Different Path Taken

by fandom_filth

Summary:

What if Rayla was right, and killing Ezran couldn't have freed the assassins because they were bound to avenge a death that hadn't yet happened? Runaan wavers in his convictions and gathers the other assassins to her cause. He will have to learn to let Rayla forge her own path, as she will learn to step out of the shadows cast by all of her parents. These human princes show a level of honor and respect to the elves that the assassins are unused to, and both sides must question everything they were taught.

Note: major character death is in reference to King Harrow, who is not actually dead, but everyone in the story will believe that he is and it's narrated as such, so it's getting the warning anyways. No one else is going to die I promise.

Notes:

Idk how fast this will update. I was inspired by my recent rewatch and had to start, and flaming-thing and lunanightriderofthecove on tumblr both requested it be posted early after finding the first chapter on tumblr. So here I am, cross posting the current hyperfixation in the hopes that it sticks.

This first chapter takes place at the moment Rayla confronts Runaan on the ramparts in Episode 3: Moonrise, and tracks his thought process as things change from there.

Chapter 1: Moonrise: How Things Changed

“How can we take vengeance for an act that never happened?  Ye have to call it off.” Rayla pressed.

His mind was already racing.  They couldn’t .  They were bound to take vengeance for a death, but if the original victim was not yet dead, their mission was impossible.  They would fail tonight, no matter what actions they took, because their task could not be completed. 

“Rayla, you know it doesn’t work that way.  We bound ourselves.  There’s only one way to . . .” Runaan broke off.  There was only one way for them to release themselves.  If the victim they fought for called off the mission, then -

“Runaan, please,” Rayla begged. “There has to be another way.  This is a miracle, a chance for peace!”

Peace? “The humans struck down the King of the Dragons,” Runaan snapped back. “And stole his only egg.  What chance is this for peace?”

“Because we want to give it back,” The small boy holding the egg replied before Rayla could, gray eyes wide and earnest. “If we bring the egg back to its mother, maybe she won’t be angry anymore!  We can have peace again.”

He was just young and naive enough to believe it, too. “No.  Give me the egg.  We will take it back to Xadia ourselves.”

“Nope.  Sorry.  The gesture that matters is if it comes from us.” The older boy argued, though as Runaan bared his fangs he saw his gloved hands shaking. “We want to do this.  To make up for what our people have done to the dragons.”

This was rapidly going sideways.  Rayla couldn’t stop him, but she could slow him down long enough for the boys to escape with the egg if he tried to take it by force.  Aside from that, if anything happened to the egg and the Dragon Queen discovered they had not recovered it, her wrath would come down on Moonshadow Forest as well as Katolis.  It had to make it back to Xadia.  Worse, it had to at least leave the castle with these human children.

They would have to leave the king alive to make it work.  If they killed only him the news would reach Xadia before they could return, and the consequences for the assassins’ families could be severe.  No sending the shadowhawk, then.  If the mission simply was postponed, the dragons would at least wait for the next full moon before they reacted, assuming something had delayed their journey.

“Runaan, listen,” Rayla pleaded again.

“Wait here.” He said shortly. “I will gather the others.  This . . . changes things.” He glanced over the children, one frightened but too naive to understand what danger he was in, one terrified, and then- 

He turned away from Rayla’s face and added the rest over his shoulder. “A vote must be taken.  Stay here.  Stay hidden.” He leaped back up onto the crenelations and ran for Andromeda’s pathway.

 

 Runaan sent Andromeda to fetch the others and fell back to Rayla’s position.  He could not risk her trust in him failing, and her bolting again.  Luckily, she and the human children, and the precious dragon egg they carried, all remained where he had left them.  For once.

The other assassins weren’t far behind, and when he spotted the shades begin to approach, he showed himself again, dropping onto the rampart path with her.  He stood across from her as before, but faced the approach of the other assassins.  He did not draw his weapons.  They would know not to attack.

“What is this?” Callisto was the first to speak, shimmering back from Moonshadow form on a crenelation just ahead of the human children.

“Is that what it looks like?” Andromeda asked in awe, her eyes already fixed on the dragon egg as she landed on Rayla’s other side.

Skor landed in a crouch and his eyes fixed on Rayla, his teeth bared, but he didn’t move towards her.  Ram landed beside him and ignored her entirely. “You can’t just disrupt the entire plan once it’s already begun, Runaan.  It’s a path to failure.”

“No plan survives direct contact with the enemy.” Runaan replied dryly. “And circumstances have changed.  Dramatically.” He gestured at the egg. “Rayla, tell them what you told me.”

“Me?” Rayla almost yelped, but she gathered herself when he raised an eyebrow at her, and turned to the other assassins. “The egg of the dragon prince wasn’t destroyed.  It was stolen.  These human princes found it and now they wish tae return it in hopes of makin’ amends for what was done, an’ foundin’ a new era of peace.  We can’t take vengeance for an act that never happened, we have tae help them get the egg home to its mother!”

To its mother.

Runaan’s lips thinned, thinking of the same thing he imagined Rayla was, and the betrayal of the girl’s own mother, which had led to all this. “She is right,” He said firmly before any of the others could reply. “No matter what actions we take tonight, we will fail.  We are bound to take a life for a life.  If the death we avenge has not yet happened, the life we take is not an exchange.  We will not be unbound.”

The other assassins exchanged glances, and Skor finally shimmered back from Moonshadow form to press his lips into a thin line.  Ram jumped down from the crenelations. “So we kill the king, and then take the egg back to Xadia.” He said, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“We would rather you didn’t,” The older prince said, and Callisto’s mouth twitched up at the corner.

Runaan shook his head. “No.  If we kill the king and word reaches Xadia that we completed only half our mission, and abandoned the rest, you know the price our families will pay.” He met Ram’s gaze until the boy dropped it, eyes widening with realization. “Likewise, if word reaches the dragon queen that we did not recover the egg when we had the chance, consequences could be far worse.”

“So why not just take the egg back ourselves?” Callisto asked practically. “Why do we need the extra weight?  They’re children.  They won’t be able to travel as fast as we can.  They’ll slow the whole mission down.”

“Perhaps.  But they believe they can make amends for what was done to the Dragon King, and Rayla believes in their cause.” Runaan said, and looked at each of them in turn. “And she may not be able to stop us.  But she can hold us here long enough for them to escape with the egg - or at least raise the alarm to ensure that we fail at all of it.”

“She wouldn’t.” Andromeda said, but her brows were furrowed.

Rayla flicked open her butterfly blades, her face hardening. “Care tae gamble on that?”

“Having the human children with us would provide an advantage movin’ back through Katolis.” Callisto said without quite looking at anyone.

“What possible advantage could there be in that?” Ram demanded.

Skor looked through his hair at Callisto and bared his fangs. “We don’t.  Take.  Hostages.”

Callisto shook their head. “No.  We don’t.  But they don’t know that.” He looked up at Runaan. “We have willin’ volunteers to make confrontation we have on this side of the border easier.”

Runaan nodded. “We do not judge.  We do not decide right and wrong.  We take life only when it is necessary to prevent greater evil.  The king in that tower has committed a terrible crime, but if we kill him now, when this egg lives, and fail to bring it home, we bring down the wrath of both human kingdoms and the dragons upon our home.  I believe our best course of action is to assist the human princes in their gesture of peace, for now.  If we lose too much time . . . we may reevaluate.”

“We’ve got a week.” Skor said flatly.

“He has a point,” Andromeda said with a frown. “We didn’t even make the trip here in a week with just the six of us.  How will we make it with those two slowing us down?”

Callisto tilted their head and jumped down to the ramparts. “Then it may be useful to us to bring them, even if the peace doesn’t work.” He said, and shrugged when they all looked at him. “To carry the egg.” He added with a meaningful flex of his wrist, where the assassin’s binding was already fitted where it had been loose. 

“I believe our best course of action is to leave.” Runaan said bluntly. “We cannot risk losing time or resources in an attack.  We take the egg and the children and bring them back to Xadia as quickly as possible, to minimize the damage this disaster may cause, for dragons, humans, and Moonshadow elves alike.”

“You’ve always led us well.” Callisto said simply, meeting his gaze, and then looked over at Rayla. “And what Rayla’s found here changes things.  We took an oath.  That oath is impossible.  Our only path to freedom for our people at home is to make certain this egg gets back to the Storm Spire.” Callisto took a long, deliberate breath, and met Runaan’s gaze again, and presented their bound hand as they had when they took the oath. “My breath for freedom.  I am with you, Runaan, and Rayla.”

Runaan nodded, something in his core eased at having one of his most trusted warriors at his side.  Callisto had served as his second on this mission and would continue to do so.  He turned his gaze to the next noise, a rustle from Andromeda.

She was looking at Rayla, and then the egg, and shook her head in disbelief. “I pledged my eyes for truth,” She said simply. “This is the truth.  We have to make sure the world knows it.  I am with you, Runaan, Rayla, Callisto.”

Skor finally jumped down from the crenelations, the last of the company to do so.  He looked at Rayla, then at the egg, and finally to Callisto.  His face did something complicated there before he looked back to Runaan. “I swore my strength for honor.  These boys will honor the dragons with this, or we all die trying.  I doubt your motivations, Runaan.  I doubt their convictions.  But if this works?” He shook his head. “Then perhaps some humans have honor in their hearts after all, and we can work with that outcome.  I am with ye.”

Runaan nodded slowly.  He had expected nothing less.  Skor was one of the oldest assassins in the Silvergrove aside from himself, and his trust was hard-won, his loyalty even harder.  He was proud to have attained it, enough to make this work - and fortunate.  If Skor had fought back, he was strong enough to have proved a real problem.

He turned his gaze to the last member of their group.  Ram stood slightly apart from the rest of them, and the young assassin’s gaze moved openly towards the king’s tower before lowering to them. “I pledged my blood for justice .” Ram growled. “There is no justice to that king being left alive after what happened to the King of Dragons.”

“A life for a life?  Is that justice?” Rayla protested, and took a few more steps towards him.

“If you kill him, it just becomes a cycle,” The older prince argued, more firmly than she did, and Runaan’s interest in the boy grew. “The humans strike back again, and then so do you, and it never ends!  We have to stop this, and it starts with getting this egg back to where it belongs.”

Ram bared his fangs at them and looked at Runaan with a challenge in his eyes.

Runaan shook his head. “It’s too risky to start that fight.  If we are to recover the egg, we must leave.  Quickly.  His justice can come later.  But Ram, life and death are a cycle - but life must always come first.”

Ram glanced toward the egg again when Runaan gestured at it, and his clenched fists slowly eased.  He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “My blood for justice.” He said slowly, but he nodded when he opened his eyes again. “I am with you.”

“My heart for Xadia.” Rayla agreed, and looked to Runaan hopefully. “So we’re doin’ this?  All of us, together?”

“Yes.” His heart ached seeing how eager she was to have them all on her side, as if this were a game she were excited to play.  There was a new depth in her eyes now, though.  She knew what she had risked for this. “We will need to slip out undetected.  Andromeda, Skor, Ram, retreat the way you came in.  Callisto, find us an exit the children can traverse.  You, Rayla and I will guard the egg and the princes.”

“Oh, we can just go down through the halls and leave through the courtyard.” The older prince said. “All the guards are pretty focused on the tower right now.  There’s no one down there.”

No one?  At all?  He’d encountered no guards on his entry path, either.  Runaan frowned. “Has anyone seen guards outside of the tower?” He asked suspiciously.

“No.” Callisto was the only one who replied verbally, but all the assassins shook their heads.

Alarm bells rang in the back of his mind.  What angle was this?  Was this a trap to begin with?  Why wouldn’t the humans be trying to block every entry point? “Rayla, when did you enter the castle?”

“Oh, uh, I dunno?” Rayla answered, clearly caught off-guard by the question. “An hour or so before sundown, I think?  Maybe a little longer.”

“There was still sunlight and you saw no guards ?”

“Yeah.  I thought that was a bit weird.”

Weird indeed. 

“I can, maybe clear this up.” The older prince - Runaan really needed to use his name - said. “The Crownguard are concentrating where they know you’ll hit the hardest.  They don’t think they can stop you from getting in, spreading out to cover the entrances will spread them too thin.  They’re just all blocking one location instead.”

It still didn’t feel right, and Runaan was inclined to distrust humans’ word on anything, but he had nothing else to go on. “Go.” He said shortly to the trio he had sent ahead. “But stay on high alert.  Do not engage.  Just leave.  Meet us at camp.”

They nodded, and split up.  Andromeda dropped back down into town, and Skor and Ram darted to other stretches of the wall.  Callisto looked to Runaan with a quirked brow. “We’ll likely not be able to slip through the halls unnoticed.  Especially not you.” They pointed out. 

“We’ll go down through the halls.  I’ll keep an eye on the humans.” Rayla volunteered. “We’ll meet ye in the courtyard below.”

Well, she struggled with orders, but she rarely failed at things she’d volunteered for.  Runaan nodded shortly. “We will meet you there.  Move quickly.” 

She nodded, and turned to usher the human children back inside.  Callisto gave him a look that Runaan firmly ignored as he turned to the castle walls again and aimed for the courtyard.  She would succeed in this.  While she had violated his trust, and his orders, she believed in this, and so he believed she would do it.  It had nothing to do with his soft heart, no matter what Skor or Callisto might think.

Fortunately, the other assassin remained silent as they followed on Runaan’s heels.  Whatever they thought of his agreement, they would not discuss it here.

Chapter 2: Escape From the Castle

Summary:

Callum still wants to stop and talk to his stepfather one more time.

Notes:

... because the author needs a reason to show Viren being shady for him to get suspicious later.

“Wait,” Prince Callum sidestepped Callisto’s herding motion and looked up at Runaan with determination. “I need to go talk to - I need to see my stepfather before we leave.”

Those alarm bells went off again.  Runaan narrowed his eyes at the boy. “Why would we let you do that?”

“Because the fight with Claudia earlier means they already know we didn’t leave by sundown.  If you guys disappear without doing anything and then we’re gone in the morning, everyone will assume you kidnapped us.”

Callisto grunted. “We’re countin’ on that, a bit.”

“ But we weren’t supposed to be here.  We were going to go on a trip to the Banther Lodge before you got here, so Ezran would be safe.” Callum pressed on. “So if I just go tell the king that we got a late start but we’re leaving now, it’s okay, they’ll think we made it out.  It’ll be at least a day before they come looking for us and anyone notices we’re actually missing.”

Runaan’s lip curled. “Why should we trust you not to betray us?”

“Callum wouldn’t do that.” Ezran frowned at him. 

“Why should we trust you not to just kill us as soon as we leave the castle?” Callum countered, glowering at him with his hands shaking. “Rayla already tried like a couple of hours ago.”

Reflexively Runaan glanced at the girl, who was scowling at Callum’s back.  She had disobeyed him to come and try to complete the mission all by herself.  He should have known. “We will be having words about that later,” He growled at her.

Callisto cleared their throat. “I hate to say it, Runaan, but . . . it might not be a bad idea.  If the boy can buy us an extra day, that’s precious time we could use tae put distance between us and this place.”

“I’ll stay to guide him to camp afterwards.  I’ll be careful, keep an eye on him, stay hidden.” Rayla volunteered.

Runaan frowned at both of them. “And if he betrays us?  No one of us could hold back all the guards of Katolis.”

Callisto shrugged. “If he doesn’t, we gain time.  If he does, what do we lose?  He won’t be able to tell them anythin’ they won’t guess on their own.  We’ll still have the other prince.”

“Rayla.” Runaan pointed out, feeling a tad brittle at the coldness in his friend’s eyes. “We lose Rayla .”

Callisto held his gaze without flinching. “Or she’s not stupid , because she’s your student and ward,” They pointed out bluntly. “And she stays hidden, and escapes to warn us ahead of time.  She’s always been good at information gathering, Runaan, you know that, and she’s volunteering.” They tilted their head and raised one inky black eyebrow at him. “Would ye hesitate if it was me?”

Runaan showed his teeth and huffed. “Would I hesitate to risk your life on the word of a human child?  Yes, Callisto, I would.”

“I can do this,” Rayla insisted. 

“It’s a risk, yes, but it’s a worthy one.” Callisto said, folding their arms. “It could buy us an extra day, and that’s precious time to travel, and we will need every second.  You more than most, Master of Blades.”

The reminder that his oaths sat further up his limbs than theirs, could easily kill him if they tightened too much, was unwelcome.  His life was of no consequence if giving it completed their mission.  But then, that was the very point, wasn’t it?  Neither was Rayla’s.

Runaan grit his teeth and glowered down at the boy. “Go.” He said shortly, and looked at Rayla. “Stay hidden.  Stay alive.  If you’re not back by sunrise, we leave without you.”

She nodded firmly. “I know.  I’ll be there.”

He hoped she would be, but he couldn’t afford to spare more words for her with Callisto’s sharp eyes boring into his shoulder.  He turned instead to the younger prince and the large dragon egg he carried. “Let’s go.”

The princes paused to exchange a hug before splitting up, and he and Callisto ushered the younger one towards the gates on high alert.  There were still no guards.  Even the citizens of the castle town were abed and no one was present to catch them slipping through the streets and over the bridge.  They made it to the woods without a single incident.

Runaan sent a private wish up to the moon that he hadn’t just sent his daughter into a trap.

 

They had been in the woods for almost an hour when Prince Ezran began to fall behind.  He had refused Callisto’s offer to carry the egg for him, wisely pointing out that they could just take it and leave him if he permitted that, and they had exchanged glances and let him keep it.  On the slim chance that this was right - the whole reason Skor had agreed to this plan was the potentiality for proving the children’s honor, and they would need working hands to carry the egg anyway by the end of the journey. 

“Slow down,” Prince Ezran fussed from their heels. “I have little legs!”

Both assassins paused for a moment to let him catch up and Callisto shot Runaan a look, quirking a brow at him. “I know I agreed, too, but this does sort of prove my point about them slowing us down.” They said quietly.

Runaan flicked his eyes over the boy and then quirked a brow back at his second. “When was the last time you took a rotation with the Mooncubs?”

Callisto blinked, clearly caught out, and cleared their throat, looking away. “I’m an assassin, and not also a parent.  It’s . . . been a while.”

“You should stop dodging it when we get home.  It will do you good.” Runaan replied as Prince Ezran managed to catch up, the boy panting a bit but bravely pushing on.  He crouched in front of the young human instead of turning to leave. “We will cover more ground if I carry you.” He said bluntly. “I understand you do not trust us with the egg alone, but we need to move faster than this.  Would you rather be held in front or on my shoulders?”

Prince Ezran blinked at him, mouth opening in surprise, but then nodded. “O-okay.  Um.  I like the shoulders better, but the egg is really heavy, and I don’t want to fall backwards.”

“You can hang onto the horns.  Most children do.” Runaan assured him, reminded harshly that children were children regardless of their origin.  The boy was so much like the cubs back home. 

“That won’t hurt?” Prince Ezran asked, curiously, even as he raised his arms to allow himself to be picked up.

Runaan scoffed, finding himself unwillingly amused as he picked the boy up and hoisted him to his shoulders. “No.  I can’t feel the tips.  Just be careful of the hair.” He swept it aside as he settled the child on his shoulders, habit making the movement easy.   Moon above, the egg truly was heavy - that or human children were heavier than he’d anticipated.  He was impressed the boy had made it this far. “Ready?”

He felt a faint tug at the base of his horns as the boy gripped them. “I’m ready.  Um, thank you.”

Runaan settled his hands on the boy’s ankles to strap him in further and set off towards camp again.  Callisto scoffed lightly as they resumed their journey. “Shame you’re not a father, Runaan.” They said. “You’d be good at it.”

Damn them.  What was it with them and Skor, always after him to claim Rayla even though her parents were very much alive?  Things were awkward.  And what business was it of his - yes, very well-meaning - friends anyways? “We’re not talking about that now.” He said flatly. “You know why that is.”

Callisto just hummed skeptically and let it go as Runaan picked up the pace to avoid the conversation.

 

They arrived at camp an hour later, near moonhigh.  Fortunately, Skor, Ram, and Andromeda were all present, and Callisto heard Runaan breathe a slow sigh of relief to see them all unscathed.  Privately they agreed with the sentiment.  The trio were visibly surprised to see the human child on Runaan’s shoulders and his hair swept to his front, a look usually reserved for his rotation with the Mooncubs, but Andromeda and Ram at least had the sense to quickly look away and choose not to comment.

Skor, in contrast, tilted his ears down skeptically and gave Runaan a pointed look.

Their leader scowled at him. “Don’t start,” He warned, adjusting his grip on the prince’s ankles.  When Skor just tilted his head and spread his hands, he added, “I can hear you thinking it.” And just as pointedly turned his back.

Callisto smirked to themself and exchanged an amused look with Skor when the older assassin rolled his eyes.  Neither of them actually commented.

“I’m going to put you down now, Prince Ezran.” Runaan warned before swinging the boy off his shoulders with a surprising amount of gentleness.  Callisto leaned on the tree beside Skor and watched them.

“Okay.  Thanks for the ride.” Prince Ezran allowed himself to be put down on the ground, and then shifted his weight back and forth a few times, taking a few steps in place. “I need to get my land legs back!” He laughed, and beamed up at Runaan.

A few hours ago they had intended to kill this child.  The dragon egg in his pack had saved his life.  Callisto wondered if he really understood the situation he was in now, isolated in the woods surrounded by people who had sworn an oath to take him.  He trusted them far too much.

“Get some rest.” Runaan told the child, and hopped up a tree to fetch his bedroll.  He didn’t bother erecting his tent, but he put the roll out on the ground for the boy. “You’ll need your strength for the journey when the others return.”

“Thank you.” The prince said politely, and curled up on the bedroll with his arms wrapped tightly around the egg, and his little glow toad pet fully awake by his head.  They would not be able to take the egg without the creature waking him.  Interesting.

Ram cleared his throat. “Speaking of, where’s the other one?”

“And where’s Rayla?” Andromeda added, frowning.

Runaan didn’t look up from the boy for a moment, and Callisto sighed internally and took pity on him. “The boy volunteered to buy us some time with the other humans.” They said. “The children were supposed to leave before night fell for another location to get them away from us.  He’s goin’ to let them know they left successfully, safely, and it will buy us an extra day before anyone grows suspicious of us.”

Ram and Andromeda exchanged a glance. “And if he betrays us?” Ram pointed out. 

“Rayla is there to guide him here if he doesn’t.  If he does, she’ll run, and we don’t lose anything.” Callisto shrugged. “We only need one of them, and this one is blood of the king.  The other prince is expendable.”

The small child in Runaan’s bedroll curled up tighter around the egg at the words, and Callisto suddenly doubted he was entirely asleep.  They would have to be more careful with their words around the child.  The assassins couldn’t afford to lose his trust, as naively given as it was.

Runaan seemed to notice too, from where he sat on a rock near the roll, and he gave Callisto a warning look. “We leave when they join us, or at sunrise.  Whichever happens first.”

Ram sighed. “So we’ve barely started and we’re already losing precious time.”

“We don’t abandon our own.” Runaan said flatly. “No matter what has happened before.  We’ve agreed she lives, and now that she fights for the same cause.  If we abandon her now, we are no better than ghosts.”

For all he was right, Callisto kept their face carefully smooth when they nodded agreement.  It wasn’t just Runaan’s honor that kept him waiting for Rayla and they all knew it.  It was also his love for her.

 

It was near sunrise before Rayla and the older prince stumbled into camp.  The speed of their rustling had Callisto on their feet with their glaive in hand in seconds, alongside the other assassins, and fortunately Rayla led the way into the clearing with her butterfly blades folded up.  The two were clearly in a rush, but while the human looked wide eyed and frightened, Rayla appeared mostly jittery but focused.

“You were successful?” Runaan guessed, unfolding his bowblade and returning the blades to their sheaths. 

The prince shook his head. “Lord Viren wouldn’t let me in to talk to - to talk to the king.” He said, frowning deeply.  He shook his hands in front of him anxiously. “I don’t understand why!  He even took - he stole my voice when I tried to yell through the door, and started to escort me out, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get away and get back to Rayla but he got distracted and just sent me to a guard.  I told them someone was waiting in the yard for me . . .”

“How?” Skor interrupted roughly, and Callisto glanced at him in surprise.  What did he mean, how? “With no voice.  How did you tell them?”

“Oh, most of the castle staff knows at least basic KSL - Katolian Sign Language,” the prince said, making an aborted gesture with his hands that looked like it was almost a sign. “My aunt Amaya is deaf so I grew up with it.  I guess Rayla was able to steal the thing Viren was using to hold my voice though, and she broke it, and I got my voice back before we left.  Thank you for that, by the way, again, because that was terrifying.” He said, aside, to Rayla.

Rayla cleared her throat awkwardly and nodded. “Yeah.  Sure.  It was some kinda creepy desiccated paw thingy.”

A paw?  Why would that help a dark mage take the boy’s voice?  Callisto’s skin crawled at the thought of it and they rolled their shoulders to escape the mental image.

“Time to wake up, child.” Runaan was saying, nudging the sleeping Prince Ezran. “Your brother and Rayla have returned.  We should move.  Everyone gather your packs.  The more ground we cover, the better.”

Callisto obeyed without a verbal reply, finding Skor’s packs stored directly next to theirs in the tree they’d left it in.  They handed his pack down to him before he could come get it, and he rewarded them with a perk of his ears and a faint softening around his eyes and mouth, but he didn’t speak either.  They landed back on the ground at his side, both shrugging their packs onto their backs, as Andromeda, Ram, and Rayla did the same and Runaan gathered his bedroll back up to follow suit.  

They all fell into a formation as they began to travel.  Ram and Andromeda led the way, scouting the path, and Rayla walked with the human boys near their flank.  She and Prince Callum remained close together, and Callisto followed near enough to hear them as Skor and Runaan brought up the rear.

“So, your name is Rayla, right?” Prince Callum said. “I think it’s Rayla, I really hope it’s Rayla-”

“It’s Rayla,” Rayla cut him off with a little scoff and an embarrassed tilt to her ears. “And you’re Callum, right?  Not Prince Ezran, Callum - Callen?  Caleb?”

“Callum,” the boy laughed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Callum, that’s Ezran.  So, what about the rest of you?” He seemed to direct the question towards the group at large, glancing from Rayla to Andromeda to Ram when their scouts passed closer to them.

Ram rolled his eyes and Andromeda coughed almost politely but neither answered, and Callisto muffled a chuckle when they heard Runaan’s exasperated sigh from behind them. 

“That’s Ram,” Rayla took over introductions for them. “He’s the newest assassin other than me, and I’ve been trainin’ with this group longer.  He used to work with Silerian.  We don’t like Silerian.”

“That one’s just you and Runaan,” Callisto felt the need to interrupt with a chuckle. “No one else has trouble with him.”

“He’s hardly an irritant.” Runaan said blandly from behind them, and they chuckled lightly as Rayla rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, that’s Andromeda.  She’s one of my oldest friends.  Behind us is Callisto, they’re the healer - an’ I should.  Probably let them look at my arm.” She giggled nervously as she looked back at them.

Callisto raised their brows and quickly joined her, looking over the black marks they’d just noticed on her arm. “A bite?” They guessed, puzzled by how dark and almost cauterized the wounds appeared to be.

“Yeah,” She agreed. “They were wolves, Callisto, Xadian wolves - made of smoke.  My swords passed right through them, but they were solid enough to bite me.”

Callisto frowned and leaned close to sniff the blackened teeth marks. “The good news is they smell like ash, so they were made of smoke, and if ya keep it clean, you shouldn’t get infected.  The bad news is that if you don’t clean it until there’s no black left, and soon, it will likely leave a raised scar from the ash.”

