguely. She wasn’t sure if she should ask him about what it was that Envy had felt in him. “I assume he didn’t tell you?”

Wanderers

Kire woke with a start, mumbling in Taakalon and throwing a curse here and there. The headache had abated somewhat, but it took her a couple of moments to realize who was on the other side of the door and why it suddenly smelled like freshly-made flatbread. “I’d eat it either way, but do come in,” Kire said, getting up from the bed, taking the plate from him and sitting down properly on a chair, warm plate on her lap. She couldn’t help the small smile when she looked at the bread, and she gingerly tore a piece from it, chewing on it. “I was wondering if you could replicate it,” she said. “Do you want to split it?”

She set the plate on the table in case he did want some. After a thoughtful silence, she said, “Well. I did tell you it was a stupid thought.” She chewed on some more flatbread, glad that it offered some distraction. “Thank you for this, though.” She watched his expression, wondering what he'd say, preparing herself for him rejecting her for her confession.