“I’ll clean it really good when we get to the water,” Rayla promised. “But we can’t waste time goin’ aside for that if it’s just a scar.”

“Suit yourself.” Callisto shrugged. “You’ll live.” They glanced over their shoulder at Runaan and Skor, and paused for a moment to resume their position a bit between the pair and the children in the center. 

“Back in the back is Skor and Runaan.  Runaan’s the oldest assassin in Silvergrove history, and he taught me everythin’ I know about fightin’.” Rayla said proudly. “Skor’s only a few years younger, he’s one of the strongest people I know.”

Callisto was distracted by the girl’s informative chatter by Skor’s rough voice behind them growling, “ Runaan.  Look. .”

“I felt it too.” Runaan said, and Callisto was too distracted by the ribbon turning blood red and slipping from their wrist to note his tone.  They looked back at him in alarm, seeing the right hand ribbon falling and landing on Skor’s grip and Runaan’s, too.  Runaan’s eyes were on Callisto’s ribbon and then darted up towards the other assassins. “Andromeda, Ram, Rayla.” He said sharply, and his teal eyes widened.

Callisto didn’t like the implication of that when they turned around and saw - the other three assassins also held the blood red remains of the ribbons that had been bound to the life of the king. “How is that possible?” They asked tightly. “We’re all here.”

“I don’t understand.” Andromeda said, waving the ribbon as if to confirm it was real.

“Unless one of us is an illusion,” Ram pointed out, looking from Rayla to Callisto and Runaan. 

Runaan shook his head. “An illusion this solid requires a focus, like a moonstone or an opal, to get this far from the caster.  We would know.”

“Well we didn’t do it,” Ram said in frustration.

“Someone else must’ve wanted it to happen, too.” Andromeda said, frowning down at her freed wrist. 

“Wait a minute, what’s happening?” the older prince demanded with an alarmed frown. “What aren’t you telling us?”

How could they explain that the boy’s father was dead?  They had come fully intending to kill the king, but chosen to leave.  Yet somehow, the king was dead anyway.  They didn’t even know what had happened to him. 

Runaan stepped in before Callisto had even finished figuring out how to begin to answer the question, his face careful and almost sympathetic.  His brows were furrowed and his ears tilted respectfully downward as he stepped forward and knelt in front of the boys. “I can answer your question,” He said evenly. “But I must warn you, the answer will leave you with pain and more questions, and they will be questions I do not have the answers to.  You will be confused and hurt.  I am not denying you answers, but you should be aware of what you ask before you ask it.”

The boy held his gaze for a long moment and his lower lip trembled.  The younger prince looked horribly confused and finally a bit frightened, hugging his glow toad to his chest.  The older one broke the silence. “It’s the king, isn’t it?  He’s gone.”

Runaan nodded and Callisto twitched, wondering how the boy had guessed.

“How?” Prince Callum demanded despite Runaan’s warning about not having the answers. “I mean, you’re the assassins!  You left!  You didn’t leave any behind, at least - at least I don’t think so, your campsite didn’t seem like there was anyone else.”

“Dad’s gone?” Prince Ezran asked in a small voice, and Rayla put a hand on his shoulder as his little eyes welled with tears.

Moon damn them, Callisto felt their heart twitch with unwanted sympathy for the weeping child.  They had lost their own father at a little younger than Prince Ezran.  The feeling was all too familiar. 

“I don’t know.” Runaan answered gently, and the older prince furiously rubbed at visibly wet eyes.

“The dark mage.” Skor growled, and they all looked at him.  He shook his head. “He attacked the prince with dark magic.  Why not the king?”

“He planned to use us as a scapegoat,” Callisto followed the reasoning, frowning. “But then when we left . . .”

Prince Callum shook his head rapidly. “No!  I don’t now why Lord Viren did that, but he was my - he was the king’s best friend!  He wouldn’t.  He just - I don’t know why anyone would.  He was a good king!  He was a good -” His voice cracked and his knees abruptly buckled, taking him down on the ground next to his sobbing little brother, and he wrapped an arm around the younger boy as if automatically. “He was a really good dad.”

“If the king was killed by someone in Katolis these boys are probably safer with us than they are at home.” Andromeda said in a low tone, her brows furrowed and eyes focused as she looked at them. “Something’s happening, and it’s bigger than all of us.”

“Agreed.” Runaan rumbled, and looked back down at the children and then over at Rayla and up to the sky, where sunrise was turning the horizon red and gold. “We walk with forces beyond us now.  We keep the princes with us and alive.  I want to know what happened back there before we let them out of our sight.”

They all murmured their agreement, and Callisto edged closer to Skor to wait as the children wept.  This had just become something far, far bigger than they had anticipated.  This was no longer vengeance between nations.  This was something else, something more chaotic, and their failed assassination might be about to pave the way for far worse consequences. They had to keep these princes - all of them, dragon and human - safe.

But from who ?

Who was the real enemy if the one they believed in was dead, and not by their hands?

Notes:

let me know if the POV switch to Callisto was too jarring. I just wanted to experiment.

Chapter 3: Fallout

Summary:

Andromeda has a crisis, and Runaan and Rayla finally have a few words with each other.

The children were still in tears, even Rayla’s eyes shining, and Andromeda’s heart ached for them.  She had planned to inflict the same loss, but . . . it wasn’t a part of her duty that she enjoyed.  A small child’s grief was nothing to be proud of, and Prince Ezran was so very small where he curled into his brother’s arm. 

Runaan and Rayla were still kneeling beside them, Rayla’s hand resting tentatively on the older prince’s shoulder.  Runaan’s eyes were distant, calculating.  When Andromeda looked around at the others, she saw Ram frowning in thought too.  Skor’s face was cool and blank as he kept an eye on the trees, but Callisto was staring at the ground with the same sort of calculating look as Runaan, though theirs was a bit more frantic. 

“We can’t stay here,” She broke the silence with not a little regret, hating the way it made Prince Callum flinch. “We don’t know who killed the king, and they will be searching for us.  All of us.  We came here for vengeance, but whoever did this likely had other motivations - staging some sort of coup.”

The older prince gave a ragged, gasping breath and hugged his brother tighter as he looked up suddenly.  Runaan hummed a low agreement, but before he could answer, the boy did. “They’ll be after Ezran.” He looked down at his brother and gave him a nudge. “Come on, buddy.  We’ve got to get up.  We need to go.”

“Where?” Ezran cried through tears that made Andromeda’s heart go out to him. “If Dad’s gone don’t we have to go home?  Don’t I have to be - ?” He choked on the end of the sentence but she could guess what he meant.  It surprised her a bit that the humans had put such a heavy burden on such a small child, that he knew it was his responsibility to rule the country after his father’s death.

Callum was shaking his head. “Whoever went after Dad is probably after you too.  I promised him I’d keep you safe, so until we find out what happened, we’ve got to go.  I can’t let something happen to you too.” His lip was trembling and his face was as wet as Prince Ezran’s, but he helped the younger boy sit up a little bit more anyway and shifted onto his own feet, crouching at his side.

“If we don’t know what happened, how do we know where to go?  Where’s safe?” Ezran asked, clutching his toad to his chest with one arm and his brother’s jacket with the other little hand, and Andromeda was forcibly reminded of her younger brother clutching at her cloak the first time she had left him on a mission after their father was killed.  This was a child .  She swallowed hard. 

“Well,” Prince Callum looked up at the elves that surrounded them, meeting Runaan’s gaze, Rayla’s, Ram’s, and hers as Callisto and Skor looked away. “For now, I think we’re safe with the elves.  We’ve still got the egg that needs to go back to Xadia.”

Prince Ezran wiped his face with a sob. “So what do we do?”

“Mom always said if you don’t know what to do next, just do what you know you can, and then you’ll have the space to figure it out,” Callum said, sniffling as he gained some of his breath and composure back.  He wiped his eyes too. “Right now, we know we need to get this egg back to Xadia so the dragons know we want to help them.  Once we do that, we can figure out what’s next.”

“We will protect you on the journey to Xadia.” Runaan said, in the tone he usually reserved for reassuring the elflings after scary stories on the Blood Moon, and Andromeda bit her tongue, eyes fixed on the children.

Not just human princes.

As Runaan’s tone implied, vulnerable, very frightened children.

“This idea of forming a peace suddenly sounds almost manageable,” Ram observed aloud, and Andromeda shot her eyes to him, incredulous at the timing of the statement.  He shrugged when he noticed her and Rayla glaring, and explained, “The human princes help us to return the dragon prince, and we rescue the human princes.  Peace only works if both sides agree to it.  Now Katolis has a reason.”

“We had a reason before,” Prince Callum didn’t quite spit at him, but he said it firmly as he helped his brother to his feet. “We want peace.  We don’t want anybody else to have to die, and neither do you.  So we all agree.”

It was a . . . naive way of thinking.  Everything was so much more complicated than that.  Yet he wasn’t entirely wrong, either.  Andromeda just wasn’t certain the rest of the world could let go of things as simply as a child.

“So right now, we get the egg to Xadia.  That’s step one.  Hopefully, along the way we’ll figure out something about what happened at home.” Prince Callum turned his attention back to his brother.

Prince Ezran nodded, wrapping both arms around his toad again as he stood on his own two feet and sniffled. “We get the egg home to its mother.”

“Right.  You ready to go?” Callum asked gently.

He reminded Andromeda of herself, a bit.  This was exactly how she had been with Sirius when their father died.  She dropped her gaze, unable to quite look at them anymore as she thought of how close she had come to causing them this pain.

Causing just Callum this pain, as she’d fully intended to end the other child’s life.

Was this justice?

Had the dragon queen known what she was asking them to do to this child?  Had she cared?

“We should hurry,” Prince Callum said with concern as Runaan straightened up and Rayla backed off, and the other assassins prepared to move.

Runaan shook his head. “A brisk walk is more efficient at covering ground than a sprint, and we came here on a stealth mission.  We brought no mounts.  Walk as you can.  If you grow tired too soon, we will decide what to do then.”

Both boys nodded, and they all began to resume the journey.  There was a heaviness in the children’s steps that hadn’t been there before, and the lack of weight on Andromeda’s right arm was a harsh reminder of where it came from. 

Moon help them.  Loss was harsh enough for the Moonshadow, who knew their loved ones simply passed into their next phase of existence.  She could not imagine how to go on after the death of her father if she hadn’t known he was all right.  

She kept a closer eye on them after that, remained closer to the group as Ram ranged ahead to scout their path.  She caught Rayla looking at her a few times, and part of her wished to lean on her friend as she wondered how to handle all this.  But Rayla’s lie still stung her.  Why hadn’t she just admitted she couldn’t kill the guard?  Why volunteer to kill him anyway if she couldn’t go through with it?

It didn’t matter now.  It shouldn’t matter now.  Rayla had uncovered a much greater truth that may be a mercy for them all.  Still . . . it hurt that Rayla hadn’t just trusted them.  Had she expected them to kill her outright before the lie?

Skor had pointed out they should as his first reaction, she supposed.

But they wouldn’t have.  Rayla had to know Runaan would never have let that happen, and they all respected him far too much to disregard that.  Andromeda couldn’t imagine that Rayla didn’t trust Runaan .  The man had raised her, trained her - he had been the one to stain her horns when she came of age, even.  He had overseen her first challenge season.  His husband had been the one to put the braid in Rayla’s hair.  So it had to be the rest of them that Rayla didn’t trust.

It stung.  Andromeda had been friends with the girl since she was only eight years old, sneaking after her foster father to see him train.  Rayla had been the one to help her master Moonshadow form after months of trying under Runaan’s tutelage.  She had taught Rayla how to fight with curved blades.  Rayla was one of her brother’s pridemates, and Andromeda had looked after them on her rotation more than once before they grew old enough not to need pride parents from day to day.

“Callum?” Prince Ezran said in a small voice, as he kept walking, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of them.

“What is it, Ez?” Prince Callum replied gently.

“We’re not going to be home for Dad’s funeral, are we?”

Andromeda felt the last of her professional distance crumble to pieces.

“No.  I don’t think so.” Callum put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, and the boys just kept walking, resigning themselves to this fate, and Andromeda blinked rapidly as her eyes burned.  She had to pause for a moment to gather herself.

A warm hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up to see Runaan pausing to check on her.  He tilted his head towards the children with a twitch of his ears, expression soft and brows furrowed with concern.

She shook her head. “They deserve a chance to say goodbye to their father.” She said in low tones. “And they won’t be at his funeral.”

“There are other ways to remember the dead.” Runaan said softly, and she flinched as she was reminded that his father had never been found, not really.  He’d never had a funeral to attend. “Life always comes first, Andromeda.  The dead need nothing from this world.  That egg is a new life that we must give the chance to live.” he glanced towards the children. “The human princes are offering it that chance.” He met her gaze again. “The dead can wait.”

Andromeda nodded, somewhat comforted by her mentor’s calm reassurance.  Still, her heart went out to the children who would also have to live with this consequence, who weren’t being offered this wisdom. “What should we tell them?” She asked as Skor passed them. 

Runaan raised his eyebrows at her. “What they ask, Andromeda.  Otherwise, we let them grieve.  And we keep moving, to keep them alive.  Our objective may have changed, but our consequences have not.” He pointedly raised his left arm, the silver ribbon tightening around his bicep as she felt its match on her left wrist. “Human loss and grief is different than ours.  Let them tell us what they need.”

It made sense, as much as she wished she could be proactive.  Andromeda nodded anyway and her eyes flicked towards the group, as they were being left behind.  She rubbed her forehead tiredly, and ran her fingers through her hair to touch the metal cuffs on her horns.  She thought of Elyrin, who she had left in Moonshadow Forest promising she would come home.  He would assume by now that her mission was complete, with her lotus still afloat, though news wouldn’t have reached him for certain yet from the Storm Spire, even if Runaan had sent his shadowhawk to report.

They would take the egg home to its mother, and then, when they identified who had killed the king, return the princes to their people.  Their quest for vengeance had become a quest for life, because of the truth Rayla had uncovered.

“Come.” Runaan said, tone not unkind, and brushed her elbow with his hand as he resumed walking. “We mustn’t fall behind.”

“Of course.” She broke into a trot to catch up with him, and then passed him to resume scouting ahead with Ram.  The younger assassin tilted his ears back curiously when she joined him, and she shook her head, not yet ready to discuss it with the hot-tempered youth.  He shrugged and split away from her again. 

 

Near sunhigh, Andromeda dropped back to Runaan’s side again.  He raised an eyebrow when he noticed Rayla look back and then turn away rather than joining them.  He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with that confrontation later.  He hoped they could work it out amongst themselves.

“Runaan,” Andromeda said respectfully. “We’ll need to stop soon.  Look at the children, they’re exhausted.  I’m not sure how much longer the little prince can go on like this.” She gestured at Prince Ezran, where the boy was stumbling more and more the longer they walked.

It hadn’t escaped his notice, and it wasn’t really a surprise.  The night before had been eventful for them all, and only Ezran had gotten any sleep, and he only a handful of hours before they had to leave.  As much as Runaan loathed needing to find a campsite during broad daylight, he felt the tiredness pulling at his own bones as well after two days and a night on his feet. “Scout ahead for a campsite.” He agreed wearily. “But Andromeda - remember, we have no failsafe now.” The locket Ethari had given him lay shattered in the pocket of his bag. “Whatever you find, that is what concealment we have.”

She nodded quickly and struck out ahead.  As she and Ram scouted, the bulk of the group came upon the banks of a river.  Luckily, most of it was still relatively shielded by trees, so Runaan felt somewhat less exposed than along most of its banks.

“Rayla,” Callisto called, and pointed firmly towards the water’s edge. “Go clean that wound.  I’ll keep watch for ye and we can catch up later.”

“Oh.” Rayla looked at the water with distaste and her shoulders dropped. “Right.” She slunk reluctantly towards the edge of it, Callisto snorting openly as they herded her along.

Ah.  Runaan couldn’t let the opportunity for a moment alone with her pass, not on such a tight schedule. “Go on, Callisto.  I will stay with her.”

Callisto glanced at him with surprise and raised an eyebrow.  Whatever they saw in his face made them shake their head and shrug. “All right.  If she comes back with even a speck of black in her arm, I’m blamin’ you, Master of Blades.” They said pointedly as they changed course from the riverbank. 

“Go on.” Runaan said in exasperation, and joined Rayla by the riverbank as the rest of the group moved on. 

She looked up at him from the corner of her eye with a timid attempt at a smile. “Another lecture?” She guessed.

Runaan sighed and reached for her arm, taking her bound wrist in hand and beginning to help her clean the wound on her bicep. “You disobeyed me.”

“I know.”

“After lying to me.”

“I know.”

“What did you think would happen, Rayla?” He asked, keeping his eyes focused on the wound so he wouldn’t see her face.  He couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“I know I messed everythin’ up,” Rayla said dejectedly. “I thought I could fix it, if I just went in by myself.”

Runaan scoffed in disbelief. “Did you really think you could walk into the castle in broad daylight and complete a mission the six of us could hardly do under the cover of night, with the advantage of the full moon?  Rayla, you are immensely talented, and strong, and skilled for your age, but that was a suicide.”

She flinched under his hands. “I couldn’t just stay behind.  I have to do this, Runaan, you know why I’m here.  I have to make up for what my parents did!”

“I know,” Runaan said around the lump in his chest. “Believe me, Rayla, I know, or I would never have brought you here.  But I gave you an order.  Your job was to sit and wait, and then to go home.”

“That wouldn’t have made up for anythin’ .” Rayla protested.

“It also would not have shamed you, as you were acting under my orders,” Runaan argued. “I would rather you live and get the chance to try again than die for an empty redemption.”

Rayla looked down at the water with a frustrated huff. “But you were willin’ to die for it.” She pointed out bitterly. “You were willin’ to let everyone else die for it.  What makes me so special?  What makes the rest of you different?”

She was his ward , his daughter in all but name - it was his job to protect her.  But he couldn’t say that.  Right now, he wasn’t her guardian, he was her leader, and he had to act as such.  Runaan sighed slowly as he held her arm still, feeling her flex it in pain as he had to dig into the wound for the ash. “The rest of us have nothing to prove.” He said softly, instead of admitting his selfish reasons for keeping her safe. “When we are killed it will not be some last act of redemption, but a simple act of duty.  You deserve the chance to regain an honor you get to live with, as we have.”

Rayla’s shoulders dropped and a whimper made it out of her throat as he kept scrubbing at her wound. “I’m sorry.  I’ll do better, I swear.”

“That’s the problem , Rayla.” Runaan said impatiently, though he paused to draw a rune on her intact skin and whispered the spell words that would dull her pain until he was finished. “ Sentire non dolorem .”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Rayla pouted at him. “I can handle it.”

“You don’t have to.” Runaan said shortly, though he knew well that Callisto would never have offered her that sort of gentleness.  Her or anyone but perhaps Skor, really.  Callisto often said that if healing felt good it wasn’t working. “You have lied and betrayed us more than once since we arrived in Katolis, and in terrible ways.”

“None of that matters now.  We have the egg, isn’t that more important?” Rayla protested.

“None of it matters to the dragons , but it still matters to the elves you betrayed, Rayla.” Runaan said sharply, finally looking at her, his heart sitting heavy in his chest at the guilt in her eyes. “You have broken my trust, all of our trust.  Yes, we are united in this mission again, but you had no way of knowing this would happen any better than we did.  Your betrayals stand on their own, regardless of where they have led.”

Rayla cast her eyes elsewhere with her jaw set stubbornly, but her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you really are.” Runaan said bluntly, ignoring it when she tried to twitch away from him. “I think it bothers you that we are hurt, but I don’t think you’re truly sorry for what you’ve done.  And there is a line to be walked there, as the results of your actions have granted us a chance at mercy that we never would have had otherwise.  But apologies and promises ring hollow from you now.  You have broken our trust.  You will need to prove you deserve it, to earn it back, and Rayla, you must understand that there are some who may never forgive you.”

She looked down at the water again. “Skor.”

“Probably,” He agreed. “But Andromeda, too.  She trusted you, and you lied to her.  You know how much honesty matters to her.  And Ram.  He was proud of being chosen for this mission and you have turned the responsibility he believed in on its head.  That will take time to cope with, even if he has agreed to the mission now.  If Callisto hadn’t spoken for you-”

“They would have killed me.” Rayla cut him off and scowled at his reflection in the water below them. “Why didn’t you speak for me?” She demanded, real hurt lacing her tone. “You were just goin’ to let them .  That’s why I don’t understand why ye wanted me to stay behind, if the others-”

“I can’t speak for you, Rayla.” Runaan cut her off, meeting her gaze in the reflection too, too brittle to look at her directly. “I can’t.  My objectivity with you is compromised and everyone knows that.”

Rayla broke the look in their reflection and her ears flattened. “That’s only allowed for family.”

Runaan kept looking at her, though the words caught in his throat.  They had spent so long refusing to acknowledge it, out of respect for - for his friends, her parents.  This wasn’t the time to admit it.  She deserved better than this.  He shut his eyes and breathed a slow breath. “I couldn’t, Rayla.” he said simply, instead of quantifying it. “My word would have meant nothing.”

“It would have meant somethin’ to me .” Rayla said softly, without looking up at him, and he sighed. 

“I wanted to, for what it is worth.” He admitted, and examined her wounded arm.  It was bleeding now, but it didn’t seem to be excessive, and with the bleed he could no longer see any of the black ash that covered it.  He cupped some water in his hands and rinsed the bleed clear, checking it over, and still saw none.  She would need a bandage, but they had removed all the ash, it seemed.

Rayla swallowed hard when he flicked his eyes up to her face. “Thanks.” She said, dejectedly, and finally looked back at him with weary determination. “I’ll prove myself to you again, Runaan.  I swear it.”

“Then show it to me as we move on.” He replied firmly, and pulled a roll of cloth from his pack to bandage her arm.  He wrapped it quickly and ensured it wouldn’t slide off when she moved. “We should catch up with the others.” He released the spell he had been holding to dull the pain in her arm and she winced.

“Yes, sir.” Rayla tested her arm and nodded. “And . . . thank ye.  For givin’ me another chance.”

Always. “Track them, Rayla.  Show me what you can do.” He ordered instead of admitting it, to give her something to do, and she nodded and obeyed.

He took a deep, slow breath as she did and glanced back to ensure they’d left no trace at the riverside.  They hadn’t.

He should have listened to Ethari about her from the beginning, but it was too late for regrets now.  He prayed she would find a new path in the chance he - and more directly, these human princes - had given her, for she hadn’t the heart to follow his.

Chapter 4: Magical Lore

Summary:

Callum gets a lesson in magic, and remembers the cube from the Banther Lodge.

Notes:

Wtf is this fic doing to me. How do I have two updates in a day. What even.

The elves woke up surprisingly early.  Then again, Callum wasn’t sure if he was surprised they woke up early or that they didn’t wake him, after they all slept through till dawn.  They hadn’t found a campsite until late evening, and he’d been half-carrying Ezran for hours before their leader - Runaan - had offered to take over.  He hadn’t accepted the offer.  As much as he truly thought the elves wanted the same things they did, he couldn’t forget that these people had come to kill Ezran just the day before, and Runaan had a hardness in his eyes that Rayla just didn’t.

Most of them did, though the one she called Andromeda seemed a little less sure after they realized the king was - after they realized what happened.  The one named Callisto seemed to have a sense of humor, at least, too, and that was something.  They at least smiled when Callum managed to make a joke.

None of them bothered him as he set up his sketchbook and tried to draw the orb he’d gotten from Claudia.  Andromeda and Callisto, the two he’d thought most friendly, were both missing from the campsite.  The others appeared to be doing maintenance on their weapons.  He just tried to stay out of the way and focused on the primaball.

He didn’t realize how focused he was on it until Rayla barked “Hey!” from above his head.  He almost dropped it in surprise. 

“Sorry, I guess I was just distracted trying to draw this primaball.” He confessed. 

“Primal stone.” She corrected with an arched brow, and sat down beside him.

“Right.” He cleared his throat, looking back at the stone he held, focusing on his interest in that over his grief. “It holds the pure essence of a primal spirit inside,” He informed her proudly.

Unimpressed, the elf deadpanned, “Primal source.”

“Right.” Callum bit his lip, suddenly reminded that elves were by nature magical, and she probably knew all of this already.

“You do know what the six Primal Sources are?” She asked as if it were something everyone should know.

Callum cleared his throat. “If I say yes are you gonna make me name them?”

She rolled her eyes and held her hand out, presumably for the stone.  Instead of giving it to her, Callum put it down and handed her his sketchbook and charcoal.  She shrugged and flipped to a blank page and began to draw. “All magic in the world comes from the six Primal Sources.  They’re the original and purest forms of magical energy.  The Sun, the Moon, the Stars, the Earth, the Ocean, aaaand -” She tapped the stone with his charcoal.

“The Sky,” Callum followed her reasoning, fascinated.

“Yes.  To cast a spell, you need magical energy.  So that wind breath spell ye did, you’d usually need a storm or at least a strong breeze.  But with that-”

“I was going to just let you talk, but I cannot have you spreading misinformation about Primal Stones to the humans.” The leader of the assassins said with a put-upon sort of sigh, setting his blades aside to come sit near them.

Rayla wrinkled her nose at him. “It’s not misinformation!  Mages need primal energy to do magic.”

“Yes, but that energy can come from a myriad sources.” Runaan said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Did I use a primal stone yesterday when I cast a spell on you?”

“Well - no.”

“Because creatures that have an inherent connection to primal magic may draw upon their source regardless of its strength in an area.”

Callum frowned. “So how come Primal Stones matter to elves?  You guys can just do magic whenever.  A human needs a Primal Stone to do it.”

“Precisely.  But Rayla is right, spells require energy to be cast.  A Primal Stone is an endless well of that energy.  A mage who casts without a source, like moonlight for us, or a strong breeze for a sky mage, casts it using the energy in their own core.  There is a limit, and reaching it will kill the mage.  Primal Stones enable magic without cost to the individual casting it.”

“They’re incredibly rare, and they’ve been sought after by Archmages for centuries.” Rayla added. “And now somehow you have one.”

“Wow.” Callum looked down at the symbols she’d drawn in his sketchbook and tilted his head, trying to think why they looked familiar.  It wasn’t something he saw all the time.  Something associated with the cold, but it wasn’t cold, and fun, but it wasn’t - “Wait!  I’ve seen these symbols before.  At the Banther Lodge, there’s this cube, and it has these exact symbols on it!” He stood up in his excitement, barely aware of his volume rising, but acutely aware of how even on his feet he barely stood above Runaan’s horns where the older man was seated on the ground.

“Um . . . neat?” Rayla said, and Runaan just made the same politely disinterested expression as she was making, as if they didn’t understand the implications of what Callum had just said.

“What if it’s magic?” He asked excitedly. “We should go get it!”

“Wait, what?” Rayla squeaked.

“Absolutely not,” Runaan said flatly.

“We have real problems here!” Rayla agreed as Callum gathered up his things, and both elves stood up to respond to him. “Like takin’ this egg back to Xadia!”

“What’s going on?” Ram asked sharply, sheathing a dagger at his hip with a look that made Callum’s nerves shiver like a partially trapped dead leaf. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Callum held up his hands defensively. “There’s a cube at the Banther Lodge that has a bunch of these magical symbols on it!  It might actually be magic.  We have to go get it.”

“Your brother isn’t even awake yet.” Runaan pointed out, holding out a hand as if to stop him from moving. “Why don’t you draw this cube of yours for me first, and give him a little time to wake up?”

His tone was so much like King Harrow’s when he said it that Callum was halfway through nodding and opening his sketchbook before he realized he’d been had.  He blinked and looked up at the elf, who was raising an eyebrow at him, and then over at Ezran.  The kid was still asleep . . . and he looked peaceful.  If he woke up, he’d have to deal with . . .

Callum sat back down reluctantly and began to draw the cube from memory.  Runaan stepped around him to return to his blades, carefully gathering up his tools.  He and the other elves were wrapping up camp around them slowly, as if waiting for something.  Callisto and Andromeda made their way out of the trees as Callum was finishing the drawing.

“Runaan!” Callum started, when he had it done, and then felt like shriveling up when the menacing elf turned to look at him. “Sir.  Should I call you sir?  Or do you have another title I should be using, or-”

“My name is fine.” Runaan said blandly and turned to face Callum, but his gaze went to the returning scouts. “Callisto, Andromeda.  Anything?”

Andromeda held up a bag. “Found some moonberries.  We should be good on supplies for an extra day or two.”

Callisto shook their head. “Nothing to worry about.  Paths off the road are a bit overgrown, doesn’t look like they see much use, and they’re clear enough for us.”

“Good.”

“You were scouting out a path?” Callum asked, dismayed as he realized they were planning where to go next before he’d even found out about the cube. “Wait, but we have to go by the Banther Lodge to get the cube thingy.  If it’s magic, it could be useful!” He could be useful, as more than just some weight slowing them all down.  The elves were all so capable, and it was Ezran’s gesture that was important.

Callisto tilted their head. “What’s this about a magic cube?”

Runaan sighed, but Rayla was the one who answered the question. “Prince Callum thinks he’s seen a cube with the symbols of the primal sources on it at some human lodge, and he wants to go get it.”

“We’re not going off course to fetch a toy,” Ram scoffed, scowling when Callum looked at him. “We don’t have much time.  The sooner we get back to Xadia the better.  It’s not worth the trip.”

Andromeda hummed. “They’re children, Ram.  And they just lost their father.  Be nice.”

“Forgive me if I think the fate of the world might be a little more important than their delicate young feelings, Andromeda,” Ram retorted.

“We don’t know what it is,” Callum protested. “It could be a tool!  Something magical that could actually help us!  Look, I drew it.” He held out his sketchbook page, showing the image to Ram - who scoffed, unimpressed, and then turning desperately to Runaan, hoping the leader would override him. “It has the same symbols Rayla showed me on it.  Why would a human toy have those?  It has to be Xadian.”

Callisto leaned on their glaive with a thoughtful tilt to their head. “It could be Xadian,” They admitted. “Our people used to live only a few days’ travel from here.  Some old relic from the old Moonshadow realm, perhaps.”

“A relic still isn’t worth changing course for.” Ram argued.

“Look,” Callum said, going for broke. “You guys are all so impressive, and capable, and I’m just -” he sighed. “Princes are supposed to be good at things like sword fighting, and leadership, and riding horses.  I’ve always been kind of bad at everything.” Ram looked away. “So when I used that spell, I thought for sure I’d end up on fire or covered in spiders.  But it worked!  And then she called me a mage, and that felt right.  I just . . . I just have a feeling that cube thing could help.”

The elves exchanged glances, mostly above his head, and not for the first time he wished he were taller.  Rayla at least was rubbing her arm below her bandage, looking at the ground, and he hoped he’d gotten through to her.  If he had gotten through to her, maybe she could change the others’ minds like she had before.

“We should fetch it.” The quiet one, Skor, rasped in a voice like gravel, sheathing his sword and giving them all a serious look.

Callum blinked.  That wasn’t support from the direction he’d been expecting.  Up until now, Skor had seemed one of the more reluctant to have . . . anything to do with them.  He brightened at the agreement, though he shrank a little inside when Skor just frowned. 

Ram scoffed in disbelief. “I thought you’d be on my side, Skor.  We can’t waste time going to fetch some toy or relic, we have precious little of it to begin with.”

“If it’s magical, we don’t want it in the hands of a Dark Mage.” Skor growled. “We should fetch it.”

“If?” Ram challenged.

Callisto hummed with less certainty. “That’s a fair question, Skor.  We don’t know for certain if it’s magical or just a pretty block.”

Skor grunted. “Looks Xadian.”

“Even if it isn’t magical, it should be returned to Xadia too, then.” Callum pressed. “And if it is, it could be really useful!”

“Or it could be nothing,” Ram snapped. “Skor, this is foolish.  You want us to waste time to go fetch something on the chance that this human child has stumbled on a powerful magical artifact, and no one’s realized it until now?”

Skor bared his teeth and Callum twitched, but none of the other elves seemed to find this an unusual behavior, so he tried not to show his discomfort. “And if it is magical, and makes it into the hands of the dark mage?”

“That’s layers of ifs and maybes,” Ram argued stubbornly. “How long has it sat there that this child is remembering it, with magical ability just undiscovered?  We have a time limit .”

“We’ll lose more time if the mage can use it on us.” Skor said flatly, standing up straight and folding his arms. 

Ram scoffed. “Again, if.  And we have more important things to worry about, like ending this war.  We can’t be taking time off on side trips because you think there might possibly be a chance that someone might possibly do something that might slow us down in the future.”

“Any chance is a bad chance with dark magic.” Skor growled.

Runaan folded his arms and arched an eyebrow when Callum looked at him for help, as the argument seemed to simmer to those two elves in particular.  Instead of intervening, their apparent leader just watched them argue.

“If this thing has Xadian symbology it’s most likely Xadian in origin,” Ram said, throwing his hands out in exasperation. “Which means even if it is magical, it’s not dark magic, it’s primal magic.”

“So we should get it back to Xadia.”

“We have far more important cargo to be carrying right now!”

“Primal magic is as dangerous as dark magic if it’s used by a dark mage.” Skor growled. “We.  Should.  Fetch.  It.”

Ram bared his teeth right back at the older assassin. “It’s not worth the risk and time it would take, Skor.  We can’t get sidetracked from our mission just because we’ve heard tell of some other artifact that might also belong in Xadia, or because you think it might potentially be dangerous in the wrong hands, when it’s been sitting here in the human kingdoms for Moon only knows how long.”

Skor opened his mouth and seemed to cough on a word before just hissing at Ram. “Stop.  Makin’.  Me.  Talk.” He spat.

Callum looked to the other elves to see if this was normal.  Andromeda and Runaan just looked on with the same cool concern as before.  Rayla winced vaguely, but also did not seem surprised.  Callisto was digging in their bag for something.

“I’ve said my piece.” Skor rasped, and looked to Runaan. “Your call.”

Runaan met his gaze for a moment and gave a slow breath before looking back down at Callum as if weighing their options. “Where is this Banther Lodge?” He asked evenly.

“It’s to the east - it’ll be right on our way.” Callum brightened with hope.

“How heavily guarded is it?”

“That’s the beauty of it - it shouldn’t be guarded at all,” Callum replied proudly. “The Banther Lodge is the winter lodge, and it’s the middle of summer.  No one will be there at all.  No winter, no humans!”

Runaan’s next sigh was audible from several feet away as he shot Ram a look. “So what I am hearing is that the only time we will lose fetching this item for you will be the time it takes to walk in and fetch it as we pass, and we may only need one of us to do this task.”

“Yep.”

Ram sputtered. “Skor didn’t know that any more than I did.”

“No,” Runaan allowed. “But he at least had more than two talking points.”

When Callum followed the older assassin’s gesture back to Skor, he blinked with surprise as he saw Callisto handing Skor a handful of orange berries.  Skor made a quick hand gesture that looked like a sign at them before accepting them.  It wasn’t a sign that Callum recognized, though, and he was distracted from figuring out what the berries were for by Ezran’s sleepy voice calling to him. 

“Callum?”He quickly turned to his little brother. “I had a weird dream.”

Oh, no.  Callum went to kneel at his side, Andromeda stepping out of his way. “It wasn’t a dream, Ez.  All of that was real.” He said wearily.  Being attacked by an elf, finding a dragon egg, escaping the castle with a whole group of elves, and then finding out their father was dead . . . 

“Really?” Ezran asked skeptically. “Are you sure?  There was this giant pink hippopotamus, and I pulled its ear off, because it was made of taffy.” 

Callum realized halfway through the statement that Ezran had not been talking about what happened the night before, and it left him stammering. A couple of the elves - Runaan and Callisto, he thought from the sound - chuckled over his shoulder.  Andromeda was giggling behind her hand with a fond grin on her face when he glanced at them, as Rayla and Ram just looked unimpressed.

“No, that was a dream,” He said awkwardly. “I thought you meant the elves, the smoke wolves, the dragon egg.  That was all real.”

Ezran was barely paying attention. “Then I tried to thank the hippo for the taffy, but he couldn’t hear me!  Because I was eating his ears!”

At this Callisto laughed out loud, and seemed to break Andromeda’s composure as her laughter broke containment behind her hand as well.  Ezran frowned momentarily, looking around Callum to where they stood, but he seemed to brighten when he saw Andromeda grin fondly through the laughter.

“Now that the young princes are awake, we can move.” Runaan said with a shake of his head and a glimmer of a smile. “This Banther Lodge was likely the same cabin we saw on our journey into Katolis.  We’ll send someone in to fetch this cube as we pass.”

“I’ll go,” Rayla volunteered.

“Send the child in to get it,” Ram said. “Save time by knowing where to find it, at least.” He shrugged reluctantly when Runaan and Skor shot him fierce looks.

Callum nodded as he helped Ezran to his feet. “I can do that.  But really, it’s probably just in the miscellaneous box in the game room, since nobody knows what it does.  I’m pretty sure that’s where we left it.  It’ll only take a few minutes to grab.”

“We will cross that bridge when we come to it.” Runaan said, and gathered up the bedroll Ezran had been sleeping on, storing it in his packs. “Move.  Ram, Rayla, I want the two of you scouting today.  Andromeda, flank the children.  Callisto, join her, stay where you can keep an eye on Rayla’s arm.  Skor and I will guard the rear as before.”

The other elves scattered to do his bidding, and Callum helped Ezran shrug on the backpack carrying the dragon egg.  He could hardly believe that had worked.  The elves were going to help him learn magic!  Sort of.

Chapter 5: The Banther Lodge (Part 1)

Summary:

Someone really should have expected soldiers to be meeting the boys at the Banther Lodge. Even the assassins are victims of poor planning.

Notes:

I had an extra that wasn't quite long enough to go in the chapter. You can find the elves' exchange immediately after Ezran leaves here: https://www.tumblr.com/dragon-susceptible/776348758126608384/different-path-taken-ch5-different-perspective?source=share

“I can go in with you,” Callum was offering, and Ezran bit his lip, looking down at Bait. “I know right where it should be.”

“You’ll be here to protect me, right Bait?” Ezran asked the glow toad softly.  The elf nearest him, Skor, twitched an ear like a cat that had heard something, but his face didn’t change, so maybe he hadn’t heard.  Despite what Callum thought, Ezran knew these elves were the ones who had intended to kill his dad.  They had had a whole discussion about it on the ramparts right in front of him.  He didn’t know why they were trying to tiptoe around it now.  He trusted Rayla not to hurt him, and Callisto and Runaan had come a long way, but still . . . he felt better with Callum and Rayla nearby.

And now they were both leaving.  But it was important!  They needed to get the cube from the Banther Lodge.  It was some sort of magical item, Callum thought. 

“All right, fine.  But don’t slow me down.” Rayla threatened.

“I won’t.  We’ll be right back, Ezran.  Don’t worry.  You won’t even know we’re gone.” Callum promised, patting him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Ezran said and smiled bravely back. “Be back soon!”

“We will.” Callum patted him again and then ran after Rayla, who was already on her way towards the Lodge.

Runaan huffed softly. “We move on, then.  This shouldn’t take so long it impedes their ability to catch up.  Come.” He beckoned, and Ezran hiked his pack up his shoulders again and followed the long-legged adult elves.

He had to admit he appreciated that Runaan shortened his lengthy stride to walk nearby, though the other elves were terrible at it and just kept ranging around them like herding dogs.  He was so focused on keeping up and keeping in step with Runaan that he was startled when Callisto suddenly snapped a warning.

“Runaan.  We’ve got a problem.”

“What problem?” Runaan stopped so quickly Ezran almost ran into his heels.

Callisto nodded down a slope towards the road. “Soldiers.”

Runaan joined him at the edge, both crouching there to stay relatively concealed, and Ezran crawled up next to them to peek.  His eyes widened as he recognized the Katolian banners.  These were his own soldiers.  His country’s banner, anyway.

“There’s too many of them to fight.” Ram said lowly from nearby.

“Runaan.  It’s her.” Skor rasped, and when Ezran looked at him in confusion, every line of the elf’s body was coiled like a spring, his jaw tight and his brown eyes focused on the leader of the company. 

Runaan looked down again and hummed an acknowledgement. “The deaf general.  I see it too.”

The deaf general? “Aunt Amaya?” Ezran squeaked, heart leaping in his chest at the thought of seeing her again.  He could really use a hug from Aunt Amaya with - with everything that had happened. “Why would she be here?  How can you tell?”

“Of course she’s their aunt.” Ram sighed. 

“How do you know it’s her?” Andromeda asked curiously.

Runaan nodded down at the company. “Look not at the leader, at the man riding beside her.  He wears no weapon and no helm.  Nothing to occupy his hands or conceal his face.  He isn’t a soldier.  He’s her voice.” He looked back up the road in the direction the soldiers were traveling. “They’ll never leave in time.”

Sure enough, when Ezran peeked down at the soldiers again, he recognized the distinctive bright orange hair of Commander Gren.  An idea struck him just in time. “Wait!  I can go talk to her!” He said.

“No, it’s too dangerous.” Runaan dismissed it.

“No, she wouldn’t hurt me,” Ezran protested. “I can go down and get her distracted!  And then Rayla can sneak out, and Callum and I will too!  That way, nobody has to fight, and then we can go again.”

Runaan gave him a searching look and then glanced at the other assassins. “Callisto?”

Callisto shook their head. “We still don’t know who killed the king, and you didn’t even know why she would be here.  It could be that she came because she knew the king was going to be dead by now.”

“She wouldn’t do that to him!” Ezran snapped, drawing himself up to his full height, glowering at him. “Aunt Amaya would never hurt my dad!”

“Your brother said that about the Dark Mage, too.  You don’t know who would, which means you’re wrong about someone .” Callisto told him bluntly. 

Andromeda interrupted before Ezran’s frustration could boil over. “She’s not in line for the throne, though, until after her nephew takes it.  So even if she did stage the coup, she’ll want him alive for now.  And her other nephew is already in the lodge.  It will be suspicious if one is there and the other is missing.”

“True.” Runaan mused, tensing as Amaya drew closer to the bend in the road that would put them in view of the Lodge.

“Let me go slow her down,” Ezran pushed. “We can keep her distracted, and then we can all get out later.”

Ram grunted. “I have to point out, this means we’re losing time after all.”

“No one predicted the general making an appearance.” Runaan said impatiently. “Very well, Prince Ezran.  Andromeda is right, with your brother down there, it will draw her attention and her aggression if you are missing.  Go, slow her down.  If you do not emerge after nightfall, we will sneak in to get you all under the cover of darkness.”

Ezran nodded quickly. “Okay.  Don’t worry, we’ll get out safe.” he scurried back through the bushes as fast as he could to get around the bend before Aunt Amaya, and popped out of the trees to meet her in the front yard of the Lodge. 

 

“Oh, oh no.” Prince Callum slammed the door shut and shoved Rayla back away from it. “You need to go, go hide, like now.”

“What are you on about?” Rayla demanded, startled by his shoving. “We need ta get back to the others, they’re countin’ on us not to slow them down.” She managed to get a peek through a crack in the door and froze, letting him slam it again. “Oh.  Humans.”

“Lots of humans,” Prince Callum agreed. “With lots of swords and armor.  I have no idea why they’re here, oh my gosh, you need to hide.  Just, go hide, I’ll distract them, we can slip out later.  They’re probably here looking for me and Ezran, how could I be so stupid, I just thought, there’s no way anybody’s reached the Lodge yet with all the guards at the castle taken up by Soren!”

Rayla bolted instead of trying to calm him down, bounding up into the rafters with her heart pounding.  They had found the stupid cube, and the moon rune glowed when she touched it, but it otherwise appeared to be just some simple toy.  It had enough magic in it that the runes glowed near their respective primal energy, that was all.  It wasn’t useful for anything.  And now she had to hide in the rafters like an annoying little nightfox because he hadn’t expected soldiers to come looking for him.

“No winter no humans,” She mocked under her breath, scowling down at him before he popped out the door and shut it behind him.  She couldn’t really hear the voices from outside, so she slipped to one of the front windows and opened it to get a better view and ear for what was going on.

None of the human soldiers looked up at the roof as she peeked out, coming out to the edge to listen when she realized none of them could hear her.  The leader of the soldiers was apparently someone the princes were close to, as she hugged them and she seemed to be speaking with affection.  Or rather, her voice was speaking with the affection that she felt, Rayla guessed.  Was this the legendary deaf general Runaan sometimes spoke of and Skor always warned them against engaging?

Of course she was stuck engaging with her now.  It was just her luck.

Rayla retreated into the rafters as she realized there were too many soldiers to sneak down in broad daylight, from the roof at least.  She’d have to find a back way out, probably from inside to avoid archers for the most part.

Almost as soon as she entered the building again she felt the wall nearest her shake, and the large wooden doors that had stood in it flew through the air it almost seemed, crashing down on the ground near the table in the front room.  Rayla froze where she was, heart pounding.  No wonder she’d been warned never to engage with the general directly, she thought faintly, as the General strode in without a battering ram or anything of the kind.  She’d just kicked the door off its hinges. 

Oh, this was bad.  She had to keep out of this woman’s notice.  At least it shouldn’t be too difficult?  She was deaf, so as long as Rayla kept the other soldiers from noticing her move around, and stayed out of sight, surely she wouldn’t pick up on anything.  Rayla stuck to the rafters as Ezran announced they hadn’t eaten yet, and the general got distracted with feeding them.  She had to find a better hiding place, though - if anyone bothered to look up, she was done for.

 

“Wait, how do you know the king is dead?” Aunt Amaya asked, frowning suddenly, leaning over the table towards them.  Gren folded his arms to convey her concern. “We don’t know for sure yet.  The last word we had from Harrow was that I needed to meet you two here at the Banther Lodge.  I got a letter from him.  It was definitely a risk, but I’ve had no news he was killed.”

Oh.  How could they explain?  Ezran looked at Callum, worried suddenly for their new elven friends.  The assassins’ bindings was how they knew, but that would take so much explaining.

“Oh, well,” Callum stammered, and then sighed, folding his hands in front of him and looking down.  Ezran frowned.  He knew this face.  This was Callum’s I don’t want to do this, but I think I have to face. “We knew Moonshadow assassins were coming, and . . . no one came out to take us to the Lodge.  We haven’t heard anything since we left, either.  He would have sent Pip, if . . . if he was okay.”

Ezran frowned as he continued trying to cut the bread on Aunt Amaya’s sword.  Callum was lying.  But he didn’t know any better how to say it.  He sniffled in spite of himself at the mention of his father’s death.

Because he was dead.  He was never going to see his dad again.

Aunt Amaya came around the table and folded him into a hug, and Ezran burrowed into her armored chest as best he could and wished it was his dad’s quilted shirt.  Her arms tightened around his shoulders and the tears finally broke free, and he gave a little sob against her, clinging back as she rocked in place.

Dad was gone.  Mom was gone.  And he didn’t even get to go home yet, he had to help the egg first.  Even once he did go home, he had to be king!  He wasn’t ready to be king yet!  He just wanted to steal jelly tarts and talk to the palace horses and - and -

The worst part about Aunt Amaya’s hugs was that she always had to pull away a little to talk to him.  Ezran twisted to curl his shoulder into her chest, so she could sign around his body for Gren to relay.  He could understand her signs, but it was harder to read them backwards from inside a hug.

“It’s going to be all right, Ezran.  We don’t know for sure yet if your father is dead, but even if he is, you will still have me.  I won’t let anything else happen to you or your brother.” Aunt Amaya assured him. “Moonshadow elves are the worst kind, but even they won’t be able to get past me, I promise.”

She said they were the worst, but it didn’t really comfort Ezran much.  He hid his face in her armor and frowned, eyes still leaking tears, conflicted on top of his grief.  He wanted to trust her, he did trust her, but - the way she talked about elves - when Callisto laughed at Callum’s stupid jokes, and Andromeda smiled at him and played shadow games as they walked, and Rayla talked to Callum about all the book stuff that Ezran didn’t understand yet, and even the menacing Runaan had carried Ezran readily on his shoulders when he got tired . . . how could they be so awful?

Notes:

This chapter ended up way longer than the others so I'm splitting it up a bit.

Chapter 6: The Banther Lodge (Part 2)

Summary:

Amaya catches Rayla, and the kids make their escape. Runaan faces down an enemy from his past.

After they ate, Aunt Amaya had to leave them alone to oversee fixing the doors she’d broken and set up for staying for a while.  Ezran and Callum were left on their own, and posted up in the floor by some benches where some toys had been left out last year.  Ezran didn’t feel much like playing, but he knew Bait needed enrichment, so he did his best to entertain the glow toad with the little wooden figures and some treats.

“This is bad.  Ram was right, we never should have come here.” Callum said anxiously, running a hand down his own face. 

“But we found Aunt Amaya,” Ezran pointed out. “Maybe we should tell her.” It bothered him to lie to her, especially since they’d told her the king was dead.  He really was!  And she didn’t believe them because they hadn’t told her how they knew!

Callum grimaced. “No, didn’t you hear how she talks about elves?  She would kill Rayla.”

“But if we just told her everything, from the beginning.  About the dragon egg, and Rayla, and the other elves . . .” Ezran protested. “Maybe she’d help us.”

“No, Ezran.  To Aunt Amaya, elves are monsters.  No, we have to figure out where Rayla is and get out of here.  We can’t tell her.” Callum said firmly, and though Ezran frowned at him, he got up to go covertly search for their new elven friend.

Ezran frowned at his back and then looked down at the toy in his hand, finally really processing what it was that he held.  It was one of the villainous toys of his early childhood, something meant to be scary and evil.  It was an elf, the depictions he’d been used to growing up, with large horns and fangs that stuck out past its chin, and large blades in each hand.  

Well, the large blades part was sometimes true, he conceded, thinking of Runaan.

So were the large horns.  Skor had really thick bases on his.

But they weren’t this . . . exaggerated.  This elf figurine was carved with nothing but a hatred that was almost funny . . . except that it wasn’t.  Was this how grown-ups really felt about elves?

What made elves so different than anyone else?

“I don’t know what to do, Bait.” He confessed to the glow toad, letting the toy fall into his lap.  Bait groaned sympathetically.  He didn’t know either. “But we have to help Rayla get out, I guess.” Another croak of agreement.  He picked the glow toad up. “Let’s go find Callum.”

They were able to find Callum pretty easily.  His brother wasn’t very good at hiding.  He really needed to take some lessons from the castle cats, in Ezran’s humble opinion.  If they ever got to go back to the castle, anyway.

“If you want to sneak around, we should use the dumbwaiters and the servant passages,” He said from behind Callum’s elbow, and had to flinch backwards to avoid being elbowed when his brother yelped and flailed.

“Ezran!  Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Callum whined, and then tilted his head at him. “You know, that’s a good idea though.  I don’t think I can fit in the dumbwaiters anymore, but the servant passages are a good start.  Let’s go.”

“Vents are good too, but the Lodge doesn’t have any of those.” Ezran said, trotting ahead of him to point out the nearest servants’ entrance in the kitchen. “Dad said it was because it’s too cold here, but I think it’s just because it’s made of wood, not stones.  Vents get really warm and wood might burn.”

“That makes sense.” Callum agreed as they entered the passage. “So, does this lead outside?”

“It should!  They need a place to dump all the dirty water from the kitchen, and we don’t want that walking where everyone else does in case someone trips.” Ezran explained confidently, and sure enough, they found a small door leading outside in the back of the lodge. “So now we just have to get Rayla down here.”

A crash echoed from upstairs in the game room and they exchanged glances. “Oh, no.” Callum muttered.

“Do you think-?”

“Aunt Amaya found Rayla.” Callum said, gripping his shoulder as they both looked up at the ceiling. “Look, Ez, we need to stay hidden.  If Aunt Amaya finds us missing, she’ll keep Rayla alive for questioning.  Then we can get her out while they’re distracted looking for us.” He crouched in front of Ezran. “I’m kinda depending on you here buddy, you know how to sneak around this place better than anybody.  We need to find Rayla and get her out without anyone figuring out where we are.”

Ezran nodded with determination. “We have to stick to the secret passages.  The soldiers aren’t using them because they don’t know them like the servants do, so we should be okay, but there’s some supply closets we can hide in if we hear someone coming.  That’s the cool thing about all the soldiers’ armor, they make so much noise when they move.”

“That’s true.” Callum grinned back at him and they slipped back into the passageway. “Okay.  So the noise has stopped.  Sounds like they have Rayla upstairs.  Is there a secret passageway up there?”

“Not really?  There’s the dumbwaiters to get down though.  I don’t think they’ll keep Rayla up there if they’re trying to trap her though.  You know what Aunt Amaya always says about high ground.” Ezran said practically. “Never give up the high ground!  It’s easier to defend!  So they’re going to take her down.  Probably to the basement.  There’s another dumbwaiter that goes down there.”

Callum made an impatient noise. “I don’t think the high ground concept applies to inside the lodge, Ezran.  There’s walls everywhere.  It’s already defensible because there’s limited entry and exit points.”

They peeked around a corner together and sure enough, Aunt Amaya was carrying Rayla down the stairs from the game room.  The elf was completely limp in her hand, but she didn’t seem too hurt, just like she was sleeping.  Aunt Amaya was carrying her by the back of her shirt like a kitten, and it would have been almost cute if she didn’t look so furious, like she was going to throw Rayla the second she got an excuse.  Gren was at her heel.

Aunt Amaya shoved Rayla at two of the other guards, and they had to scramble to catch her before she fell to the floor.  She signed furiously at them. “Take the elf to the basement and tie her up securely.  I need to find my nephews.”

As those two guards obeyed, Aunt Amaya turned to the other soldiers nearest to her. “Why wasn’t anyone watching the boys?  We knew they were sent here because of a threat of assassination!”

“They’re going to the basement.” Ezran said, pulling back into the secret passageway, deciding he didn’t need to hear Aunt Amaya scold the soldiers for letting them sneak off.

“Great.  There’s only one way into the basement.” Callum said, retreating with him, and flopping onto the floor at his side. “How are we going to get in and out of there without the guards stopping us?”

Ezran rolled his eyes. “There’s more than one way in there.  The dumbwaiter, Callum.”

“I can’t fit in the dumbwaiter, Ez!  And Rayla’s taller than me!” Callum pointed out. “There’s no way that’s an option.  Only Bait could fit through there - honestly bud, I don’t even think you would anymore, and it would be hard to pull you back up.”

Ezran frowned at him, but the mention of Bait gave him an idea. “I’ve got it.  If they’re going to tie Rayla up down there, we can send Bait.  He can flash the guards, and then she can get herself free and come upstairs to meet us.  Then we can all get out together.” He frowned again. “That does mean she has to be awake though.”

Callum frowned back at him. “Ezran, I don’t know if that’ll work,” He said hesitantly. “I mean, she’s a badass elven assassin and all that.  And we’re going to send a toad to help her instead of just, you know, helping her?  Maybe I can figure something out with this primal stone thing.”

Ezran scowled at him. “You can’t solve everything with magic, Callum.  It worked on Rayla!  The flash trick always works!  We just have to hide and wait until Rayla wakes up.  I just don’t know how we’ll know when she wakes up.”

Callum gave him one of those stubborn looks but then sighed. “Aunt Amaya will probably go see her for questioning when she wakes up.  All  we have to do is keep an eye on the stairs to the basement, and we’ll hear something.  But that means we have to somehow stay in one place and not get noticed for long enough that we find out, and Rayla could be out for hours!  You know Aunt Amaya doesn’t pull punches.”

“No she does not.” Ezran agreed, shivering at the memory of the time Aunt Amaya had broken Soren’s nose and knocked him out for a whole day.  Viren had been really mad about that.  Soren had forgiven her as soon as he woke up though. “Don’t worry though, there’s a closet right next to it with our sleds and stuff in it.  No one will look there this time of year.  We can hide in there.”

“Sounds like as good a plan as any.” Callum admitted, and followed him.

 

Honestly, Rayla hadn’t fully expected to wake up at all.  Runaan had told stories of the deaf general’s ferocity in battle, and her brutality when it came to skirmishes like this.  Skor didn’t talk much about what specifically had happened, but everyone knew he’d lost his voice in a battle with her years ago.  He’d warned them all never, ever to get captured by her.

Aaaand now here she was.  She’d fought with the general and then also been captured by her, exactly like they always warned her not to do.  She struggled in the ropes, testing to see if she could slip out of them.  They weren’t manacles, so all she needed was something sharp or a little time to use her teeth-

The general didn’t quite stomp on the floor, but her heavy metal boots seemed to echo in the room when she approached, looming over Rayla where she was bound on the floor. “How did you do it?” She asked, her hand movements sharp, her voice’s tone hard as steel.

“How did we do what?” Rayla tried to feign ignorance, doubting it would do her much good - but she had to at least try. 

The general’s face stayed hard and distant, but her voice’s brows furrowed to her left. “We?  How many of you are there?”

Oh, no.  Shouldn’t have said that. Rayla looked away as she tried to come up with an excuse. “Did I say we?” She tried to play it off.

The gauntleted hand came down on her jaw so hard it felt like a slap, and the general dug her fingers into Rayla’s jaw to force her to meet her eyes. 

“Don’t.  Look away from me.”

The voice may have been coming from the man behind her, but there was no mistaking the tone was the general’s with the nasty snarl on her face.  The signs were clear enough without him.

“It’s just me.” Rayla lied. “I’m alone.”

She knew the moment she said it that the general didn’t believe her, and the sign for “Liar,” was close enough to shadow sign to pick up even without her voice speaking it for her.  No further violence followed it up though, with the general just standing up again and turning to her soldiers. “If there are more of them the princes are in danger.  Do not take your eyes off her.” She ordered, and stalked out.

Rayla glowered after her, Skor’s warnings about her lighting her blood with prickles of anxiety.  She’d been knocked out and taken to a secondary location, and then just left here?  This didn’t bode well for her next meeting with the general.  She likely wouldn’t survive it if she didn’t get out of here.

She turned her attention to the other two guards.  The woman stood tall and professional, but the man was holding her butterfly blades and began to fiddle with them.  She opted not to warn him about the mechanism that converted them before he accidentally flipped them open and nearly dropped them, tossing them in the air and having to scramble to catch them.

“Careful with those,” She warned sarcastically only then. “Wouldn’t want to lose a finger.” She put out her smallest fingers to illustrate the point, and sneered at them, “I mean, can ye imagine goin’ through life with only four fingers?” She wiggled her four fingered hands at them spitefully.

The guards exchanged glances, clearly unsure if she was serious and blaming her own blades for cutting her fingers off.  Moon help them.  Humans really didn’t know anything , did they?

The opening behind them started to creak, and she frowned at it.  The guards didn’t take their eyes off her, at first, though they both twitched in answer to the noise.  What was it?

She understood the concept of a dumbwaiter the moment she saw the platform begin to be lowered, and understood the assignment when she saw Bait.  The human princes had actually come to help her, even though the other assassins couldn’t get in. “Have you met Bait?” She asked innocently. “Say hello to my little friend.” She ducked her head to the side and squinted her eyes shut to avoid the flash, and she still saw the light burst from behind her eyelids.

The guards dissolved into a mad scramble of clanking metal and drawn swords.  Rayla yanked her ropes as far as she could, and only sort of planned her escape, just dodging the blinded guards and kicking them away from her until the man lodged her own butterfly blades into the pole she was tied to.  She cut herself free and looked around, realizing both guards had somehow knocked their heads into things and were lying at least dazed on the floor, not moving, and plucked her blades from the pole.

“Thanks,” She told them brightly, and started to dart free of the room.  She heard the low groan behind her just in time and bolted back to get Bait and run before the guards could recover.

The princes met her on the stairs. “Come on!” She barked at them, barely slowing down as she ran past them to get upstairs and outside.  There was no time for stealth here, they had to just run.  If they got outside, the other assassins could step in.

Runaan wouldn’t leave her here if there was any chance of escape.  He just wouldn’t.

They made it all the way out the door of the lodge and almost to the water’s edge before they were surrounded.  More guards she hadn’t expected approached over the bridge, and Rayla turned to double back.  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of white hair and silver ribbon and then Runaan burst from the trees with his swords in hand, blocking the soldiers from pursuing.

“Get to the water’s edge!” He barked. “Do not stop!”

“Don’t hurt them!” Callum protested, and Rayla didn’t know who to listen to for a moment - she couldn’t go through the soldiers, there were too many to fight without deadly force, but -

They were hemmed in during her moment of frozen indecision.  Runaan clicked his swords back together into a bow and aimed coldly back at the general where her archers aimed at the elves. 

“Stop right there, elf.” the general’s voice barked as she came to stand in front of her archers.  Her focus zeroed in on Runaan. “I knew there were more of you.”

Runaan’s eyes flicked to Rayla and she cringed a little from the flinty look, but all he said was a cool, “Just the one.” as he turned his attention back to the general. “Greetings, General Amaya.”

“Callum, Ezran, come here.” The general ordered.

“Rayla, stay low.” Runaan ordered in the same tone, and Rayla glanced at him in confusion, wondering why he’d thought she needed the instruction.

“You know who I am.” The general said, narrowing her eyes at Runaan.

He shrugged without lowering his bow. “I’d be a poor assassin if I didn’t.  And you and I have met before, though it was years ago.  I would be terribly surprised if you remember a single survivor who escaped your wrath.”

“You’re right.” The general replied bluntly. “I don’t.”

For a moment, everyone stayed frozen where they were.  Rayla panted, unsure quite what to do.  Were the other assassins coming?  Would they take the chance of having to fight their way out?  If they had to, what would the princes think of them, because she knew the others wouldn’t restrain themselves from lethal force.

“Callum, we should just tell her,” Ezran urged from behind her. 

“Boys, get away from them.” The general’s voice was sterner now, her hands jerkier.  She was getting impatient.

“Wait!” Callum called out. 

“Do not escalate this, boy!” Runaan snapped, and Rayla glanced over in time to see Callum freeze.

The general scowled. “So this is why the children knew King Harrow was dead.  You’ve killed the king, and now you’ve come for his sons.” She growled fiercely, attention on Runaan. 

“You lost track of those boys for hours today,” Runaan sneered over his drawn bow. “And you didn’t even know I was here.  Believe me, general, if I wanted those children dead, they would be dead .  From where I’m standing, the only one pointing arrows at children is you .”

“Do you expect me to believe that elf came into the lodge with good intentions?” The general demanded. “You were trying to kill -” Her signs didn’t slow but her voice stumbled briefly over the words, sounding surprised. “My nephews!”

“That is a rich accusation from the woman trying to kill my daughter,” Runaan replied sharply, taking a single step closer to Rayla.

Rayla’s back straightened reflexively and she looked over at him in shock.

“You brought your own child on an assassination?  I shouldn’t be surprised.  Even your allies on the border call your people savages.” The general sneered.

Rayla flinched at the censure. “We’re not savages,” She protested.

“We’re aware of the stories.  Sunfire elves pride themselves in their light - and are blinded by it.” Runaan replied evenly. “But no, general.  Consider how long it would have taken us to travel here.  We did not kill your king.  We couldn’t have .  Which means you were betrayed from within.”

The general narrowed her eyes. “You’re lying to me.”

Runaan scoffed. “I cannot lie about geography .”

“I’ll make you a deal, elf.” The general said, coldly. “Lower your bow.  I’ll have my men lower theirs.  You let my nephews go, and I’ll allow you and your daughter to leave with your lives.  Just this once.”

Ohh, this was bad.  Rayla’s mind raced.  Maybe if Ezran gave them the egg, they could run it to Xadia?  But the whole plan fell apart without the princes to return the egg to the Dragon Queen.  They’d have to come back for them, and that was if she could even communicate to Ezran that he needed to leave the egg before -

“It’s a pretty promise, General, but I know how you treat your promises.” Runaan said. “I will not make the mistake of trusting you twice.”

“You’re a monster.” She hissed.

“No,” Runaan said blandly. “I’m a pragmatist.  You were betrayed from within, General Amaya.  If your nephews return to Katolis, they will meet the same fate as the king, but know that they will come to no harm as long as they are under my care.”

“I don’t believe you.” The general replied bluntly. “You’re stalling.  Search the trees, there will be more of them.”

“Search then,” Runaan scoffed, arrogantly. “I have nothing to hide.”

The general’s lip curled and she signaled to her archers. “Do it, take them out.”

The archers loosed their arrows and Runaan swore as Rayla cried out.  He broke his bow into its separate blades to fend off the arrows aimed at him, and Rayla brandished her own butterfly blades.  There were just too many arrows, and as she ducked she felt them slicing through her hair.

Runaan lunged in front of her and engaged the humans between them and the riverbank, clearing a path. “Get to the river!” He barked. “Go!”

Rayla and the princes obeyed, bolting through the path he had cut through the guards - none dead, she was surprised to note as they sped past, though one missing an arm and bleeding heavily enough he might be soon.  She skidded to a stop only a few steps later, heart pounding, as she realized the princes were heading for a boat and Runaan was still engaged in a fight behind them.  If they left, he’d be alone to face the entire company of soldiers.

“I don’t think-” She started.

“Rayla, go!” Runaan roared when she looked back for him.  He skidded down the stairs towards her and rammed his shoulder into her side, throwing her towards the water. “Run!”

“What about you?” She protested. 

“Do as I tell you for once in your life, Rayla!” Runaan snarled as she scrambled to her feet, and then he flinched as an arrow embedded itself in his shoulder guard.  She knew it wasn’t deep enough to harm him, but if he collected too many they would slow him down.

“Dad-” She started.

“I said run!” Runaan blocked another arrow with his gauntleted wrist and she bolted, a sob building in her chest though her eyes were stubbornly dry in the panic.

She leaped into the boat and her weight knocked it out into moving water.  Her stomach heaved for more than one reason as she looked back to see Runaan still holding the line at the riverbank.

“Get down!” Callum pushed her. “Or they’ll shoot you over the edge of the boat!”

“We can’t just leave him!” She protested wildly. 

“We have to survive, and he told us to go, so I’m going.” Callum said stubbornly. “And he wants you alive too, so get down!”

She flattened on the bottom of the boat with the sob finally making it out of her chest. “They’re goin’ to kill him.”

“I -” Callum broke off. “I’m sorry, Rayla.”

Ezran crawled over and grasped her hand under the bench of the boat, as they passed under the bridge and rapidly drew out of arrow range. “I didn’t know he was your dad.” He said quietly, his little eyes wet. “I’m sorry.”

Rayla curled up a little bit towards the boy as her eyes finally began to leak. “I didn’t - he’s . . . he’s not my birth father.  I just . . .”

“King Harrow wasn’t my birth father either.” Callum said like a confession. “We get it.  I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Rayla.  I hope he makes it out.”

He wouldn’t.  She knew he wouldn’t.

What would the others think now that she’d gotten their leader - her own father, mentor, and guardian - killed?

Notes:

I'm gonna be more merciful to you all than to Rayla and assure you Runaan will be fine right away.

Chapter 7: Aftermath

Summary:

Runaan makes it out alive, and he and Rayla have a confrontation. The next morning, Callisto gets himself drafted for an unexpected task.

Hours down the river, when Rayla and Ezran had both cried themselves out, Callum brought her back from her fitful daze with a gentle nudge to her shoulder. “I’m going to take us to the bank.  I see Andromeda.”

She curled tighter in on herself, shaking at the idea of telling Andromeda what had happened, for a moment before forcing herself to sit up. “Okay.” She rasped.  Ezran handed her a cup of water, and she reluctantly took a sip of it as Callum steered the boat in.

“I’m glad you’re all safe,” Andromeda rushed out before she could say anything, helping to pull the boat ashore enough that it wouldn’t drift away.  The older woman helped Callum and Ezran out of the boat, and offered Rayla a hand too, but Rayla cringed, unsure if she would be offering once she knew the truth.

“We’re not all safe.” She admitted dejectedly. “Runaan . . .”

“He’s fine, Rayla.”Andromeda said gently, still holding out her hand. “He made it across the river and made a run for it.  We covered his escape.  That’s why it took us all so long to find you.”

Rayla stared up at her for a moment, and took the offered hand still trembling with disbelief. “Really?”

“They’ll be catching up any moment.” Andromeda promised. “Callisto made him stop to put a bandage on his leg.  He’s not hurt seriously, but he was bleeding enough we needed to cover it up before it left a trail to follow.”

“Rayla, that’s amazing,” Callum said, hugging her briefly while she was still too shocked to move. “Sorry, was that too much?  That was probably too much.”

A faint rustle was all the announcement they had before the other assassins materialized from the treeline.  Ram led the way, and even he looked relieved to see them. “Good to know you’re in one piece.” He said gruffly and went to stand with Andromeda. 

“At least one of you is.” Callisto grouched as they came to a rest nearby, leaning on a tree with a glower to their right.  Skor crouched beside them without a word, but with a surprisingly soft look to Rayla.

She dared to follow Callisto’s gaze and her heart jumped to her throat when she saw Runaan.  He looked - furious.  And worried.  But mostly furious.

“You’re alive,” She blurted without thinking, relieved to see him even if he still had an arrow stuck in his shoulder pauldron and looked ready to kill someone.  Possibly had killed someone, in escaping.

“Yes,” He said roughly. “Of course I am alive, because I know how to make a tactical retreat, which is apparently a skill I have failed to pass on!  You could have been killed back there, Rayla!” He spat at her feet. “When I tell you to run, you run !  Do not ever freeze like that!”

Rayla flinched at the force of his words but glared up at him defiantly. “I couldn’t just leave you there!  I thought they were gonna kill you!”

“Then so be it!” Runaan cried. “My life is not your concern!”

“We’re a team!” She protested. “We’re all supposed to depend on each other!  I know I haven’t been the best teammate since we arrived in Katolis, but I -”

“My life doesn’t matter!” Runaan hissed. “We depend upon each other for the sake of the mission , Rayla.  Your role as a member of this team is to do as you’re told , and keep that egg alive.  My life is never your responsibility, not as your leader, not as your teacher, not as your guardian, and certainly not as your father.”

They both froze for a moment when the word slipped out, and Rayla caught herself hugging her own arms as she stared up at his face, seeing the cracks of fear and worry through his fury.  She clutched her own elbow. “I just . . . didn’t want to lose you too.” She confessed, and it came out sounding like a whimper.

Runaan’s tense shoulders dropped a little, and he took a ragged breath, and she realized his chest was heaving with anxiety. “What do you think your other father would do to me if I came home without you, Rayla?” He asked, more gently than before. 

Somehow, she knew he wasn’t talking about her birth father.  Rayla reached up to touch the braid Ethari had put in her hair for comfort, and winced as she remembered it had been shot off. “You?” She asked weakly. “What do you think he’d do if I came back without you?”

Runaan’s face cracked again and he sighed, rubbing the tattoos over his nose. “If I told you to go?  Grieve, Rayla.  He would grieve with you.  He knew when he married me that he would outlive me, given he’s a mage potentially by centuries.  We . . . didn’t know when we took you in what path you would take.  It’s been - difficult for him, knowing he would lose you too.  If he lost you first . . .” He trailed off, eyes dropping to the reeds on the riverbank, and he heaved a heavy breath. 

Rayla rubbed her arms against the growing cold, aware of the other assassins looking on in silence.  Andromeda shushed the human princes. “I’m sorry.” She said in a small voice.

“Don’t apologize , Rayla.  Do better.” Runaan said firmly, and then the last of his composure cracked as he met her eyes again, shoulders dropping. “You lost your braid.” He observed softly. 

She nodded, self-consciously touching the missing lock of hair. “The arrows must’ve cut it.  The tie’s gone, and the rest of it just . . . fell free.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “Do you think he’ll be upset?”

Runaan blinked at her for a moment and then sighed deeply, stepping closer to her. “For having a part of you cut away without your consent?  No, Rayla.  Not with you.” He reached out as if to touch her and paused, and she met his eyes, desperate for his reassurance.

The look she gave him seemed to work, as he tucked her torn hair behind her ear. “Do you want me to braid the other side?” He offered softly.

Startled by the suggestion, Rayla’s eyes widened.  She heard Skor cough as if surprised, off to the side, but couldn’t tear her gaze away to look at him. “Yeah,” she said hesitantly. “Please.  I’d . . . I’d like that.”

“At camp.” He promised. “Rayla . . .” He sighed slowly. “This mission is too far from any plan to even pretend we are keeping a professional distance anymore.” That statement seemed directed partially aside, as he raised his voice for it and shot a glance towards the other assassins.  None of them said a word.  He looked back down at Rayla and his brows furrowed. “Above everything, Rayla, please remember that Ethari and I love you more than anything in this world.” He said roughly. “So next time, when I tell you to flee, please, trust me to take care of myself.  I am not your responsibility - you are mine.”

Rayla shrank in on herself, hating the idea of leaving him behind, of letting him risk his life if she thought she could help.  But he looked so afraid and tired that any protests she had died in her throat. “Okay.” She whispered reluctantly.

“Thank you, little blade.” Runaan said softly, and tentatively opened his arms.

Rayla saw the invitation for what it was and took a halting step closer before just giving in.  She hugged him tightly around the ribs and shivered as his arms - warm from exertion - wrapped around her to crush her tight to his chest.  Safe.  Alive.  She held on tight enough to hear his heartbeat and took a shaky breath before he slowly released her and she reluctantly backed away. 

“Runaan,” Andromeda interrupted politely, softly. “The general won’t bring the whole company after us when she thinks the children are at risk.  They’re exhausted, we won’t make it far if we try to travel.  We’ve already crossed the river and put miles between us and the trail.  We should just camp here.”

Runaan looked back upriver, where any trace of the human lodge was long out of sight, and nodded. “Very well.  Pitch the tents.  No fire tonight, we can’t risk it.”

She nodded, and she, Ram, and Skor began making camp just under the shelter of the trees.  Callisto approached Runaan with a severe tilt to their black brows. “Don’t think that little display gets ye out of medical treatment.” They said flatly to Runaan. “Let me have another look at that bloody leg.”

Runaan sighed. “A man can hope.” He said very dryly as he was urged to sit down.

“A man can also be wrong.” Callisto knelt beside his leg and gave his knee a shove that made him wince. “About many things, as a matter of fact.”

Rayla giggled wetly, but was distracted from the other elves’ conversation by a tug on her jacket.  She looked down at Ezran and was surprised to see the boy’s big gray eyes still wet and red-rimmed, but he was smiling weakly at her. “I’m glad your dad is okay.” he said quietly.

Reminded abruptly that she’d spent an hour cuddling him while in tears about their respective fathers - who had died - Rayla fell to her knees automatically to get on his level, and hugged the boy. “Thank you, Ezran.  And I’m so, so sorry about your dad.” She said sincerely, and hugged him tighter when the boy sniffled into her shoulder. 

“Thanks, Rayla.  I’m glad you’re alive, too.” He said earnestly without pulling away.

“We both are.” Callum agreed, putting an arm around Ezran’s shoulder and resting his hand on Rayla’s, sandwiching his brother between them. “And . . . thanks for going in there with me.”

Rayla swallowed hard and leaned her head over tentatively to brush his hair with her horns, since her hands were pinned to his brother’s back. “Yeah.  You’ve got the cube thing, still?”

“Yeah.” Callum pulled away enough to dig in his pocket and pull it out, holding it out to show her.  She blinked as the moon rune began to glow with its proximity to her. “Wait, is it glowing?  It’s never done that before.”

“It’s the moon rune,” She said dumbly. “So . . .”

Callum dug in his other pocket and pulled out the sky primal stone, holding those close together, and the sky rune began to glow. “So it is magical!” He said delightedly. “It glows when it gets near magic from the primal sources!”

“So it’s a glow toy.” Rayla said, heart sinking.

“All that risk for a toy?” Ram asked in disbelief.

“We still don’t know what it is.” Callisto disagreed, eyeing the cube warily from where they were busy with Runaan’s leg.

Runaan sighed. “But it is clearly magical, so ideally, it will return to Xadia and stay there.  And, though it wasn’t planned, I’ve planted a seed of doubt in the general’s mind about the king’s death.  It certainly could have gone better, but we haven’t lost everything just yet.  Ow.  Was that necessary, Callisto?”

“Yes,” the healer said unrepentantly. “I needed ta know it still hurts.”

“You could have just asked.”

“I like an honest reaction.” 

Rayla laughed in spite of herself at the comforting sound of their bickering, and she gave Ezran what she hoped was a reassuring smile when he finally pulled away enough to look at her.  He smiled back. 

“Rayla,” Runaan called softly, and she looked up to see Callisto leaving him to go pitch their tent. “Come here, little blade.  Let me fix your hair.” 

She left the princes with a last touch to each of their arms and came to sit on the ground in front of her father.  Runaan touched her hair gently at first, ran his fingers through it to make sure it was still behaving.  Elven hair didn’t need all the brushing that humans’ did, and it was more of a comfort than a necessity.

He drew the same amount of hair from her left side as Ethari had on her right, and began to braid it for her with a meditative sort of focus.  Rayla kept her hands folded in her lap and her head still for him, shivering internally at the warmth and affection in his touch and the way he looked at her.  This meant far more to her than the hug she knew had made more sense to her new human friends.  

Runaan tied her braid off with a bit of ribbon from his own packs. “There.” He said softly. “Now you carry our affection with you once again.”

“I always do.” Rayla said, meeting his eyes, and smiling weakly when he nodded to the statement.  She touched the braid as he glanced over the rest of their camp, where the other assassins had finished erecting their tents and Andromeda had ushered the princes into hers.  She closed her eyes briefly and just held it, feeling the warmth of the ribbon from the hands that had placed it there, and tucked it protectively behind her ear.  She would not lose this one.

 

The next morning came too soon, in Skor’s opinion.  He hadn’t even had to fight her, but he was exhausted.  For all he’d wanted Rayla gone when she first betrayed them, he would have done it quickly - he didn’t wish the fate General Amaya inflicted upon her prisoners on anyone.  Especially not one so young, who had such a kind heart.  He’d thought for certain they were about to lose Runaan too until their leader had turned and simply fled into the river.  The archers couldn’t see him under the water’s surface well enough to fire on him successfully, though he had coughed up water for a concerning amount of time once he dragged himself to shore a mile down its flow.

Fleeing from the general, making sure to cover their tracks so that she could not track them, had been exhausting.  Skor’s hands still shook as he cleaned his swords unnecessarily in favor of doing nothing once he packed his tent.  That had been far too close for comfort. 

“Well, we’re back on foot from here.” Rayla said a little too brightly as the others began to wrap up their own packing.

“Now hold on, Rayla.” Callisto leaned on his - it was his, today, Skor thought, by the tilt of his ears and the set of his shoulders when he got up - glaive and nodded towards the river. “The rest of us were able to keep up with the boat on foot, but the princes can’t travel that fast on their own.  We did lose time at the Lodge, and if the princes - and a guard or two - go in the boat, we could make some of it up.  I dunno about the rest of you, but I’m startin’ to feel this.” He flexed his left wrist with the binding tightening around it.

Skor’s own twinged when he sheathed his swords.  He imagined the others weren’t any better off as he looked up.  Ram would be fine, he was right-handed and used one handed weapons anyway.  Runaan’s bow would be useless before long, though, and the rest of them were dual wielders, save for Callisto’s two-handed glaive.  It placed him at a disadvantage.

“The boat’s not big enough for all of us.” Rayla protested weakly, but even she seemed to see where this was going.

“We could keep up on the bank.” Runaan mused, and tapped his gauntlet thoughtfully. “It would put them in the open.”

Callisto tilted his head to concede the point. “Aye.  But we’re on a time crunch.” He straightened up with a sigh, still letting his glaive rest to his side. “We’re not gonna make it to the Storm Spire in time for us.  Full stop.  We know that.  We’re three days in - we’ve got another three or four before we can’t use our hands, maybe another week after that before we lose them entirely.  We won’t make the full trip, but if we push, we might make it to the Xadian border, and I personally would rather get there, where we don’t have to hide every step, before I have to deal with six amputations.”

It was a fair point.  Skor twitched his ears, noticing the tired lines in their healer’s practical face.  Leaving five hands and an arm behind in human lands seemed like a recipe for disaster on many levels - their own reduced functionality combined with leaving so much behind that a dark mage might be able to use.  Bad enough that Rayla had lost hair in their territory.

“Who do you suggest?” Runaan said in answer. “You have someone in mind.”

“Rayla.”

“What?” Rayla squawked. “Why me?”

Callisto raised his eyebrows at her. 

“I’d like to know, too.” Ram piped up, raising his own eyebrows back at Callisto when they all looked at him. “Every time we’ve sent Rayla to do anything by herself since we came to Katolis, something has happened to endanger the rest of us.  Why do we keep trusting her with these things?”

Runaan bared his fangs at the younger man and Skor grunted with surprise, shifting further away from their leader.  For all he’d wanted Runaan to be fucking honest with them about his love for Rayla, he hadn’t anticipated the man to revert to feral fatherhood once the dam was broken. “What happened at the Lodge would have happened regardless of who we sent.” He said sharply.

Callisto cleared his throat. “Because there’s limited space in the boat, and Runaan is right, it leaves the passengers open to observers on the bank, so between that and the bum leg I do not want him getting wet , he’s out of the question.  Besides that, we can’t overlook her physical skill if something does happen.  And the princes trust her more than the rest of us, which, if we’re all being honest, is fair.”

Rayla pouted at them when they all looked at her, and Skor was forcibly reminded of her sour face the very first time she’d come to training and Runaan had needed to fish her out of the itching nettles.

She was so young .  They all were.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Callum said brightly. “The river goes way faster than we ever could on foot.  I mean look at those legs.” He gestured at his brother.

Ezran looked down at his own legs. “I have nice legs!” he defended, and Callisto actually laughed.  Skor caught himself smiling softly at the sound and covered his own mouth, closing his eyes to let it soothe his frazzled nerves.

He really hadn’t slept well even when he wasn’t on watch.  The more space they could put between themselves and General Amaya the better he would rest.

“But I . . .” Rayla looked between them helplessly and folded her arms. “Ram and Andromeda are almost as light as me, and they like Andromeda!  Why can’t she do it?”

Prince Callum tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, and a slow smile spread across his face. “Is there maybe another reason you don’t want to take the boat?” He asked, almost too innocently.

“No, there’s no special reason.” Rayla said too quickly, and Skor almost snorted.  Andromeda shot her friend a pitying look. 

Callum smiled wider. “So wait, are you like this . . . back-flippin’, tree climbin’, sword-stabbin’ elven warrior . . . and scared of a little splish-splashin’?”

Callisto muffled a laugh behind his hand, and Skor’s smile remained hidden behind the one he hadn’t taken off his own mouth.

Rayla’s ears flushed and she opened and shut her mouth, not quite able to deny it, pointing at the prince warningly.

“Aww, that’s cute!” the younger prince cooed at her, and Skor’s shoulders shook with mirth as the other elves all tried their hardest not to laugh or coo too openly at the children.

“Fine!” Rayla barked, and stomped towards the water. “I’ll go in the stupid boat!”

“We will be right on the bank if you need us.” Runaan said gently, though a smile was tugging at even his lips. “You’ll be all right, Rayla.”

“I’m fine!” She sat down abruptly in it with a scowl, and looked around. “But just for the record, there’s room for one more.” She added after the princes joined her.

Prince Callum slumped after looking around for a minute. “We lost the oar last night.  It’s gone.”

“Well, that settles it,” Runaan said, smiling a little wider as he rose from his patient crouch. “Callisto, you’re joining them.”

Callisto blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Your glaive is the longest tool we have,” Runaan said patiently. “You can control the boat by using it as a pole on the riverbed, and you are right that we should make up whatever time we can using the water.  So.  Off you go.”

Rayla looked a little vindictively smug about it. “What’s wrong, Callisto?” She asked innocently.

Callisto glanced from father to daughter and then scowled at Runaan. “I hate that you’re right.” They said flatly. “If you start bleeding again under that bandage, stop and fix it.  Fine, I’ll join them.”

Callisto, alone on a boat with a small child and two teenagers?  Skor would be hearing about this one later, he was certain.  He cracked an encouraging smile when the healer looked at him, though, and was sure his ears were pricked with amusement when Callisto just wrinkled his nose before joining the children in the boat.

“I’m fine.  At least I’m in the boat.” Rayla said. 

“We’re still aground.” Callisto replied blandly, and twirled his glaive.  The bladed ends were folded in so it was just the end of a staff he pushed into the bank to shove off, and Rayla immediately clutched to the side of the boat.

“Turn the boat to shore at dusk or when the river changes course,” Runaan ordered. “We will meet you on the bank.  We won’t be far, if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine, Runaan.” Callisto said, and then added, more kindly, “I’ll keep her safe, my friend.”

“I know you will.  I won’t be far.  We will see you at nightfall or when the river turns.” Runaan raised a hand in farewell and began to move as Callisto guided the boat further from shore. 

“Good luck,” Andromeda singsonged at Callisto, all too amused at his predicament.

“Shut up,” Callisto singsonged back, and Skor shook his head with a little smile as they began to move out of easy earshot of each other.  

He stayed on Runaan’s heels, for his own part, keeping an eye on their leader’s bandaged leg.  In a good bandage it was possible Runaan wouldn’t notice if it started to bleed again, but Callisto was right about needing to cover their tracks. “We should step in the water when we can.” He said roughly to Runaan’s back. “Keep our scent faint.  They’ll have hounds.”

“Agreed.  But traveling on solid ground will be faster.  We will have to alternate.” Runaan said, and called out the instructions to Andromeda and Ram.  For now, they just ran, drawing a little ahead of the boat.  Skor had no real objections.  Right now, distance was the most important thing.

Chapter 8: The River

Summary:

Callisto has an unexpected therapy session that turns into a really bad day.

Guiding a little boat down the river was, Callisto discovered, boring.  Even in a boat surrounded by children, because the princes appeared to be also bored, and getting sleepy quickly under the gentle movements of the boat, and Rayla was too ill to talk.  He felt a bit sorry for her, but not as much as she’d probably appreciate.  The little toad crawled up next to him at the back of the boat, and dipped its tail in the water.  Callisto let it with just an idle glance to make sure he wasn’t about to bump it.

“Bait, you know you’re not supposed to do that,” Prince Ezran said firmly when he noticed, plucking the toad off the edge of the boat beside Callisto’s arm, and putting it back on the bench beside him. “No playing in the water!” He shook his little finger at the creature and Callisto almost cracked a smile from how cute it was.

What?  He preferred to keep his distance from being responsible for children but he always thought they were cute.  Rayla was still adorable.

“Bait loves the water,” the older prince explained to Rayla with a grin. “But he should be afraid of it.  You wanna know why he’s named Bait?”

Rayla groaned with discomfort as she sat up and glowered at him. “Not really.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

Callisto snorted.

“It’s kind of a sick joke I guess.  Glow toads?  They’re apparently delicious .” The boy dropped his voice to a whisper as if to keep it a secret, but Callisto had no trouble hearing him, and the idea of eating a toad made him wrinkle his nose at the same time as Rayla grimaced.

“Gross.” She voiced what they were both thinking.

“Deep-sea fishermen use them to catch giant fish, stuff like that,” Callum continued anyway. “That’s why he’s named Bait.” He cackled. “Get it?  That’s my stepdad’s sense of humor.  Or.  It was.” He cleared his throat. 

Callisto was distracted from the rest of what he said by the scowl on Prince Ezran’s face when the little boy stood up. “Guys, he doesn’t know how delicious he is, so shush!” He scolded.

The toad grumbled and looked up at him curiously, as if asking what he was on about, and Callisto laughed under his breath, adjusting his glaive, currently in use as a rudder for the boat that was being pushed quite efficiently downstream by the water’s current.

The older children kept talking after that, with Callum beginning to ask Rayla questions about Xadia, but Ezran sat down in the floor of the boat nearer to Callisto and the toad. “Do you like animals?” 

It took a beat for Callisto to realize he was being addressed, and he blinked down at the child.  He supposed he couldn’t expect the everything about him to fend off a human child’s attention like it did other elves. “Me?” when the boy nodded, he attempted to give an honest answer. “I suppose so.  They’re like people.  I don’t mind most of them, but I don’t seek them out.  There’s a few I like, a few I avoid.  Why?”

“Animals are good judges of character.” The boy said simply, and played with one of his toad’s hands. “And Bait wanted to know.”

“Right.” Sure, Bait did.  Callisto didn’t call the boy out on it. “Ye can tell your toad he’s got nothin’ to worry about - I’m vegetarian.  Most Moonshadow are.”

“How come you have sharp teeth if you’re vegetarian?” Ezran asked curiously, tilting his head.

“Have you ever tried to bite through the skin of a Xadian fruit?” Callisto asked with a chuckle. “That’s what those are for.  And threat displays.” He bared his fangs to demonstrate, and it just prompted the boy to giggle.

Maybe he wasn’t awful at this.

“Do you have any pets?” The boy pressed.

Callisto shook his head. “Nah.  I spend too much time . . . away from home.” They skirted around the topic of assassination. “And I wouldn’t want tae take a pet on the road with me.”

Ezran tilted his head. “You don’t have any family or friends who could take care of them while you’re gone?”

Sighing, Callisto pulled his glaive from the water and lay it across his lap - it wasn’t really doing anything at the moment anyway, the water steering them readily enough.  He rested his arms on it to gesture back to the boy. “No.  My parents were assassins, too.  They were killed on a mission when I was a little younger than you.  After that, I was sort of shuffled between families in my Mooncub pride, never had anywhere to call home until I was grown and carved out my own place.”

“I’m sorry.” The boy said sincerely. “About your parents.  Um, what’s a Mooncub pride, though?”

Callisto couldn’t help but smile a little at the question. “Moonshadow elves don’t have cities like you’re used to, lad.  There’s not really enough of us.  We live in small, tight-knit villages throughout Moonshadow Forest.  Prides of Mooncubs are little groups of elflings of around the same age who all grow up together.  Most of the adults of the village are on rotation to be pride leaders for the prides.  Assassins like me get a pass on rotation because we’re not always around, but Andromeda and Runaan volunteer, since they both want their own kids, and Runaan has one.  I think Ram took a few rotations too, just because he thought he should get the experience.”

Skor used to do rotations, too.  He’d been a beloved teacher when he was young, teaching the children songs and folktales that kept them entertained for weeks, until he’d lost his voice on that mission to the Breach.  As far as Callisto knew, he hadn’t taken a shift with the Mooncubs since then, and honestly, Callisto wasn’t certain he could do it without help, since it was only the assassins who widely used shadow sign.  He’d need an interpreter to keep the little ones under control.

He wasn’t about to say that to the child in front of him, though.  That was Skor’s business, and wasn’t Callisto’s place to say.

“Prides tend to grow up quite close.  Some of them remain as close as siblings - others develop romances when they get older.  There’s no blueprint for how it’s supposed to be, but they tend to be tight-knit groups of three to five in an age group.” Callisto added to keep him distracted.

Ezran met his eyes curiously and Callisto felt a little uneasy at how piercing the little boy’s gray eyes were. “What happened to your pride, then?  You said you don’t have anybody at home, but they’re supposed to be as close as siblings.”

Callisto sighed. “It’s not that simple.” He found himself saying. “After my parents were killed, I thought, if their duty was worth dying for, leavin’ me alone like that, then it was worth dedicating my life to, as well.  None of my pridemates felt the same about it, and I thought . . . I just thought it would hurt them less if we just grew apart before I died.  So I committed to the assassins’ guild.  I cut my hair off so it can’t be braided with affection, I tattooed where it would grow so they know I won’t take it back, I don’t wear jewelry like Runaan and Andromeda and Ram - this is who I am now.  The guild is my only priority.  I didn’t stay close with any of them.”

“That’s sad.” Ezran said simply, and looked back down at the toad in his lap. “I don’t have a lot of friends either.  Other kids are hard, and I’m the prince, which means people lie to me a lot to try and make themselves seem nice, when they’re not.  Animals are easier.  Most of my friends are Bait, and the palace animals like cats and dogs and horses.  But you had friends and you just let them go.  Don’t you get lonely?”

The question surprised him.  No one had asked him that in a long time.  They saw the way he held himself and no other elves ever questioned his commitment to his guild.  Callisto opened and shut his mouth briefly, actually considering the question.  Was he really?

“No.” He said after a moment, heart warmed yet shriveling with guilt as he thought of the amount of time he and Skor spent in the trees surrounding the training grounds together instead of either of their homes.  How often they ended up sleeping there, within reach of each other but never quite touching.

Putting that braid in Skor’s hair even though he didn’t have any to let him return the gesture.

“I’ve got the other assassins,” He explained when Ezran looked at him. “That’s all I really need.”

“Uh, Callisto, pull the boat over!” Rayla squawked from ahead of them, and Callisto’s attention snapped up to her panicked tone. 

They were moving faster.  Shit.  They were hitting rapids.  Callisto stood up and thrust his glaive back into the water, but with the forces they were under, the slim blade was no longer enough to steer.  Gritting his teeth, he went to his knees and thrust down as far as he could, and couldn’t touch the riverbed. “Can’t.” He said shortly, and glanced over his shoulder towards the rapidly approaching waterfall.

“What do ye mean ye can’t!” Rayla yelped. “That’s the whole reason you’re here!”

“I got distracted, I’m sorry!” Callisto snapped, guilt pulling at his chest as he looked at her terrified face. “Can you see the others on the bank?”

“No,” Callum reported. “They must be back in the trees.  Should we call for help?  I feel like we should call for help.”

The roar of the water would cover them up. “You can try.” Callisto said, and cast his eyes about for something to catch the boat on.  If he could just turn them a little -

The first stage of the waterfall almost knocked him from the boat when he stood up too much.  He clutched to the edge in time and flipped himself back in as the children clung to its sides, and only barely kept hold of his glaive.  He bared his teeth, hissing from exertion, and saw the pair of rocks upcoming just in time. “Hang on!” He barked, and braced his knees under the rear bench of the boat, flipping his glaive sideways to catch on a pair of jutting rocks just in time.

The boat’s progress abruptly stopped, and Callisto snarled as their weight suddenly slammed into his thighs, but they were at least not barreling down through the rapids anymore. “Rayla, help me move.”

“Move!?” She sounded halfway to hysterical. 

“If we can push this boat back upstream a little and turn it to the side usin’ my glaive, it’ll wedge itself between these rocks and give us time tae get to shore.” He explained over his shoulder. “So help me .  I can’t do this alone, I’m not Runaan.”

She made a fussy noise but he felt the weight in the boat move as she crawled back to join him.  She and Prince Callum both braced on his glaive and gave him time to slide out from the edge of the boat, and place himself upstream, pushing back against his glaive to get where they needed to go instead of pulling.  He braced his back to the flow of the water and pushed, and they actually seemed to be making a bit of progress, for a minute.

“Oh.  Oh no.” Prince Callum paled.

“What do you mean, oh no ?” Callisto hissed. “I don’t like oh no!”

“Oh no,” Rayla’s eyes were as wide as they would go despite the water pelting them. “There’s a log!”

“There’s a-” Callisto looked over his shoulder and panic shot through his blood as he saw the log barreling down towards them.

“You have to get on this side!” Callum urged.

He’d barely have time, and if he wasn’t quick enough, he’d lose the boat.  But there were more sharp rocks below and he couldn’t risk it capsizing with the children in it if he had another option.  Callisto vaulted over his glaive and luckily caught the boat with his calves, though the children both lost their holds on his weapon from the sudden loss of his help.  His hand landed not on the grip of his glaive but on the slick wood to the side of it and he lost hold of it, catching them with his elbow wrapped around the weapon instead of his hand.

There wasn’t time to adjust to the guarded grip before the log impacted his arm and the snap shattered through his nerves up to his shoulder.  Callisto heard himself shriek and the strength went out of his legs for a crucial second, and he lost the boat below him.  It didn’t capsize, carrying the children and the egg downstream, but without it his weight dropped onto his shattered arm and left him battered by the water.  He inhaled water as he dipped below the surface and his vision spotted with black when he desperately clutched at the grip of his glaive with his free hand.

“Callisto!” Ram shouted from the bank.

“I lost the boat!” He shouted back, needing to get the information out before he lost consciousness, trying and failing to blink the black from his vision as his arm screamed with pain. “The children went downstream with the egg!”

He couldn’t see clearly enough to read anyone’s expressions, and he couldn’t be sure how much of the roaring in his ears was pain, blood, or water.  He saw the largest horned frame - Runaan - stop for a moment and then faintly heard their leader order, “Skor, fetch him.  We’ll get the children.” before the other three rushed on.

If Skor replied, Callisto didn’t hear it, trying to drag himself up out of the water and failing with his arm trapped.

They felt his hands on their shoulders when he pulled them up, though, and helped them get their good hand braced on the glaive. “Stay awake.” He ordered roughly, touching his knuckles briefly to their chin to get their attention. “Can’t take your arm with the binding on it.” He warned, and his swords swung at the log.

The impact vibrated through Callisto’s shattered arm and he couldn’t stop the cry from his throat, struggling to keep his grip and not fall back down below the water’s surface.  He was going to vomit if this kept up.  This was too much.

Skor swore loudly and dropped enough to draw a rune on his arm. “Sentire non dolorem.” He said roughly, and the pain abruptly faded away.

Callisto hissed a breath, chest heaving from the exertion and fading pain. “Skor -”

“You need to stay still , Callisto, and ye can’t stop yourself from flinchin’ if it hurts that much.” Skor snapped seriously. “Be still.” 

He fell silent and let him work, aware still of the vibration up his arm and the tears mixing with river water on his face but no longer able to feel the pain.  When Skor cut through enough of the log he kicked it down into the water, freeing his broken arm and leaving him dangling by the good one.

He didn’t have to say anything for Callisto to catch his plan, accepting his offered hand and climbing up onto the glaive and the log. “Can you get to the rocks?” Skor asked seriously, ducking to look up at him through his hair.

Still coughing up water, Callisto nodded.  He wobbled dangerously, but he made it to the rock closer to shore.  Skor waited until he was stable there before cutting the log away from his glaive.  He caught it before it could be lost beneath the water, and handed it over. “Can ye still use that?”

“Yes.” Callisto hissed a breath through his teeth, holding his useless hand close to his chest without looking at it just yet. “I fucked up, Skor.  I should have been payin’ attention.”

“The river turned a sharp corner.  Ye couldn’t have known even if ye were.” Skor said roughly, and he touched their good elbow. “We need to get to shore to catch up with the others.”

Taking the correction, Callisto nodded.  Without the pain the main issue with leaping from rock to rock to shore was how their arm flopped unresponsively, but they managed not to slip, and they made it to the grass all right.  Only then did they look down at it, and grimaced with revulsion.  It was definitely broken, above the assassin’s binding that still adorned that arm, and his gauntlet hadn’t saved him from scrapes when Skor pushed the log off of it. 

“Callisto?  You with me?” Skor asked him softly, and he looked up from it to see the other assassin standing close.  He reached out and took hold of Callisto’s injured elbow, clearly able to see the unnatural bend in the arm below it. “What do you need?”

“A sling,” He answered automatically. “A brace or splint won’t do any good with the binding on.  It’ll just get worse - until it falls off.  I’ll have to take it at the elbow.  But I need it held still so I can move.”

Skor nodded. “I’ve got you.” He slung his packs off his shoulder and knelt, digging through it until he found a length of cloth from his bedroll and cut it free.  He helped fashion it into a makeshift sling, and pin Callisto’s arm securely to his chest.

“We should go.  And you can lift that spell now.  I know how you feel about usin’ magic.” Callisto assured him when he’d put the packs away and straightened up.

Skor shook his head. “Need you functional.” He said, and beckoned, and when Callisto opened his mouth to argue, he saw a tired fear in his pale gold eyes and his voice died in his throat.  He followed without further protest, just praying that Runaan and the others had found the children without incident.

That his failure hadn’t cost them everything.

Notes:

The kids are fine, they're going to have roughly the same ending experience with the boat as in canon. Rayla's even going to get an "Im proud of you" out of Runaan for fighting the ocean monster for Bait.

Chapter 9: Suspicions

Summary:

The elves discover what Rayla did for Bait, and Ram and Runaan exchange some suspicions and advice.

Ram’s blood ran hot as he followed on Runaan’s heels, frustrated as he barely kept up with the older man’s longer stride.  Usually he outstripped everyone, but when Rayla was in danger, it seemed nothing slowed Runaan down.  It would be sweet if it weren’t so unprofessional.

The drop off by the waterfall forced them to take risks to descend.  Andromeda’s swords flipped into climbing picks and she was fine, and Runaan tied a rope to his arrows and lowered himself, but Ram just free climbed down after them.  He only slipped once, and luckily Andromeda was there to catch his hand until he found his footing again.

They could hear the roaring of some creature in the water before they saw it, and the crack of something like lightning despite the day being clear.  There was nothing they could do from the distance about the water serpent that Rayla was clinging to when they first caught sight of it, and Runaan swore as they kept running.  By the time they broke the treeline by calmer waters, the princes and the egg were safely on the bank and Rayla was dragging herself up out of the water, soaking wet, as the smell of seared fish hit them like a wall.  She was shaking as she handed the glow toad over to Prince Ezran.

“Rayla!  You saved Bait!” the younger prince said delightedly. “Without you, he would’ve been -” he broke off and covered the toad’s ears with his hands. “Fish food.”

“That was brave, Rayla.” the older one said sincerely, as she began to squeeze the water out of her hair and looked up at the other assassins’ approach. 

“No, I already told ye.  I’m afraid of water.” Rayla said almost grumpily, her shoulders still hunched in on herself.

“I know,” Prince Callum said at the same time. “That’s why doing what you did was so heroic.”

“What happened?” Andromeda asked.

“Rayla went back into the water to rescue Bait from the monster!” Prince Ezran said brightly. 

Back into the water?  She had turned around for the toad, after reaching the shoreline?  Ram felt a bit bad for how he’d spoken about her that morning, seeing as now she had been the one to help fix what went wrong.

“I was still scared tae death.” Rayla pouted at the boys.

Ram cleared his throat. “Courage isn’t the absence of fear, Rayla.  It’s the judgment that something else is more important than fear.  Apparently, like rescuing a glow toad.”

She squinted at him. “Thanks, Callum.  And thanks, Ram.  I think.”

“Just take the fucking compliment.” He grouched, self-conscious when her father shot him an appreciative look. 

“I did!” Rayla sputtered. “I just thanked you , ye grumpy bastard.”

“Children, please.” Runaan said in a longsuffering sort of tone and Ram’s ears heated with embarrassment as he looked away.  More warmly, Runaan rumbled, “Rayla.  I’m glad you’re all right.  You went back into the water to rescue the prince’s pet, is that right?”

“Yes?” She said uncertainly.

“You did well.” Runaan paused, and then added, very gently, “I am proud of you.” When Ram looked back, Runaan had folded his daughter into a hug, and Rayla was burying her face in his coat, shivering in her wet clothes.

“Why wouldn’t you just tell us about your fear?” Prince Ezran asked kindly. “It’s okay to be afraid of things.”

“I guess I was afraid of bein’ afraid.” Rayla confessed, looking down as she was released from Runaan’s arms. 

Runaan frowned, but before he could answer, Callum interrupted. “That’s kinda circular.  But hey, worth noting, you’re not afraid of being afraid of being afraid!”

Ram squinted at the boy, wondering if he was joking or just really on something.

“That’s deep.” Rayla said dryly. “But stupid.  The thing is, Moonshadow elves aren’t supposed to show fear.  Ever.”

That wasn’t . . . entirely true.  Ram waited for her to add the caveat about ever in front of the humans , but she didn’t.  

“That’s sad.” Prince Ezran said.

“It is our way - outside the protection of our forest, that is.” Runaan said, looking Rayla over with a concerned furrow to his brow. “A Moonshadow elf may feel however they feel, but it is not safe to allow others to know our fears, lest they be used against us.” He tilted his head at Rayla. 

She looked away from him, down at the ground, and hugged her own arms. “My parents aren’t really dead.” She confessed to the riverbank, and Ram blinked with surprise that she was willing to share this with the human princes. “But I wish they were.  They’re cowards.”

It didn’t escape Ram’s notice how Runaan flinched, almost imperceptibly, at her fierce tone.  Her parents had been his closest friends before they left for the Dragonguard.  Ram often wondered how he coped.

“What do you mean?” Prince Callum asked.

“My parents were part of an elite force, the Dragonguard.  Eight elven warriors chosen to protect the egg of the dragon prince.  Storm archdragons only lay an egg every thousand years, so that egg is so rare and precious - but when the humans came and killed the Dragon King, the Dragonguard, my parents, failed in their duty.  They ran away.  I’m so ashamed.” 

Prince Callum reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Rayla, I’m so sorry for what humans did.”

The thing was, Ram was actually starting to believe him.  But Rayla’s story made him think, too.  Her parents were the ones who had failed to protect the dragon prince.  Then their daughter came to Katolis to avenge it, and was the one to find it?  And the king who had come to kill the dragon king may not have even known it was stolen, from the sounds of their story back at the capital.

They had assumed Rayla’s parents fled because their bodies were never found, unlike the Lux Aurean knights and Skywing mage that had been at the dragons’ side.  But if the egg was stolen, and not destroyed, why had they assumed it was dead?

“That’s why I have to make things right.  When I first came here, I was on a quest for revenge, but the moment I saw that egg, everythin’ changed.  Now this is a journey of redemption.” Her eyes flicked over to Runaan as she said it, and he nodded slightly at her.

Well, it wasn’t like the whole team wasn’t well aware he had brought her specifically to make up for her parents’ mistakes.  He would never have brought another assassin her age on such an important quest, no matter how skilled they were.  Ram wasn’t bitter, anymore, though he certainly would have been a few years before, he was strong enough to admit.

“We’re in this together.” Prince Callum said firmly.

“Speaking of, what happened there?” Andromeda asked, gesturing to the lake, which was littered with floating seared fish.

“Oh!” Prince Callum held up the primal stone. “I kinda don’t know how to finish the spell but I saw Claudia make a rune and shoot lightning from the primal stone, so I did that.  I thought I could get rid of the monster so Rayla could get Bait to shore.  And it worked!”

Runaan blinked and Ram’s eyes went wide, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. “You don’t.  Know how to finish the spell?” Runaan echoed. “And you started it anyway?”

“Well, yeah.  It’s fine though!  All the lightning dissipated into the water and got rid of the monster!  And now Rayla and Bait are fine.” The boy said proudly.  Ram felt a bit faint.

“There’s usually a spell word in Ancient Draconic to finish a spell,” Rayla said nervously. “You didn’t hear her say anythin’?”

“I mean, I think she called me a fool, but not really?”

“Fool sounds about right.” Runaan said tiredly. “Ram, we’re going to need to start holding lessons in Ancient Draconic to prevent any . . . magical incidents, if the prince is going to keep this primal stone.”

Ram knew better by now than to protest the subtle order and suggest they just take it away, so he just nodded. “I’ll write something up.”

“Wait, what about Callisto?” Rayla asked anxiously, looking around their shoulders. “I knew they’d be a little later, but is he okay?”

Runaan shook his head. “Alive, last we saw.  Skor’s fetching him.  They should be catching up with us soon.”

“We’re here,” Skor’s rough voice called from the trees, and Ram looked over relieved to see both of them.  He winced when he saw the sling holding Callisto’s left arm to his chest, though, and the way the older elf leaned on his glaive to walk.

“I’m sorry,” Callisto rushed out before any of them could speak. “I fucked up.  I lost focus and I should have been payin’ more attention.  That was on me.  Rayla, I’m sorry, I promised you I’d keep you safe, and I failed you.  Runaan, I put your daughter in harm’s way with my mistakes, and I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one who distracted you,” Prince Ezran said softly, and they all looked at him in surprise. “This is all my fault.” His little gray eyes welled up with tears but he looked back at them bravely.

Runaan shook his head and knelt in front of the child. “Even if you were what he was distracted with, Callisto is a grown elf who is capable of managing their own focus, Prince Ezran.  Unless you were somehow physically forcing it, whatever fault there is for what happened lies squarely on his shoulders, not yours.”

Callisto nodded. “He’s right, lad.  I know better than to let conversation take all my attention.  This wasn’t your fault.”

Runaan rose again once Ezran sniffled and nodded, wiping his face clean, and looked over at Callisto critically. “You know what you did wrong?”

“I do.”

“Then that broken arm is more than enough consequence and will teach you more than I ever could.” Runaan said firmly. “How does it look?”

Callisto grimaced. “I’ve got an extra elbow in there, if you catch my meaning.”

“You seem remarkably lucid.” Runaan said with a shade of surprise.

“Someone’s holdin’ a numbing spell on it for the time being, but that’s not a long-term solution.” Callisto tilted his head towards Skor to punctuate the statement. “I can’t splint it or brace it, it’s the bound hand, so it’ll just keep makin’ things worse.”

Rayla frowned. “I know it’s not a good solution,” She said tentatively. “But if you’re gonna lose the hand anyway, is it worth savin’ it for now, with it so badly hurt?  Or could ye just . . . take it early so you can heal?”

“No.” Runaan said very firmly. “The bindings don’t work that way.  They continue to tighten until the spell is released.  They are bound to a death.  If their target cuts them free ahead of time, they will take that blood price from the wearer.  If we try to remove the limbs early, the bindings kill us.”

Rayla paled. “Right.  Definitely not doin’ that then.”

The bindings would kill them, they’d nearly lost Callisto anyway trying to make up the time they’d lost.  Ram frowned and was asking nearly before he thought about it. “Runaan, may I speak with you for a moment?” As an afterthought he added, “Perhaps away from the children?”

Runaan shot him a surprised glance but nodded and slung his pack off his shoulder. “Rayla, search through my pack and find some spell cord.  We can use that to bind Callisto’s arm and ensure he’s still able to move without excessive pain without anyone needing to hold the spell from their own core.”

“Got it.” She agreed, and immediately knelt to investigate.

“I’ll manage.” Callisto argued.

“Don’t argue with me, Callisto.  Skor is right.  This will only grow worse from here.” Runaan said firmly. “All of you get some rest.  You in particular, we will need it.  And no boat from here.  It’s too much of a risk.”

Rayla slumped with relief. “No more boat!”

“No more boat.” Callum agreed with a sigh. 

Callisto pursed his lips and shook his head, but he didn’t argue, and when Skor urged him, he at least sat down to rest as instructed.  Ram waited until Runaan turned to walk into the trees.  

They only needed to be out of earshot, not out of sight, so Ram didn’t concern himself with getting hidden.  They could still see movement from the others through the trees when he stopped and turned, tugging at his jacket nervously. 

“Ram?” Runaan prompted, pausing too and giving him one of those piercing looks.

Ram shook himself. “Does this all seem a little suspicious to you?” He asked bluntly. “We’ve almost lost someone every day since Rayla didn’t kill that guard.”

Runaan narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. “I know you are too intelligent to imply what it sounds like you are implying to my face.” He said flatly. “Rephrase, Ram.  Now.”

Shit, bad word choice, Ram did not like being the one Runaan was staring down with that look on his face. “I’m not implying anything about Rayla.” He said firmly. “This with Callisto, it made me think, and it didn’t actually start with us coming to Katolis, is the thing.”

“What is ‘this’, in your mind?” Runaan prompted, still warily.

Ram gestured helplessly. “All of this, Runaan.  I thought this morning of it as if it started when we came to Katolis, but it didn’t.  It started on the eve of winter’s turn moons ago.  We knew the Dragonguard ran because their bodies were never found.  So we launch our mission for vengeance, arrive in Katolis only to find the egg intact and alive, which means it was also never found.  Why did the dragons assume it was dead, when we came to the opposite conclusion about the guard?”

Runaan frowned deeply, and Ram took it as vindication that his mentor was as troubled by this as he was. “That is . . . troubling.” Runaan admitted.

“On top of that, the egg was hidden away in a dungeon upon arriving in Katolis, and even the princes didn’t know it was there.  Is that the behavior of a victorious king?” Ram pointed out. “Would he not want his people to know of his success?  Why hide it away?  Or was it not the king who took it?”

“They did say the egg was held by the dark mage, who turned his magic against Prince Callum that night.” Runaan mused, glancing back towards the group they had left on the lakeside.

Ram nodded. “Rayla doesn’t kill one guard, and we all almost lose our lives.  And then we leave, yet the king dies anyway without us lifting a finger, and we take the blame.  We go to this Banther Lodge to try and cover a potential threat, and we almost lose you and Rayla.  We try to make up time with the river, and we’ve wounded and nearly lost Callisto.  Something isn’t right here, Runaan.  It’s as if we’re being haunted by some forces beyond our control, and it all started with the Ghosts.”

Runaan’s eyes narrowed and he gave him a searching look. “What are you suggesting, exactly?”

“I don’t know.” Ram admitted. “I don’t see how they could have contacted the mage without the dragons’ knowledge, so I don’t believe they planned the theft with him.  But it does seem suspicious that our path has been so haunted surrounding the mission - and the daughter - they abandoned.”

Runaan hummed thoughtfully, scanning the trees around them as if automatically as he considered.

“We thought them alive because the dragons said they found nothing.  But the dragons also could not have found the remnants of the egg, as it’s alive and well.  The Dragon Queen had to know it left the cave intact.  What else didn’t she tell us?” Ram said helplessly. “We don’t know why the egg was stolen, or why the dragons thought it dead.  We don’t know what happened to the king of Katolis.  If we were wrong about the egg, what else are we wrong about?  Both kings are dead and the princes have been threatened and the only common thread is that dark mage and the disappearance of the Dragonguard.  Are we fighting the war we think we are, or are we all being led about like puppets on strings?”

Teal eyes narrowed and Runaan ran a hand down his face, pausing with it half-covering his mouth in thought as he stared at the ground. “Those are serious questions, Ram.” He said slowly.

“I know.” 

A long, slow breath from the older man and Runaan looked him in the eye. “I have no proof you are wrong to ask them.” He admitted. “It may be that you are right.” He spread that hand that had been on his face out towards the forest. “On the other hand, sun’s truths - the simplest explanation is usually the right one.  Everything that’s caused us trouble so far has had a straightforward explanation, most of them disconnected.  We should tell the other assassins of your concerns, but I do not think we have enough information to take them as a serious threat just yet.”

While it still worried him, Ram would take what he could get.  Runaan had not gotten to the age of 35 as an assassin by taking unnecessary risks.  His judgment was one to be trusted. “I understand.”

“We will keep this quiet from the princes and Rayla.” Runaan added, almost offhandedly, and Ram stiffened. “We do not have enough information to confirm, and the children have been through enough, and we do not have the trust required to match our concerns to their faith.”

Ram glanced down at his own gauntlets and took a chance before the bitter taste in his mouth overwhelmed him. “I know I just asked you for advice, but may I also offer you some?” He asked carefully.

Runaan raised an eyebrow at him. “Offer me some?” He said skeptically. “I'm listening.”

“Make a decision about Rayla.” Ram dared to meet his gaze. “And I don't mean about your personal relationship and your family, that's your business.  Make a decision about whether she's one of us or one of the children.”

“Excuse me?”

Ram looked at him seriously, hoping Runaan would listen to him even as the older man bridled. “You keep doing this, Runaan.  Just now you told me to keep something from her while we tell the other assassins.  You call her an assassin but you treat her like a child.”

Runaan actually paused at that, and though his lips were pulled back halfway to a snarl, his eyes cast down to consider Ram's words.

Ram pressed on to make his point. “I'm not saying this because I resent her special treatment, Runaan.  I'm saying it because it doesn't just hold her apart, it's going to hurt her. Maybe get her killed.” Or the rest of them, but he had a feeling focusing on his daughter would get through to Runaan more.

“And how do you know this?” Runaan challenged him, but his tone wasn't as strong as one who was convinced of his challenge.

“I know what it is to grow up with a father with high expectations.” Ram reminded him, wincing at the rawness in his own tone. “And I promise you, Runaan, it doesn't matter how much you've reassured her or what you've said to tell her you'll always be proud of her.  She knows what you believe she's capable of.  That's why she pushes herself so hard.  She's going to keep pushing herself harder and harder and getting into situations she can't handle all in the hopes that one day, she'll do something impressive enough that you'll actually treat her as the assassin you tell her she is.”

Runaan tilted his head at him, something wounded flickering in his eyes. “Has she said anything of this?”

“No.  And maybe I'm entirely off the mark - I'm not Rayla, and you're not my father.” Ram admitted. “But I know what it felt like when I was doing what she's doing, when I was living in my father's shadow and expectations no matter how proud he was of me.  It's frustrating and confusing and it nearly killed my relationship with him.  This is why I became an assassin so late, why I left the keepers.

“You and Rayla are very different people than my father and I,” Ram continued, meeting Runaan's gaze bravely. “I don't think you ever could drive her away the way my father drove me away.  But you can hurt her the way he hurt me, and you're doing it with this double standard you keep.  Make a decision, Runaan.  I'm not telling you what the decision should be - she's not my daughter and this isn't my mission.  But I wasn’t ready for this much pressure when I was 15, and you were right to tell me so. Maybe she is.  I don't know.  But make a decision, because this double standard isn't fair to her or any of us.”

Runaan looked at him for a long moment and Ram couldn't quite read his expression.  He gave a long sigh through his nose. “Your father and I disagree on a great many things, Ram.”

“I’m aware.” Ram said dryly, remembering well the sour look on his father’s face and the argument that had ensued when he revealed he was moving to Runaan’s troupe from Silerian’s.

“But he raised a good son.” Runaan said simply without reacting to his smart comment, managing to surprise him. “And you've become a good man.  It . . . will take time.  But I will give your words serious thought.  I thank you for your honesty.”

Ram nodded. “Thank you for hearing me out, on my suspicions and on this.”

“And you're right.” Runaan admitted. “Rayla should be told of your thoughts.  I was wrong to think to keep them from her.”

“I will tell her when I go to apologize for what I said this morning.” Ram promised, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Good.” Runaan glanced back towards the camp, ears pricking towards the brief burst of noise. “Was that all?”

“Yes.  We should go make sure Callisto is well enough to travel.” Ram agreed, and they headed back towards the camp in step.  He was relieved to have gotten all that off his chest.  He just hoped Runaan would follow through.

And that he was right, and the simplest explanation was the right one.

Notes:

Ram's a suspicious bitch with anger issues and it's tipped him off to something being wrong long before anyone else figured it out.

Chapter 10: Hearts To Hearts

Summary:

Ram owes Rayla an apology, and an explanation.
Runaan decides Callum needs some safety classes before toying with magic.
Callisto notices Ezran needs some reassurance.

“Rayla, could I -” Ram broke off when Rayla looked up at him after handing the spell cord over to Runaan upon their return.  She and the princes had been watching her father tie runed knots into the cord and enchant them carefully with the numbing spell Skor was holding on Callisto’s arm, to bind it in place.  She’d seen him do this a handful of times before, but nearly all of them had been mere demonstrations.

Ram cleared his throat and relaxed his shoulders, opening his posture a bit more to her and ducking to soften his tone. “Will you give me a hand with my tent?” He asked, and she recognized the peace offering for what it was.  He didn’t need help, he just needed an excuse to talk to her.

“Yeah, I can help.” She agreed, leaving the princes near her father and Callisto, and joining him across the bounds of what they’d agreed upon as a campsite.  It was just far enough away that with how lowly the others were speaking, they couldn’t really hear each other anymore, and she doubted the humans could hear at all.

Ram smiled at her when she arrived, awkwardly, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I need to apologize to you for what I said this morning.” He said bluntly.  He got his hands busy actually erecting his tent and she moved to help him just to keep up pretenses. “It was thoughtless at best, and cruel, and I am sorry for what I implied about you and your character.”

Swallowing hard, Rayla pointed out, “You weren’t wrong, though.  Even today, we went on the boat and . . .”

“And what happened was Callisto’s fault, not yours.” Ram cut her off firmly. “Don’t take the blame for something you had no control over, Rayla.  No one expected you to manage him.”

Rayla looked down at the stake in her hand, reminded of every other failure since they’d arrived in Katolis.  He had been right about the other times, though.  She’d nearly gotten Runaan killed at the Banther Lodge - nearly gotten them all killed when she stared down at a human guard like she was staring at this stake, and seen the fear in his eyes.  She didn’t understand it until days later, speaking to the princes about their father’s death, learned that humans didn’t know what happened after death.  Of course he was afraid, but you had a job to do . “Still . . .”

“I was blaming you for misfortune that started before the Dragon Queen even issued this mission, never mind when we were chosen for it.” Ram said firmly. “This all started moons ago when the Dragon King was killed and the egg went missing.  They told us it was dead, but they never found a trace of it to confirm it?  And the humans didn’t know either?” He shook his head when she looked at him sharply. “And then the human king dies without us even setting eyes on him, and everything we do after that blows up in our faces.  Only one of those things was your fault, and -” He sighed. “Look, I am angry about that.  I won’t pretend I’m not.  But it wasn’t fair of me to blame the rest of it on you because I was angry about a mistake that honestly, was as much Runaan’s as yours.  I’m sorry, Rayla.” He offered her his hand. “Friends?”

She hesitated before taking it. “It wasn’t Runaan’s fault.” She said, confused. “I should have been able to handle it.”

“Rayla-” Ram sighed, and retracted his hand to rub his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.  Runaan should have known you couldn’t.  It’s his job to know.  I know this mission weighs heavier on you than the rest of us - Moon knows Runaan would never have brought me on a mission like this at 15.”

“You think I’m too young for this.” She accused, bridling irritably at the implication.

Ram showed her his palms. “I didn’t say that.  It’s not my judgment to make.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But I wasn’t ready when I was 15.  It would be hypocritical of me to blame you for that, when Runaan made the judgment that you were.  He backed you into a corner and now you suffer the consequences.” He grimaced.

She glared at him, dropping the stake and folding her arms. “Who are you to criticize?” She demanded. “You’re only five years older than me.”

“Which means I’m young enough to remember being 15,” Ram said with a self-deprecating smile. “And I remember what it felt like.  Look, Rayla, what I’m trying to say is that while I’m upset, I recognize that all of this is far more complicated than we realized, and you’re doing your best to help us all through it.  And I appreciate that.  I’m sorry I spoke poorly of you this morning.  I do value your presence here.”

Rayla remembered when Ram was 15 too.  He had only joined Runaan’s training troupe that year, having been in training with Silerian the year before and with the Keepers before that, set to follow in his father’s footsteps.  He had been hot-tempered and fiery, and that much hadn’t changed.  Runaan had said he was too hasty, much like he said she was too hesitant.  Now his hastiness and snap judgments had turned to speed and decisiveness that served them well, and Runaan valued his input in a way he still didn’t value hers.

Maybe he was right.  Maybe Runaan didn’t know her well enough and had made a mistake, and it had affected her, made her make another mistake.  Rayla sighed and put out her own hand in response. “Thank you, Ram.  Friends.”

He clasped her elbow in the familiar gesture of warmth between Moonshadow elves. “There is something else you should know, while I have you.” He added. “Which is only tangentially connected to all this.  You deserved a proper apology first.”

With that, he began to tell her of his suspicions about their mission being haunted - perhaps by her parents, or by the dark mage, or both.  She hated the thought, and took comfort in Runaan’s doubts.  Surely . . . they wouldn’t.

But she never thought they’d run, either.

 

“Prince Callum, a word.” Runaan said before Callum could ask why Ram needed Rayla’s help just to pitch a tent.  Callum’s back straightened on reflex from the authority in the older man’s tone and he turned quickly back to face him, and came over to where he knelt near Callisto with the cord Rayla had handed him. “If you are going to be doing Primal Magic with that stone, you need to learn some basic tenets of magic safety .” Runaan said without taking his eyes off the cord. “Such as never calling upon magic without knowing how to release it.”

Callum laughed nervously and carefully sat down when it seemed this was going to turn into a lecture. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.” Runaan arched a brow at him pointedly. “I’m well aware that it worked out for you this time.  Ram will be writing up a few lessons in Ancient Draconic on his watch for you, so that next time you won’t be so unprepared.”

“Really?” Callum blurted in disbelief, and shrank when the elf looked at him. “I mean, thank you, thank him, I just thought - I kind of didn’t expect you to be so cool about a human using primal magic.”

Runaan gave him an intense stare and then sighed, tying another knot in the spell cord and yanking it tight. “There is no way to know who that Primal Stone belonged to when it was made.” He said simply. “Lives have been lost and blood has been spilled for it to make its way to the human kingdoms.  But you have caused none of that suffering, and for now, it seems we have a common purpose, which may extend beyond the current task.  The stone is yours, Prince Callum, I will not take it from you.  Storm magic is not in my arcanum anyway; it does you more good.”

“What’s an arcanum?” Callum asked, unfamiliar with the word.

“The arcanum is the secret of the Primal, or its meaning.  There are many truths to each Primal, but the deepest ones are held in the core of creatures of magic.  That small truth we hold in our core is what forges the connection to our Primal Source, and enables elven mages to use its power.  In a sense, the arcanum is our internal primal stone.” Runaan explained patiently.

Callum was leaning forward without even thinking about it, eagerly. “So what’s the secret to moon magic?” 

Runaan shook his head. “Do you understand the secret to the sky primal because you carry a primal stone?” He asked.

“Well, no, but you said it was something you just had inside you. I thought the stone has the secret, so you guys must just know it.” Callum said, brows furrowing with confusion, embarrassed heat coming to his neck as the quiet one, Skor, glowered at him from Callisto’s side.  Runaan at least didn’t seem bothered by the question.

“No.  The arcanum is very much like the stone.  We have it; this does not mean it can be put into words.  Moon magic in particular is . . . tricky, at best, and many Moonshadow elves cannot master it enough to perform spells.  All magic can be dangerous, if uncontrolled or misused, but moon magic at its best can drive an elf mad.” Runaan explained. “Which is why I will not be teaching you anything specific.”

“Moon reflects sun, as death reflects life.” Skor growled, voice rasping even more than usual, and his face was fierce when Callum looked at him. “Moon magic is not t’be toyed with when you’re fresh with grief.”

Runaan hummed a low agreement. “Moon magic is in the cycle of life and death, with the focus often on death as earth has life, but it is also in reality and perception.  It can be . . . dangerous, even for those of us who have it in our core.”

Callum’s shoulders slumped with disappointment, but at least he still had the primal stone and sky magic.  They’d said Ram would help him with that. “So . . . what are you doing right now?”

“I am tying knots in this spell cord along its runes, so that I can bind Callisto’s arm in place, and the cord will hold the spell that keeps the pain from becoming overwhelming.  Out of deference to his expertise I will not be numbing it entirely, just keeping it under control.”

Callisto bared his fangs briefly and growled. “Numbing the way we do it doesn’t help .  No sensation means no response, and havin’ no response from a wounded limb is very very bad .”

Runaan rolled his eyes and Callum caught himself smiling, comforted by the evidence that this terrifying, incredibly dangerous assassin was like Aunt Amaya or King Harrow, at his core still just a person, and one with friends and a sense of humor. “Yes, Callisto.  I understand.” He said patiently.

“So how does the cord work?” Callum prompted.

“This cord was woven with moon magic in its threads,” Runaan explained. “That is the first part of its magic.  The runes I’ve drawn work the same as the runes of the primal stone.  There is a well of magic in the cord.  There is a connection to its power in the runes.  The final step . . .” He said as he tied off the last knot and beckoned Callisto to sit up, carefully moving their arm around in the sling to loop the cord around it. “The final step is the spell words, to shape the spell, essentially confining it to do its work.” The cord wove in a loose net around the wounded arm and then tied to the sling Callisto wore. “ Gravi dolore .” The runes in each knot glowed briefly; they faded, but the runes left behind looked more distinct than before.

Callisto rolled his shoulders once the sling was back in place and looked over his side at Skor. “You can drop the other spell now, I can’t feel a damn thing between the two of ye.”

Skor scoffed softly, but reached out and wiped a rune away from Callisto’s gauntlet.  He didn’t say anything, but they winced a moment later, and Runaan explained for him. “To let a spell end, after releasing its power with a word, all it takes is a thought.”

“Oh.  That’s neat.  So why wipe the rune away?  I mean, it just sort of faded out after I was done with it when I used that spell on the water.” Callum asked curiously, intrigued by the movement. “Wait, was-” that something he should have cleaned up, he had been going to ask, when he saw Runaan arching one of his snow white brows high at the other two elves.

“Why, indeed?” Runaan asked blandly, and Skor glowered at him.  Callisto wouldn’t meet either of their gazes. “Never mind, Prince Callum.  More important for you is the importance of choosing the words of your spells.” He placed a firm hand on Callum’s shoulder and stood up. “Good night, Callisto, Skor.” 

“Good night.” Callisto was the only one who answered as Callum took the implied instruction and scurried off after Runaan.  He listened with rapt attention as Runaan did nothing but lecture him about safety rules that Rayla clearly found boring after that, until the elf sent him to bed, and he went to cuddle with Ezran vibrating with excitement about learning magic.

 

“Ezran,” Callisto called after Runaan and Callum had walked away.  Ezran had been sitting to the side with Bait, fighting loneliness after his brother and Rayla had both abandoned him, because it looked like Andromeda was busy setting up her campsite and checking their perimeter, and he looked up in surprise at hearing his name from an unexpected direction.  The wounded elf smiled at him and beckoned him closer.

Reluctantly, Ezran picked Bait up and went over to sit with him. “Hi.” and then, because he couldn’t help himself, “I’m sorry you got hurt.  How is it now?”

“It hurts,” Callisto said honestly, but his brows were furrowed and Skor frowned over his shoulder, where the older assassin was sitting behind the healer so that Callisto could lean back on his chest. “But that’s sort of what I wanted ta talk to you about, lad.  You don’t need to apologize.  Who told you it was your job t’ look after the adults around you?”

Ezran looked down at Bait, and sighed when the glow toad gave him a reassuring rumble. “No one, exactly.  But Soren’s dad always tells him he’s responsible for keeping everyone safe, and he’s the head of the Crownguard.  If I’m the prince, aren’t I responsible for keeping my people safe too?”

“Who’s his father t’be tellin’ him what he’s responsible for, if he’s the head of the Crownguard?” Callisto pointed out skeptically.

“Oh, Lord Viren’s the High Mage.” Ezran said without thinking, and looked up in time to see Skor and Callisto frown and the elves glance at each other.

Skor opened his mouth and then winced, making a sign with one hand at Callisto with a tilt of his head and his ears flattening like a curious dog’s. “Is that sign language?” He asked curiously, not recognizing the sign.

“We call it shadow sign, aye.” Callisto answered, looking at Skor’s hands. “He asked if that’s the dark mage that attacked your brother.”

“Well no,” Ezran said. “I mean - yes, I guess, he said Lord Viren took his voice too when we were trying to leave.  It was his daughter Claudia that was attacking us with dark magic when we found the egg.”

The elves exchanged another glance.  Skor held up two fingers with a furrow in his brow.  Callisto winced. “We knew there were two, don’t act like it’s news,” He scolded his partner. “Surprise that both were on the attack, but not if they’re family, I suppose.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter, though.  So if he’s not Crownguard, it’s not really his business to be tellin’ the leader of it how to run it, is it, even if the man is his son?” He pointed out.

“I guess so.” Ezran looked down at Bait again. “But my dad always said he was a servant of the kingdom of Katolis.  The king is supposed to serve and protect everyone, and now that he’s gone . . .”

Callisto reached over with his good arm and bumped Ezran’s chin with their calloused fingertips to urge him to look up.  They gave him a soft smile, and it struck him again how little the horns smoothly arching off their skull and the fangs that glinted in the moonlight changed. “Even if we follow that logic through, little prince, I’m not one of your people.” He pointed out. “You’ve got no authority over me .  My people don’t believe in kings and queens, so I won’t take some high and mighty place tellin’ you what your role is responsible for.  But right now, as you travel with us?  Princes don’t mean anything.  You’re a child, and it’s our job to take care of you.  You have nothing to be sorry for.  You deserve an apology for how I fucked up today.  I put you and your pet and this whole mission in danger because I stopped payin’ attention.  It doesn’t matter what I was focused on.  That’s on me.  You didn’t have any control over that, because you don’t have any control or authority over me.  Understand?”

That . . . actually did help.  They weren’t his people.  He couldn’t control them, couldn’t be in charge of them.  So maybe it was safe to just be himself, with them, without worrying about his station, since they didn’t care about it.  Ezran smiled weakly back up at the elves. “Thank you, Callisto.” 

Callisto’s expression became a little impish and he leaned over a little closer, dropping his voice to ask, almost conspiratorially, “Would ya like us to stop calling you prince, then?  So you can remember we don’t care about it?  Runaan’s had us usin’ your title because your people find it respectful, but if you’d rather us treat you with our kind of respect . . .”

Dad had always said respecting the cultures of one’s allies was a good way to build goodwill between nations, and Ezran perked up at the idea of it, of honoring his father’s memory and serving his own needs at the same time. “Yes please.  You can just call me Ezran.”

“It’s a deal then, Ezran.” Callisto offered him his good arm. “Moonshadow elves don’t handshake like you do, but put your elbow in my hand - right - and grasp my arm.  That’s sort of our version of a handshake or a light hug, dependin’ on context.  This is a handshake.”

Ezran smiled as brightly as he could up at the elf, and relaxed a little inside when he saw Skor’s usually tight expression was soft and almost affectionate looking over their shoulder.  He had done well by both of them, it seemed. “Good.  Thank you, Callisto.  And Skor, too.” 

“You’re very welcome, lad.  Remember Ezran, you’re ten.  Let yourself be a kid.  If you ever need help, we’re here for ye- all of us.” Callisto promised sincerely. “Though I’d be lyin’ if I said anyone but Skor or Runaan was up to carryin’ you for too long, especially with my arm out of commission.”

Ezran blinked over at Skor. “Would you?” He asked curiously. “I mean, I like walking!  But if I had to ride?”

Skor’s eyes widened and his brows shot up at the question, but he gave a slightly disbelieving little breath and signed something back.  Callisto was smiling faintly when he relayed. “He says yes.  He likes kids.  Though he can’t talk back to ye very much, he has trouble speakin’ too long.”

“It’s okay.  My aunt Amaya doesn’t talk at all except with her hands.  I don’t know shadowsign, but I bet I could pick up a little bit, or someone else could interpret for you.” Ezran said, and Skor just looked very soft at him through the lock of hair that fell partially over his face. 

“Prince Ezran?” Andromeda called. “I’ve got a tent set up for you and your brother.  Are you ready to sleep?”

“Are you?” Callisto asked, orange eyes searching his carefully.

He really did feel better for having talked to them. “Yeah.” On impulse, when he stood up he gave them a careful hug around their injured arm. “Good night, Callisto.  Good night Skor.  Thank you.” He waved as he picked Bait up and headed for the tent as Runaan shooed his brother toward it as well.

Maybe this was okay.  He couldn’t just give up the responsibility of being a prince, or forget it, but it was nice to know that there were some people around who wouldn’t treat him differently because of it.

When he curled up next to Callum and Bait, he felt safer in the elves’ camp, surrounded by their protection, than he had in his own castle, with his friend Claudia screaming in anger on his heels, the night they fled. 

Notes:

I'm adding a link to a tumblr short to the first Banther Lodge chapter too. It didn't fit with the perspectives there, but I don't want the AO3 readers to miss out on it completely.

Chapter 11: Forgiveness

Summary:

Andromeda and Rayla have a long-overdue talk about what happened in Katolis. Some things get resolved.
Skor and Runaan have a long-overdue talk about what's been going on with Skor and Callisto for the past decade. Absolutely nothing gets resolved.

Notes:

So fun fact I wrote the two halves of this chapter days apart (people following my tumblr will have seen the Skor and Runaan scene days ago as a bonus scene I wasn't sure would even properly fit into the chapter once I got here) but once put together it is exactly 3000 words long.

Ram had forgiven her.  Skor had been soft with her ever since the Banther Lodge and her confrontation with the general, apparently considering that experience punishment enough for her lie.  Callisto seemed to be nonchalant about it all, treating Rayla like a team member again with no more guardedness than he used against all of them save for Skor and Runaan.

She had done something very brave and very selfless, and Andromeda just . . . 

Wanted to talk to her friend again.

It just still hurt.

“Rayla?” She asked as the princes settled down to bed and she saw the younger girl finish setting up her own tent. “Can I speak with you?”

Rayla looked startled at the request, her ears tilting back with surprise, and she had to tuck the braid Runaan had given her back behind one. “Now?” She asked.

“I mean, before you sleep.” Andromeda said, uncertain what else Rayla could be busy with at the moment, though she noticed now that her brows were furrowed and she seemed to be troubled. 

“Yeah.” Rayla took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Yeah, we can talk.  It - now’s fine.” 

Andromeda almost started at the very large presence she suddenly sensed beside her elbow as Runaan passed her.  She hadn’t noticed him get up from his tent entrance. “When you are finished,” He said lowly, “Come speak with me, Andromeda.” He looked over at Rayla. “I trust Ram has already informed you of his concerns?” 

His concerns?

Rayla nodded to her father, that troubled look back on her young face.

“Then you may come with her to discuss it or not as you wish.  I’m going to speak with Callisto and Skor before they go to bed.  Find me when you’re done.” Runaan directed the instruction back to Andromeda and slipped away to the other older assassins.

She would get the news out of him when she reported to him after, Andromeda supposed, and suppressed her curiosity for now to focus on Rayla.  She stepped away from her tent, where the princes were resting, and crossed the camp to sit on the rocks nearer Ram and Skor’s tents.  Rayla followed her and perched nearby.

“Rayla . . .” Andromeda trailed off, and rubbed her face tiredly before looking over at the girl. “You did something very brave today.” She said finally. “And I think it was wonderful of you, and I want to be so proud of you for doing it.”

Rayla shrank the longer she talked, and her ears were nearly held flat when she looked up over her knees at Andromeda. “But you’re still upset.”

“Yes.” Andromeda sighed, and adjusted her shorts so that the lines lined up with her tattoos again.

“I’m sorry.” Rayla said dejectedly. “I know I should have just killed that guard, but if I had, we never would have found the egg or started all this.  I don’t know what to think.  But I’m sorry I put us all in danger like that.  I just - I never thought about how afraid humans must be of dyin’, if they don’t know death like we do.”

Andromeda shook her head in frustration. “I’m not angry at you for not killing the soldier, Rayla.  That’s on Runaan for judging you ready when you weren’t.” She said flatly. “I’m angry that you lied about it.  If you just had told us the truth, we hadn’t taken our oath yet.  We weren’t on a timer.  We could have just waited for the next full moon when their guard eased a little, when we had more time to investigate the place; the dragons would have waited.  But you didn’t say anything, we discovered it from the soldier after we were already bound to the mission.  You were going to let us run right into a trap, Rayla!” She cried, spreading her hands. “It’s hard not to feel like you were just throwing our lives away because you didn’t want to face the consequences.”

Rayla flinched. “I didn’t mean to!” She protested. “I asked Runaan - I talked to him about what would happen if they knew we were comin’.  I didn’t know how t’ say it, because I should have been able to handle it, and I wasn’t.  I was ashamed!”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed that you had mercy , Rayla.” Andromeda said firmly, though the whole thing still sat bitterly in her chest. “You have a kind, selfless heart, and it’s what made you that little boy’s hero today.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  I just . . . It hurts that you lied to us.  What did you think we would do?  Did you really think we’d all just kill you?  That Runaan would let us kill you?”

Rayla looked down at the ground, ears pulled flat to her head. “He almost did.” She said softly. 

Andromeda blinked at her, taken aback by the statement.  She’d thought Rayla didn’t trust the rest of them, not Runaan . “What?”

“He said he wanted to speak for me, but he didn’t.” Rayla said, frowning at the ground. “If it doesn’t matter what my mistake led to, it doesn’t matter what he’s said since then.  I know how I feel about him, I know how he feels, but that didn’t matter then!  We weren’t-” She broke off and rested her face in her folded arms, just her eyes showing above them. “I didn’t want him t’be ashamed of me like my parents, an’ then, he didn’t even defend me, Callisto did, and I . . . I was scared, Andromeda.  I wasn’ afraid of dyin’, I was afraid that he hated me.”

Andromeda stared at her, and then looked over to where Runaan was talking quietly to Skor and Callisto.  She couldn’t imagine Runaan hating almost anyone, least of all Rayla . “Has he ever said anything to make you think he could?” She asked, shocked, but concerned nonetheless.

When Rayla didn’t answer right away she looked back, and the girl was picking at her own boots. “No.  It’s not his fault, it’s my parents.  I know they loved me - I thought they loved me.  But they left me for a duty they didn’t even believe in!  What am I supposed to think?  And if they didn’t, how can I expect Runaan to- to be anythin’ but my leader?” 

Her eyes were welling with tears and Andromeda’s heart went out to her despite her anger at the lie.  Oh.  Oh, this lie had nothing to do with the rest of them. “Rayla . . . you sweet child, Runaan loves you more than anything.  I know Skor suggested we kill you, but no one really expected Runaan to agree .  He didn’t.  We weren’t taking his opinion because we know what his judgment is like with you.  He would have defended you, love.  We knew that.”

For once Rayla didn’t even protest being called a child.  She wiped tears from her eyes and stared at the ground. “I’m sorry I lied.  You’re right, I should ha’ just come clean from the beginnin’, but I was so scared my failure would mean I’m just like them .  I couldn’t let that happen, an’ then I just got in too deep and it was too late.  I’m sorry.  I know I was wrong.” She hunched in on herself even further.

Oh, this poor girl.  Andromeda scrubbed her own face tiredly as she felt her own anger and frustration ease.  She was still hurt, but it made sense.  Rayla was only 15, this was her very first mission, and it was so emotionally charged for her.  If it weren’t for how poorly the village treated the children of Ghosts, and how this mission was meant to be a relatively easy strike for vengeance that would have spared her that shame, Andromeda would have thought Runaan foolish and selfish to bring her.  Of course it was going to lead to problems, if Rayla wasn’t quite ready, if she made any mistakes or hesitated even once.  She couldn’t blame the girl for being messed up by her complicated family situation.

“Rayla?”

“Andromeda?”

“I forgive you.” Andromeda said clearly, and watched as Rayla looked up at her in surprise. “I’m still hurt, and it will take time before I’m okay again.  I understand why you did it, but you still hurt me.  But I also see how much my pain matters to you, and I know you wouldn’t do it again.  You might not kill the next person, but you won’t lie about it, and that’s what I was really angry about.  So I forgive you.” 

Rayla gave her a shaky smile. “Thanks, Andromeda.  I dunno if I deserve it . . . but thank ye.  Still friends?” She asked hopefully.

“Yes.  Still friends.” Andromeda leaned over and hugged her, and Rayla clung to her like she was drowning for a moment.  Yes, still friends with Rayla, though she had a few choice words for Runaan.  He needed to know how his distance was fucking with his own child. “You’re a good kid, Rayla.” They just needed to remember how young she really was.  She was of age, with her horns fully grown and stained with their adult patterns, but she was still only 15, with all the turmoil that came with, and young enough to need guidance.  It was easy to forget sometimes when her skill and talent brought her toe-to-toe with Runaan already when they trained.

“I’ve missed ye.” Rayla confessed, still leaning on her shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too, Rayla.” Andromeda hugged her tighter for a moment and smiled at her after letting her go. “And - the others are right.  You did a very brave thing today saving the toad.  I’m proud of you too.”

Rayla gave her a real smile that time. “Thanks, Andromeda.”

Unfortunately, that was about when Andromeda remembered Runaan’s summons.  She glanced over to check where he was, and he was seated a little further from Skor and Callisto, obviously waiting for her.  She’d said what she really needed to say, she supposed. “Rest well, Rayla, when you do.” She settled on saying. “And I’m glad to be talking to you again.  I need to go talk to Runaan.”

“I’m comin’ with ye.  Now that the princes are asleep, I want to hear what he has to say about what Ram said.” Rayla unfolded herself, wiping her face clean, that troubled look back on her face.  Andromeda agreed, puzzled, and met Runaan near the other two, with Ram soon joining them to discuss the younger man’s suspicions.

Andromeda didn’t like the sound of them one bit, but Runaan cautioned against stressing too much and she tried to take comfort in this advice.  In the end, the others were all sent to bed with instructions to take what rest they could get.  Andromeda took the first watch, as the princes were in her tent tonight; she would wake Ram and take his tent later, and the rest of them would cycle through in that manner.  It didn’t escape her notice that Skor never left Callisto’s tent after settling them there, though, and she wondered how that would go when Ram went to wake him for his watch. 

 

Twenty years of this duty had made Runaan a light sleeper whenever he was outside the shelter of his home hollow - or his husband's arms - and he woke enough to be aware of it when Ram handed the night's watch over to Skor. He blinked through the darkness at them, confused for a moment. Since the addition of the children, they'd all been alternating tents; the princes stayed in the tent of the first watch, and they traded through the other five as the night went on. This time Skor showed his teeth at Ram for even ducking towards the tent he emerged from. Waking up a little further to look, it was clear enough as to why - he had been in Callisto's, and the wounded elf was still asleep inside.

As Skor went to sit on the watcher's perch and Ram obediently backed off and went to sleep in Skor's empty tent, Runaan sighed deep and low and pushed himself out of his bedroll. He needed to talk to his friend.

Skor was silent when Runaan sat down next to him, though he glanced over to acknowledge his approach.

“Callisto?” Runaan prompted softly.

Asleep . Skor signed.

Runaan raised an eyebrow at him. “Your throat?”

Shouting over the water .

“Ah.” Runaan shifted to face him, to see his hands better. “So. Callisto is worth holding a numbing spell over, but when I needed stitches a year ago . . .”

Skor rolled his eyes. “You were fine.” He signed pointedly.

“I am.” Runaan agreed, but tilted his head at his friend. “But that isn't why this was different.”

Skor didn't deny it, just cast his gaze back down from the tree to watch the occasional sign of the tracker they'd picked up over the course of the day. They had finally caught up a bit after night fell, though they weren't too daring getting closer.

Runaan watched him for a moment and then glanced back at the tent, which Skor had shut firmly behind him when he left it. He felt Skor's tension rise when he looked, and gave him another pointed look in response.

“Say what you want to say, Master of Blades.” Skor signed with a flat look through his hair.

Runaan sighed. “You are both very dear friends of mine.” He said softly. “I will not ask for details, because I do not want them if he comes to me. I will not be your go-between. But Skor, as your friend, I have to ask, are you happy?”

Skor looked at him sharply.

“You need connection so much more than he does.” Runaan met his gaze. “Are you certain you're happy with the distance he keeps?”

His friend blinked at him and then looked back at the tent, then at the forest. “You know me well, but he knows me better,” Skor replied carefully. “You are right that I need connection, but I have enough. He gives me the space to be who I am now. Yes, I am happy.”

“Even with the distance he keeps from you?”

Skor closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “He is afraid of leaving someone to grieve. I am afraid of leaving someone I love. We aren't . . . We both need time to change, before we can be more than this, Runaan.”

“You are already more than just friends, Skor. We all see it in how you care for each other.”

“I know.” Skor said, a bit sadly. “But committing is too dangerous for us both. We aren't you, Runaan, or Andromeda.”

It was somewhat true that he and Andromeda were the odd ones out. Most assassins married within the guild, fought and died together, or remained unmated until they had left it. The problem was that Runaan knew how dedicated both Skor and Callisto were to the guild, and knew in his sinking heart that neither would ever leave it. “Will you wait forever for him?” he asked softly. “If you had a chance to retire, to have the family you wanted when you were young-”

“That chance is long gone, Runaan. I lost that dream when I was sixteen.” Skor cut him off with a gesture, and touched his unmarked throat meaningfully. “Even if I left, had children, I would never be able to speak to them, tell them stories, sing them songs, the way I wanted to back then.”

“A voice is not a requirement for fatherhood, Skor.”

“No. But it was part of that dream. My hopes have changed, Runaan. Callisto is worth waiting for. If they are never ready, I will be all right, so long as I have them close to my heart.” He touched the braid that Runaan knew Callisto had placed in his hair. “Maybe one day, my friend. But not yet. We aren't ready.”

Runaan watched his face for a moment, seeing only sincerity, a bit of thoughtfulness, and sighed slowly. “I will not pry further. But things have not changed between you for nearly ten years, Skor. I truly hope you both find peace within yourselves, because watching you is beginning to be painful for me .”

Skor smirked at him broadly. “Now you know how everyone else felt when Ethari moved to the Silvergrove.”

Runaan rolled his eyes, but Skor wasn't done.

“And how Rayla feels whenever he shows to the training grounds with a new scar on his jaw from your horns.”

“Yes, yes.” Runaan's cheeks turned faintly pink under his tattoos and he cleared his throat. “I take your point.”

“Not as much as you take -”

“I'm not listening to this anymore.” Runaan pointedly looked away before Skor finished the sentence, and stood up from the branch. “I just wanted to check on you and this is how you betray me.”

When he looked back down, Skor's smile was a little more sincere. “Thank you, my friend. I am all right, I promise.”

“Good. Will you wake him for his turn on watch?”

“What do you take me for?”

“A man very much in love.” Runaan replied bluntly, and his heart ached at how Skor's smile faded a little and he looked away. “Wake me early for mine, if you insist on letting him sleep. Do not exhaust yourself for him.”

Skor nodded. “I will wake you.”

“Good night, Skor. Moon watch over you.”

Skor replied with an old, traditional sign that meant Moon watch over us all , and Runaan dropped down from the branch to return to his tent. While it comforted him that Skor seemed genuinely content with how things were, he still wished for a resolve to this dance his friends had been doing. They seemed all right, but it hadn’t escaped his notice that Skor never said he was happy. Callisto never did, either.

He couldn’t force them into it, though. He just hoped providing what little counsel he could would be enough.

Notes:

The Shadowsign the assassins, and in this chapter specifically Skor and Runaan, use isn't based on any real-life sign language, somewhat out of necessity as I don't know of any that only use four fingers. I've tried to do my best with a text based medium to do justice to it. Skor's signs may not be completely literal translations of what he's saying; Runaan is interpreting the information into a new language based on Skor's expressions and body language as he speaks, which is something TDP actually does a pretty good job with in Amaya's portrayal as well. It's like with any other new language, you learn its connotations and translate them according to those rather than to the word for word literal translation. Because it's also a language, it uses dialogue tags.

Chapter 12: Followed

Summary:

Andromeda deals with their tracker.

“Anyone else hear that?” Callisto asked idly as they tried to clean up some of the scrapes on their glaive the next morning.  The princes were still asleep, and Rayla had just emerged when they spoke, eyes narrowed and ears pricked and alert.

They’d all heard the rustling in the bushes.  Runaan didn’t bother looking up from his bags yet. “We’re being followed.  Andromeda, Ram, deal with it.  Don’t kill them.  Better to be followed by an enemy we know than to keep hunting down new ones.  But find out how many, exactly, and who sent them.  Keep the maiming and the noise to a minimum, as a little gesture of goodwill.”

“If you want the maiming and noise to a minimum I’m not the one you want to send,” Ram said dryly.

Runaan shot him an irritable look.

“I’ve got it, Runaan,” Andromeda said, smothering a laugh. “I’ll come back if I need help.  Rayla can join me if I need it.” She said, meeting Rayla’s eyes, and sharing a smile with the younger girl.  It felt good to be back on good terms with her again.

Runaan glanced between them and nodded. “Very well.  Be careful.”

“I will.” Andromeda promised, and slipped off into the trees towards the crack of a branch they had heard.  She spotted the branch first, but the shadow in the tree above her didn’t escape her notice.  She smirked to herself, keeping her head angled where her braids would hide it, and glanced around as if confused.  

The rustle in the bushes gave her an excuse to duck out of sight, towards the noise.  She startled the fawn that had been approaching, and took a moment while hidden to crouch and offer her hand soothingly. “You’re all right, little one.” She whispered, and her hand twinged when she held it out.  She smiled sadly at the creature when it licked the slow bruising creeping up her wrist. “Thank you for the thought.  You should scurry now, this might be about to get messy.” She warned, before slipping further into the underbrush.

She made it into the trees, circling loosely around the clearing the tracker had been drawing her towards.  By the time she reached the tree behind where he had been, he was lowering himself down into the clearing, and she’d ascertained he was alone, or at least no one else was close enough to interfere on his behalf.  She smirked as she waited until he hit the ground to leap over to where he’d just been standing, and then when he froze, she dropped down behind him, unfolding her sickles and twirling the curved blade around his throat before he could turn to face her.

He froze, and she watched his shoulders tense, his hands turning his weapon over.  She smiled, keeping her body at a distance, holding the sickle with her good hand as far away from herself as possible. “Drop your weapon,” She said softly, clearly.

He hesitated. “Why should I?”

“The sickle around your neck is quicker than any chain behind you.” She pointed out. “If I wanted to kill you outright, I’d have done it, wouldn’t I?  Drop it.”

Apparently seeing the logic, he carefully let the weapon drop to the ground.  She took a step back, letting her sickle brush his throat. “Now, step away from it.  Wouldn’t want anyone tripping, would we?” She purred.

She heard him take a frustrated breath, but he backed up as she indicated.

“Good boy,” She murmured when she had him where she wanted him, in the middle of the clearing out of reach of his weapon or any trees.  She felt him swallow against her sickle, watched his breath speed up, and smirked broadly. “You like that?  I’m fond of it, myself.  Now keep being a good boy for me and we both get to walk away, how does that sound?”

He swallowed audibly again, holding his hands up where she could see them.  She appreciated the effort though she hadn’t ordered it. “Sounds too good to be true.” 

“I appreciate your honesty,” She replied cheerfully. “So here’s how this is going to go.  I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to keep answering me honestly.”

“Why should I tell you anything?” He demanded stubbornly.

“Well, the sickle around your throat tends to be fairly convincing,” She said mildly. “But if it isn’t, I’ll answer a few of your questions in exchange.  But I caught you first, love, so I get to ask mine first.  Sound fair?”

He sighed hard enough it moved his shoulders, and he turned his head a little bit to answer. “Do I have a choice?”

“You could choose death,” Andromeda told him honestly. “But we’d really rather not use that option, if you don’t force the issue.”

He narrowed his eyes - they were pretty, she noted as she peered over his shoulder and he tilted his head back at her, brown and dark in a way that was uncommon among her people.  Elyrin would like him. “Why not?”

“I get to ask first, remember?” She prodded, though she couldn’t help grinning at his suspicions. “It was clever of you to try and draw one of us out alone.  Weren’t expecting six of us when you caught up, were you?”

“Six?” He echoed, and raised at least the eyebrow she could see, and she noted the scar through it with amusement. “I counted five.”

She laughed softly. “We didn’t bring an extra tent for the children.  You scouted the camp last night after we went to sleep then?  There’s six of us, we’ve just been letting your princes sleep in the tents.”

“You’re sick.” He spat at her with sudden vitriol, and Andromeda blinked at his profile.

“I’ve been called a monster for many reasons,” She said mildly, tilting her head so he could see her face a little better as she arched her own brows at him. “But I’ve never been called sick for letting children sleep in a shelter.  I have to admit, that’s a new one.”

It was always sort of cute when humans bared their flat teeth with anger. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Do you think we’re having them sleep with us?” She asked in disbelief, and laughed a little at the alarm in his eyes. “That’s a very brave accusation from a man with a blade at his throat.  No, darling, they get the tent of the first watch, and we trade through the rest.  Even your stories usually confine us to eating people, and not like that .”

“It’s your season, isn’t it?” He pointed out, and her eyes widened with surprise that he knew that.  All elves had breeding seasons, where they had higher fertility and sex drives, but few humans knew that those seasons varied amongst elves and when they were.

“Oh, you are clever,” She said, blinking. “But no.” It was a bit of a lie, breeding season was only weeks away, and she had been hoping to get home in time for it.  She was missing challenge season for this mission. “And even if it was, they’re children.  That doesn’t do any of us any good.”

He grunted distrustfully. “Why should I believe you?”

“Why shouldn’t you?  What do I have to lose from telling you the truth?” She pointed out. “Now wasn’t I asking questions first?” He fell silent, but she saw the doubt furrow his brows as his eyes wandered to the trees.  She would have to be careful with how she asked him questions. “Now, I already know you haven’t got any backup.  I cased the woods before I engaged you.” He stiffened. “That’s interesting.  You weren’t expecting this many of us.  What was your plan, darling?”

Andromeda kept dropping the names in, amused at how he seemed to flush deeper every time.  Seemed even his hatred didn’t make him immune to her charms, and she preened a little internally at it. “Thought I could pick you off until I could get to the princes.” He admitted after a conflicted sigh and his shoulders dropped a little.

“Very interesting.  I imagine the general doesn’t know there’s six of us, either, or she’d have sent you backup.” Andromeda dropped in her guess about who had sent him, watching his face for his reaction.

As it turned out, she needn’t have been watching so closely, as he nearly flinched, eyes flashing wide, when she said it. “How did you know the general even sent me?” He demanded.

Oh, this poor young man.  Andromeda almost patted his shoulder to console him. “Because I just said it,” She said gently. “And you just confirmed it for me.”

She saw the shame overwhelm his expression and pitied him for a moment as he closed his eyes and grimaced, turning his face away from her. 

“You’re a bit terrible with interrogations then, aren’t you, darling?  Not a soldier, then, just a tracker.” She observed. “You weren’t going to attack us, or you should have done that when most of us were asleep last night.”

“I’m here to free the princes from you,” He growled.

Andromeda smiled. “The princes aren’t prisoners, darling.  They travel with us willingly.”

“That’s a lie.  The king is dead, why would his sons be traveling willingly with assassins?” The tracker demanded.

“Funny how that happened the night we left with the children, long after we left, isn’t it?” She pointed out. “We didn’t plan on taking them, and we didn’t kill the king.  I won’t pretend we weren’t planning on it, but we never got to him.  Everything’s gone to shit, but with what we know now, we want those boys alive as much as you do.” She leaned in close to his ear, satisfied by now that he would be still, and added, close and soft, “You can take that back to the general.”

He shuddered at her breath on his ear. “That doesn’t make any sense.  What do you know?  Why would you want them safe?”

“I’m sure if you keep following us a little longer you’ll find out.” She said mildly, grinning when he twitched, looking at her again from his periphery. “That’s an answer you’ll have to earn, though, darling.”

He frowned over his shoulder, pouting, and she almost laughed at the adorable face. “You haven’t answered any of my questions.”

“I wasn’t done with mine yet.” She defended, still all too amused, and charmed by his sharp attitude.  He reminded her of Elyrin a bit. “So you’re here alone, sent by the general to free her nephews.  You don’t have backup.  Your only goal is to keep the boys safe.” She could ask him when he was next expected to check in, but with the goal to keep him alive and following them, she supposed it didn’t truly matter. “Do you know of anyone else sent after us?” She asked instead, as that was the more important question.

He shook his head with an air of resignation. “I don’t know.”

“Good boy.” She purred, and his back straightened on reflex, and she couldn’t help smirking about it.  Oh, he was cute, for a human.  Her husband would be rolling his eyes at her for bothering to qualify it and encouraging her to tease him more. “Now, I suppose I have a few minutes to answer your questions.”

“Are you going to answer them or are you going to keep dodging the point?” He asked grumpily. 

She laughed in spite of herself. “I have been a bit dodgy, haven’t I?  All right, if you ask again, I’ll clarify one answer for you.  Just one.”

He paused for a long moment, considering which question to ask.  The one he chose sent a chill down her spine, and her smile dropped. “If you didn’t kill the king, who did?”

“I . . . don’t know.  We don’t know.  I swear on our lives on that.” She said seriously. “And as a little bonus, I’ll be truthful - that’s part of why we’re keeping the princes.  We didn’t kill the king - which means someone else must be after them too, for reasons unknown.”

He frowned. “So we may have a common goal.”

“Perhaps.  But we don’t trust you any more than you trust us.  And the princes are with us now.” She pointed out.

“Fair enough.” He admitted over his shoulder, meeting her eyes as he tilted his head back, grudging respect in his careful shrug. “Where are you taking them?”

She didn’t know if that was something Runaan would approve of her sharing.  He had told her to get information from the tracker, and said to offer a little goodwill, but that might be a little too much. “You’ll have to follow us to find out that one, darling, sorry.”

“Why leave me alive?” 

“Call it a gesture of goodwill.  You want the boys alive, and so do we.  We’d rather keep you alive and on our tail than take our chances with someone else who may have less compassion.” Andromeda answered honestly. “But we won’t be making it easy for you.”

He scoffed lightly. “I didn’t expect you to start.”

“Good.” She smirked at his back. “One more question, and then we can part ways.  What’s your name, darling?”

He eyed her distrustfully, but apparently couldn’t find any harm in telling her. “It’s Corvus.”

“Mine’s Andromeda.” She winked at him. “Now face forward and be still.  Count to ten.  I’m going to leave, and when you get to ten, you can go fetch your weapon back and go hide away again until we get moving.  One small word of personal advice, though, Corvus?”

He shuddered at hearing his name and narrowed his eyes at her.

“Don’t try engaging with the others.  One has a mean streak, two are territorial, and the other two can’t be touched without making those ones angry.” She dared to pat his armored shoulder this time. “Stay alive back here, darling - but stay out of our way.  Next time you may not be so lucky.”

Corvus set his strong jaw but nodded carefully around her sickle.  He faced forward when directed to do so, and began counting aloud as she removed her weapon from his throat.  She fled into the trees before he could finish the countdown, successfully vanishing.  For the sake of information gathering, she paused in a tree where she could hide and observe; he actually kept his count slow and steady, and only moved when he was finished with it.  He looked back over his shoulder to where she’d disappeared, looking distinctly off-balanced, but he shook himself and went to fetch his weapon before retreating further from the elves’ campsite.

Good.  Sharp, intelligent, but somewhat inexperienced, and honorable.  This was good.  Andromeda slipped back to camp and trotted back in distinctly pleased with herself.

“Well?” Runaan prompted when she arrived, and looked around to see the princes still asleep.

“Just one,” She reported. “A tracker, not a soldier, sent by the general to free her nephews.  No backup, his orders are just to recover them, not to engage with us.  He’s honorable enough to stick to a deal even when he didn’t know I was still there to enforce it.  Doesn’t know of anyone else coming to follow us alongside him.”

Ram narrowed his eyes at her. “You seem awfully pleased with yourself.”

“Never you mind that.” She said loftily.

“You were flirting, weren’t you?” Callisto called her out with an amused look.

Skor snapped his fingers to get her attention and signed his own commentary with narrowed eyes and a lazy smirk. “Heat hitting you early, sparkles?”

Andromeda tossed her head to rattle the chains on her horns, theatrically, suppressing her own laughter. “It got me answers, didn’t it?  Never underestimate the power of a beautiful woman when your target is a young man who likes that sort of thing.”

Rayla also wrinkled her nose at this, and Runaan scoffed behind a hand as if covering up a laugh.

Just when they were all about to let it go, Andromeda stretched and added, grinning mischievously, “And he is pretty.”

Runaan actually barked a short laugh at that one and she grinned over at him. “You might actually appreciate this one, too, Runaan,” She dared to rib him a bit. “Tall dark and handsome is your style, isn’t it?”

“Is he tall to me or is he tall to you, Andromeda?” He asked mildly, though he was chuckling as he stood up to his full height, crossing his arms as she was reminded that even the tips of her horns only reached to his chest. 

She shrugged. “That is a point.  Tall to me, at least.”

“You’re all awful.” Ram informed them flatly. “Except Rayla, she’s a pure innocent child who doesn’t deserve to be subjected to your nonsense.”

“Innocent?” Rayla squawked, and pointed at Runaan. “Do you know what he gets up to at home?!”

That more than Andromeda’s teasing brought a pink flush to Runaan’s cheeks and he cleared his throat loudly. “That’s quite enough.  We should wake the princes and move on, now that our tracker has been addressed.  Left alive, I trust, Andromeda?”

“Alive and asking himself some hard questions, I would guess,” She grinned back, checking her still pristine nails. 

“Good.” Runaan shook his head, though she caught the smile on his lips. “Pack your tents, we should get moving.”

Rayla went to wake the princes in her place this time, the younger girl giving her a flat look and shooing her when Andromeda went to do it.  She couldn’t help laughing at the censure, and just managed to get it under control before the little ones were awoken and paying attention.  As she put her tent away, she grinned to herself, thinking that Elyrin would enjoy hearing about this little adventure when they made it back to the Silvergrove. 

It would be a welcome distraction from the adjustment of losing her aching hand.

Notes:

Friendly reminder that Runaan is canonically 6'2.5" even without his horns, and towers in at 6'4" (193cm) with them, and towers over even most of the adults of the show - including all of the other assassins.

Chapter 13: Banter

Summary:

The assassins and princes all get a little reprieve as they hike through the mountains.

To make things a little harder for the tracker to find them, Runaan had turned them up an icy slope for a more direct path to Xadia.  Callisto could see the logic, but it didn’t make it any easier on them without their left arm to balance.  They relied a bit on their glaive to keep their footing and could see it getting even harder for the human children to keep up.  While the trail was somewhat harder for them, humans seemed to have more trouble on even the easiest of mountain paths. 

Skor was watching Ezran struggle with a complicated look on his face.  When the boy stumbled, he was the first to help him back up.  As the slope grew steeper and the way grew icier, Ezran started to slip more and more.

“Do you want help?” Skor finally rasped, after helping him up yet again. 

Ezran looked up at him, clearly remembering their conversation from the night before. “Um.  Yeah.  The egg’s heavy though, and it pulls me backward, so - can I, uh . . . I don’t know if this is rude.  Runaan said I could hold onto the horns.”

Skor smiled crookedly at him. “Yes.  Most kids do.  I’ll feel the weight, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay.” 

“Wait, you got a ride from Runaan?” Callum asked, sounding almost flabbergasted as Skor lifted his little brother to his shoulders.  His hair was all swept to the same side, leaving the braid Callisto had given him on display, and Callisto’s heart did something odd and frankly objectionable in their chest at the sight of him with the child. 

Ezran was nodding. “The night we ran from the castle, he carried me so we could run faster.  It was really fun, he’s even faster than Soren!”

“I bet,” Callum agreed with a glance up the trail at Runaan.

Now that they knew who was following them, and didn’t know what was ahead, their leader was up front to forge the path.  Andromeda and Ram could handle a single tracker in the rear.  They didn’t know what was coming next. 

“Keep close together.  If someone slips, I want them caught.” Runaan ordered over his shoulder.

Andromeda was humming a familiar old traveling song as they walked.  She wouldn’t sing it without some prompting, Callisto knew; not with Skor on the mission.  No one sang around him much anymore, which was a shame.  He missed the music.

Ram was still giving her and Runaan unimpressed looks as he followed along.  With the path so narrow, he really wasn’t ranging to the sides, but every time he met Andromeda’s eyes she snickered and he glowered.  Rayla rolled her eyes at both of them and kept pace with Callum.

Callisto wasn’t sure how long they walked, focusing on keeping their breathing even and their footing steady.  Their arm ached in its sling, but they took some comfort in the pain, knowing it was at least still . . . alive.  For now.  The bindings were leaving bruises on the others’ wrists and Runaan’s arm now.  It wouldn’t be long before they lost blood flow to them.

“I’m bored.” Ezran announced, pouting when they looked up at him, and their heart ached abruptly at how he slumped so comfortably between Skor’s large horns, and the fond little smile on Skor’s face when he tilted his head as if to look up at the boy. 

“Just walkin’ is kinda borin’.” Rayla agreed. 

“So we should talk!  Try to get to know each other a little better.” Callum suggested brightly.

Andromeda chuckled. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, Callisto said something on the boat about your horn jewelry being important.” Callum said, and Callisto blinked, mildly surprised he’d actually heard that. “Can we ask about that?”

“Mine’s just decorative.” Ram shrugged, indicating the silver ring that rested on the upper curve of his right horn.

Andromeda shrugged. “My rings are decorative too, and the chains,” she admitted. “But the cuffs Runaan and I wear at the base of them, here -” she pointed them out. “Mean we’re married, that’s probably what they meant.”

Callum nodded along until she said that part and then startled, frowning. “Wait wait, are you saying you two are a thing, or?  Because I thought he said something about Rayla having another father and how he’s also her father, so I just assumed -”

“Not to each other!” Andromeda rushed out as Callisto burst out laughing at the poor boy’s confusion.  Even Skor cracked a smile at that one.   Andromeda and Rayla both looked up to Runaan at the same time as he chuckled, the sound carrying back even to Callisto’s ears.  He must be in decent spirits then. “Not that he’s - well.  We both have husbands back home, not that I would have all that many objections if I didn’t.” Andromeda said, apparently in fine form after her flirty morning.

Maybe her heat really was coming on early.  Callisto pitied her, dealing with that as a mated elf away from home had to be difficult.  It was hard enough for them being alone, especially since their attraction had finally decided to rear itself up a few years ago when they got closer to Skor.

Runaan hummed and didn’t bother looking over his shoulder, but his amused tone was clear enough as he added onto Andromeda’s explanation. “Andromeda is a little young for my taste, and I’ve never had much interest in the fairer sex.”

Callisto snorted, and then barked out a surprised laugh when Skor piped up dryly from beside them. 

“By ‘much’, he means ‘any’.”

Ezran tilted his head curiously at the same time as Skor tilted his head to show his smirk, and Callisto felt very fond of both of them.

“Never understood that, myself,” Andromeda mused. “How one could be so exclusively interested in one thing.”

Runaan finally deigned to cast a grin back at them. “Have you met my husband?” He teased smugly.

“Yes,” Ram said dryly. “And though it may come as a surprise to you, not everyone enjoys feeling dwarfed by their partner.  I know you don’t feel that way around him, but everyone else does.”

Runaan shrugged again. “Your loss.”

“You’re both gross.” Rayla informed him bluntly. “And ye need t’remember to close your bedroom door all the way.”

Even his ears turned red. “ Rayla! ”

She huffed at his back. “It’s your own fault.” She informed him loftily, and Callisto cackled at her snark even as her father stubbornly refused to look back and meet anyone’s eyes.

“Soo, what does your husband do?” Callum changed the subject abruptly by asking Andromeda, looking a tad nervous, and Callisto supposed they couldn’t blame him when Runaan’s shoulders looked that stiff, and a human couldn’t read the mortified flattening of his bright red ears.

Andromeda was still chuckling at Runaan when she turned to face the boy. “We don’t really talk about our families in the forest outside of it,” She hedged gently. “It’s not really our way.”

“Oh.  I’m sorry.  Never mind then.” He said quickly, and Callisto’s respect for the boy went up.  Seemed both princes had been taught to respect the cultures of their allies.  This boded well for them.

Ram took pity on the boy. “That’s rich considering the topic you were all just on Runaan about.” He pointed out.

“Hey, wait,” Rayla cut them off, scowling suddenly as she dug in her pockets.  She held out her vial of moonberry juice, which was empty. “Who drank my moonberry juice?  It wasn’t me!”

“I didn’t do it,” Callum said quickly. 

Rayla narrowed her eyes at him. “Well Ezran’s been on Skor’s shoulders, so I know he didn’t do it,” She said. “Who else would it have been?”

Callum gestured wildly around them. “There’s eight of us!  There’s five other people that could have done it!”

“They all have their own!”

“Well you were just fighting with Ram the other day, maybe he did it.”

“I would never!” Ram sputtered. “If I needed food from anyone else’s packs everyone knows you can just ask Skor.”

“Well I didn’t do it!”

“Children, please.” Runaan said loudly from the head of the trail, and for once his tired tone didn’t even seem to penetrate their ears. 

“Someone must have!” Rayla threw up her hands. 

“How did I end up in this discussion?” Ram wanted to know.

“You didn’t have to keep talking,” Andromeda pointed out.

“For that matter, it could have been anyone!  Didn’t Andromeda borrow your tent last night?” Callum said. 

“Excuse me?” Andromeda yelped.

“Uh, guys?” Ezran said, and Callisto glanced over and followed the boy’s gaze up the slope.  Their eyes widened as they saw the snow beginning to shift above them.  Skor swore under his breath at their side.

It was spring.  It was fucking spring , and they were on an icy slope under an avalanche waiting to happen. “Everyone shut up!” They snapped, hissing quietly.

“Guys!” Ezran barked, louder, and that got everyone’s attention.  Even Runaan paused at the trail head to look back, surprised.  Ezran pointed up the slope at the snow. “All the noise is cracking the ice.  If we don’t quiet down, we could start an avalanche!” Ezran whispered as loud as he could.

“Got it.” Callum squeaked.

“Not a peep.” Rayla agreed. 

“Just for the record, the toad is glowing moonberry red.” Ram pointed out, but his voice had dropped too, and he pointed at Bait.

The glow toad grumbled at them, and Callisto smothered their amusement, suddenly all too aware of their precarious position on the slope. 

“You have no proof!” Ezran protested. 

Callum scooped the toad up to keep talking, and it burped quietly in his face.  He winced. “Yeah buddy, he definitely did it.” He said apologetically.

Rayla huffed in frustration and shoved her empty vial back in her pocket, storming off up the trail.  Callum leaned over towards his brother on Skor’s shoulders. “I think she’s hangry.”

“I’m habsolutely hurious.” Rayla replied, unable to stop the little bit of a smirk pulling at her mouth even as she tried to glower at them.

The glow toad’s digestive issues, however, weren’t quite finished, and being picked up appeared to make them much, much worse.   Suddenly, their lively trek up the mountainside became much, much more dangerous.  The toad burped so loudly it echoed off the mountainsides, and the ice above them cracked - and didn’t stop cracking. 

“I don’t suppose you have a spell for this?” Callum squeaked.

“Nope, just run.” Runaan replied, tense, and whirled around to herd them all towards the down hill path. “Get behind a rock formation and hold positions!” He barked over the building roar of the snow.

Callisto fled with only a glance back to ensure Ezran was still firmly held on Skor’s shoulders. 

Chapter 14: Through The Ice

Summary:

You didn't think I was going to let the lake go, did you?
Runaan deals with several crisis situations at once, and makes a decision about Rayla in the midst of it all.

Runaan could curse himself for being this foolish.  He should have been keeping a closer eye on their surroundings, a better control over his assassins.  Shame burned in his chest at the thought that a child had been the one to shush them successfully, and even that had come too late to actually save them.  He couldn’t shelter them all as they fled down the slope, the rushing snow forcing him to just trust they would all listen to his instructions.  The closest shelter was nearly down to the frozen lakeside, and he bodily dragged the elf nearest him into the lee side of the rock formation, only able to see once there that it was Ram at his side.

He had no real time to process what he was seeing when he turned towards the path before Prince Callum shouted “Aspero!” and began to blow back at the avalanche coming down on him, his brother, Rayla, and Andromeda.

What the hell had happened to Skor, then?  Ezran had been on his shoulders.

“He’ll never make it,” Ram said tensely. “No one’s got that kind of lung capacity, who knows how long the avalanche will last.”

The snow had blocked their path almost as soon as the spell was cast, and it was still rushing, spilling to the sides so quickly Runaan was already knee-deep in it. “We can’t get to them to stop it,” He said woodenly. “We will just have to hope he runs out slowly and they have time to move.”

Under the roar of the snow and how quickly their vision was obscured, he had no idea if it were true.  The minutes stretched on like hours until the sound receded, and he and Ram were able to dig themselves out and back to the surface of the snow.  Skor was clawing his way out of a drift on the other side of the path, past another rock.  He shook his head with his teeth bared when Runaan looked at him. 

“What happened to the prince?” Runaan demanded.

“Tripped.” Skor replied shortly. “Both went slidin’, Rayla had him.”

Rayla.  Where was she?  Where was the egg?  Skor was tugging Callisto out of the drift behind him, but there was no way the children had reached that shelter without leaving some sort of mark in the snow.  Runaan scanned frantically down the slope and spotted Rayla wrestling herself out of another drift and onto her feet.

Thank the Moon she was all right.  

“Is everyone okay?” Prince Callum wheezed from a little lower down. 

“Where’s that hiccupin’ juice thief frog?” Rayla snarled.

The toad appeared from the snow just before Runaan took a step down on the spot, and he just managed to pull his boot back and pick the little creature up.  

“He’s right there, and he’s okay!” Ezran said from even further out - on the ice. “We made it!”

Runaan let Bait down as they got to the edge of the ice, and he, Ram, and Ezran all seemed to notice the egg further out on the lake at the same time.

“I’ll go get the egg!” Ezran volunteered, and as he scurried to get it, Callisto grabbed Runaan’s bruised arm firmly enough to make him flinch.

Before he could ask what that was about, Callisto hissed, “Where’s Andromeda?”

Fuck.  Runaan glanced up the slope and saw no sign of her.  She’d been closest to the children when they began to run.  Had she been with them when the prince tried that spell to hold back the avalanche?  He had hardly been able to see.

“Runaan, over there.” Ram pointed out a hole in the ice, large enough for a grown woman to have fallen through. “The ice is thinning with spring.  Do you think -?”

An ominous crack brought all their attention back over to Prince Ezran, who was frozen with the egg in his arms as the ice began to crack under his feet.

Rarely had Runaan felt quite this helpless.  He glanced down at the ice near the bank, judging quickly that there was no way it would hold his weight, nor Skor’s.  Even Callisto would be terribly risky, and they couldn’t spread their weight out as much with one arm bound to their chest like it was. 

“Hold on Ez, we’re comin’ to get you.” Callum said firmly, and then glanced back at Runaan.

Something in him wanted to protest when the two teenagers - Callum and his daughter - began to scoot their way onto the ice, but it was the right choice.  They were the only ones light enough to maybe make it work, alongside Ram. “Help them.” He ordered the younger man. “All of you, stay low, spread your weight across the ice as much as you can!” He called out to them. “Callisto, Skor and I can’t cross at all, it won’t hold us, so be careful, because we cannot come get you.”

“We’ve got this.” Rayla promised over her shoulder. 

He really hoped they did.  A loud splash made him flinch and brought his attention back to the hole in the ice, where Andromeda had just burst from the water.  She gasped for breath and tried to grasp the edge of the ice, only for it to crumble in her hands.  Even her sickle, when she pulled it out, simply cut through the ice and continued to dunk her back in.

“If we don’t get her out of there fast she’ll freeze,” Callisto snapped at his elbow.

Runaan glanced over at the children, who were carefully getting into position to pass the egg hand to hand back to Ram and get it closer to shore.  Ram had them.  He dug in his packs for a rope and tied it to one of his arrows.  He would have to shoot near enough to Andromeda for her to see it and grab the rope, and then even if the ice continued to break, they could reel her in without continuously fighting the surface as she was doing now. 

When he raised his bow, his folly became clear, as his arm twinged and he nearly dropped it.  The moment he tried to draw the bowblade it became clear his purpose was impossible.  Runaan grit his teeth and switched hands - he wasn’t as precise a shot aiming with his right, but it didn’t matter as long as he could draw it.

He couldn’t.  His left arm simply did not have the strength. “Ram!” He barked, alarm rising in his core as he watched Andromeda continue to struggle to stay afloat. “Slide your bow back across the ice!  The binding is too tight, I can’t draw mine.”

Ram obediently rolled onto his side on the ice, carefully unfolding his bow from its place across his lower back, and slid it back towards shore.  Skor was standing closer and reached out to catch it with his sword, bringing it in closer range, and picked it up to hand it over.

Rayla cried out in the next moment and another terrifying crack split the air.  Runaan’s heart leaped to his throat for a moment.

Relief, for a second, that his daughter was okay.

Terror when he realized the egg wasn’t.

Guilt that he had noticed his own child before the one that might save the world.

Rising horror that it was underwater.

“How could you drop it!” Callum was shouting.

“You know my hand is messed up, I told ye not to throw it!”

“I just tossed it!”

“Runaan, Andromeda.” Callisto shoved him. “Ram has the children, focus on her!” 

How could he ignore this?  Runaan grit his teeth and nocked his arrow to Ram’s bow instead, and even that his arm failed to draw with actual aim. “Andromeda!” He shouted to her, praying she could hear him, though her movements were becoming frantic. “Hold steady, I can’t aim like this.”

Another burst of snow.  A splash of water.  On one side, a human man in a hunter’s clothes ran from the trees to join them on the lakeside.  On the other, Prince Ezran dove into the icy lake.

Focus on what he could handle.

Skor went for the human on the bank, and Callisto barked, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m helping her, since it seems like you guys are all injured somehow,” The hunter said boldly, swinging a unique chained weapon around.

“It could reach her.” Callisto admitted, low and aside to Runaan.

Every second they were underwater was a countdown.  Andromeda had been in it the longest.  She needed help, but he couldn’t save her in favor of the egg; the Dragon Queen would kill them all anyway and the efforts would be in vain if it died.

“Skor, keep him honest.” Runaan ordered, and pointed to the hunter. “Do it.  Callum!” He called across the ice, turning his attention back to the children. “Your wind spell - clear the snow from the surface of the ice!  Maybe then we can see something useful!”

“The wind - oh, the wind spell!” Callum straightened up abruptly. “I can do that!”

He blew the snow off the ice as the hunter threw his chain weapon to the ice near Andromeda.  She couldn’t quite reach it, and no one saw Ezran at first.  As she clumsily twirled one of her sickles out to tangle it in the chain, Rayla and Callum bolted to another spot and Ram reported, “I see them!  Ezran has the egg!”

They weren’t out of danger yet.  Rayla and Callum darted to another unbroken patch of ice and she cut her way through it.  If she missed even a little, she could collapse the ice under herself as well, and Runaan felt sick in his core at the very idea of it.  He didn’t realize he was praying out loud until Callisto rumbled, “She’ll be fine, Runaan.  She’s a grown woman.”

She helped Callum tug Ezran and the egg out of the water and just collapsed there, lying down as he’d warned, her whole body heaving with exertion and anxiety and Runaan’s heart cracked in two as he saw it. “No.” He rasped. “She isn’t.”

Andromeda, across the ice from them, also managed to make it to the surface, and she coughed up water, shaking visibly, as the human stopped pulling on her to let her try and get her breath back.  She collapsed onto the ice once she could breathe again, visibly trembling. 

“Get her to shore.” Runaan snapped at the human and Skor. “Rayla, Callum, Ezran!  You three need to get to safety.  Stick to the ice that’s hardest to see through, that’s where it will be thickest.  How is Ezran?”

“He’s okay,” Callum reported. “A little sleepy, and really cold, but he’s breathing, not coughing up any water.”

“Keep him awake,” Callisto shouted. “Whatever happens he has to stay awake.  We need his body temperature up.” They were already shrugging off their jacket and packs and rummaging through them. “Ram, we’ll need your spare clothes!”

“I thought so.” Ram said as he tried to shuffle his way back to shore.

“Ram, wait!” Rayla called. “I’m gonna roll the egg to you, you need tae roll it to shore.  It’s too heavy to take with us, the ice keeps cracking more.”

At least that handoff went smoothly enough.  Callisto’s jacket was wrapped around the egg in place of the prince’s pack, and they pulled it away from the shore, tucked it into a small alcove of piled snow where it would hopefully remain above freezing.  Runaan shrugged off his own jacket - it was the largest one they had, and the prince would need a covering to change out of his wet clothes into Ram’s spares.

Andromeda made it to shore first.  She didn’t even try to stand upon being dragged onto solid ground, just let her sickle fall from her death grip and lay shivering for a moment.  Skor abandoned the tracker, kneeling beside her to help her sit up and wrap his jacket around her shoulders.

Ezran, Callum, and Rayla made it at the same time, and Runaan wrapped both boys in his coat. “Here, we need to get you two warm again.” He rumbled. “Callum, I need you to strip your brother out of those wet clothes.”

“You want to make him colder?” Callum protested.

“Water holds the freeze more than air,” Callisto explained urgently. “I promise ye, lad, the wet clothes will make him much colder than bein’ bare for a second will be.  Ram’s got a spare change of clothes for him.”

“It’ll be too big,” Ram said even as he handed it under the coat Runaan had wrapped around them. 

Callisto grunted. “Too big is better than wet in these temperatures.”

“Okay.” Callum said, after looking from Callisto to Runaan, and he set to work.  

Runaan left the boys in Callisto’s capable hands - well, hand - and turned to his daughter. “Rayla-”

He didn’t even get through her name before she burst out, “I’m sorry.  This was all ma fault, I knew my hand was messed up.  Callum’s right, I should ha’ just caught it with my other arm, but I didn’t, and now Ezran’s hurt and this all -”

“Rayla!” He cut her off, and felt the despondent look she gave him like a knife in his chest. “This was just the most recent in a string of bad luck,” He said firmly. “You were just the latest victim.  I’m not angry with you.” She was a child.  Her eyes were welling up with tears she so rarely shed.  She was a child . “We will talk more later,” He settled for saying, as there were far more urgent things to worry about than his decision. “For now, I’m just glad you’re safe.” He opened his arms and she leaned forward tentatively, and when he wrapped her in a hug she burrowed into his chest.  He crushed her tight to his body and closed his eyes for a moment.

He should never have brought her here.  The vitriol of the village against her for her parents’ betrayal wouldn’t have been worse than what he had put her through here in Katolis.  This was too much to ask of her - of any of these children.

“What about the egg?” Rayla asked quietly into his shirt.

Runaan glanced over his shoulder, blood running cold at how dim the egg shone. “I don’t know, darling.  I don’t know yet.”

“Andromeda?” She suddenly lurched a little away from him, still clinging but far enough she could look around for her friend. “Andromeda, is she okay?”

“Andromeda?” He prompted, and looked over to where Skor was holding a blanket up for the woman’s privacy, mostly from the children and the human.  They’d all been on the road together long enough that physical privacy was a bit of a pipe dream.

Skor frowned too and looked over the blanket at her. “Andromeda,” He rasped, and then abruptly dropped to one knee, draping the blanket over her. “Andromeda, talk tae me.  Stay awake.”

Fuck. “We need shelter, and a fire,” Runaan said firmly, glancing about at the group. “Ram, scout something out for us.”

“I’ll help him,” The human volunteered, cutting him off before he could even begin to voice anything else.

“You will stay where I can see you,” Runaan snapped back, hackles rising at the stranger moving too quickly near his wounded family. 

The hunter squared his shoulders and stared him down. “I can help.  Right now, we have the same goal in mind, right?  We both want the princes safe, and that means shelter, and a fire.”

“Humans lie,” Runaan spat, eyes narrowing, shifting to put Rayla behind him. “Why should we trust you?”

“I just saved your friend!” The human pointed at Andromeda, frustration making his movements jerky.

“Which is why you aren’t dead yet .” Runaan snapped back. “I don’t know why you saved her, which means it’s far from a reason to trust you.”

“You have my word,” The human argued. 

“Your word means nothing to me.”

“Runaan.” Callisto said sharply, and he looked over at his friend at the tone. “Skor and I are needed here, and so’s Rayla, for her packs at least - any extra clothes we can salvage for these two are somethin’.  Ram will need help.  Either he goes, or there’s no one left here to watch him anyway.  Ram can take care of himself against one man.”

As much as Runaan hated to admit it, with every nerve in his body screaming to eliminate the stranger from the situation to keep his family safe, he had to concede Callisto’s logic. “Fine.” He growled, glowering distrustfully at the hunter. “Go.” To Ram, he added, “Defend yourself by whatever means necessary.”

“I will.” Ram promised, and looked over at the hunter to arch a brow. “Come on then, pretty boy.”

“My name is Corvus.” The human said roughly as he began to follow Ram away, his boots crunching so much further into the snow than Ram’s.  Humans were so heavy-footed.

“It’s cute that you think I care about that.” Ram said blandly. “Come.  We have work to do.”

To the side, Skor was still urging Andromeda to talk.  Young Ezran was almost dressed again.  Callisto bared their teeth anxiously as Rayla dug through her packs, and Runaan kept his blades at the ready in case of anything else that might want to take advantage of their wounded.

Luckily, nothing did, and by the time Ram returned, both Andromeda and Ezran were somewhat back on their feet.  Andromeda leaned heavily on Skor, and Runaan simply carried Ezran to the cave their scouts had found.  The human had lit a fire while Ram reported to them.

As the child and the woman and all their clothes and the contents of her pack were settled around the fire to dry, Runaan finally took a moment to rub the stress from his face, arm aching, and wonder how much worse things were going to get.  If they failed here - if his mistakes led to the egg’s death before it could make it home - the best case scenario was that they all disappeared.  They could never go home.  That was the best solution and it felt like his heart ripping from his chest as he thought of Ethari, left alone in the Silvergrove.

The worst, though, was that they did return, or news of the egg did.  News of his failure did.  The dragon queen would raze Moonshadow Forest to the ground as the price for his crimes.

Even if the egg survived, he still carried the guilt for bringing Rayla along on this mission.  He had been trying to spare her a lifetime of pain and shame brought on by her parents’ abandonment.  It had been misguided.  Ethari had tried to tell him.  She was too young.

They were all too young to have the world riding on their shoulders, and yet, no matter how hard he tried to shelter them, the concept of a peaceful future truly did ride upon them.

He would not let this human fuck it up any more than he himself already had.  He narrowed his eyes at the tracker. 

Somehow, he had to make sure the egg survived, and the princes delivered it to Xadia - and that Rayla returned to the Silvergrove alive.  Andromeda deserved to go home alive, too - she’d been so looking forward to this season’s heat, to trying for a baby this year.  He had to try and get her that chance.

Everything really had gone to shit over and over.  As Callisto sent Rayla out to search for moonberries, sootheberries, and bogey berries, Runaan just watched her go and prayed that just one fucking thing could go right this time.

Chapter 15: Hard Decisions

Summary:

Runaan and Rayla have a soft moment at night, and then a hard conversation come morning.

They didn’t erect the tents properly in the cave that night.  Instead, Runaan and Skor had spread the walls up around the edges of the cave, making nests out of their combined blankets and settling Andromeda, Ezran, and the egg close together to get warm.  Callum cuddled with his brother for the body heat until Callisto deemed him well enough to be left alone.

Without their separate bedrolls, all of the elves seemed to settle readily enough to cuddling up with each other.  Skor lay apart from the others with Callisto in the curve of his body.  Ram remained near enough to Andromeda to touch, sharing his heat with her.  Rayla found herself wrapped in Runaan’s blanket and under his arm like she was a child again. 

She woke up halfway through the night to the sounds of the others shifting around, a low growl from Ram as the human man - Corvus - moved too much and settled back down in his bedroll.  He’d been placed where Skor and Callisto were between him and the entrance to the cave, and the rest of them were between him and the human princes.  Though everything settled quickly, she was aware Runaan wasn’t asleep by the way he shifted in response to the noise, as if getting ready to sit up.

“Runaan?” She whispered.

He settled back down in the blanket and petted her hair with the hand that had been across her shoulders. “I’m here, little blade.” He murmured.

“You said we needed to talk later.” She said hesitantly. 

He sighed through his nose and tucked her more carefully under the blanket. “We  do, but . . . I don’t quite know how to say it all yet.”

Rayla grimaced. “That bad?”

Runaan shifted to press a kiss to the top of her head, nudging her horns gently, leaving his scent in her hair, and she felt very small suddenly beside him. “Yes.  I owe you an apology, Rayla, for so many things, and there are other things you deserve to know that I . . . had not figured out for myself yet.  I’m not angry with you, little blade.  I’m furious with myself.”

The news took her by surprise and she frowned, pulling away to look up at him. “But you didn’t do anything wrong.  I’m the one who messed up.”

Runaan just gave her a very soft look and shook his head. “You’ve made mistakes,” He allowed. “But I have made choices that harmed you, and all of us, and you deserve an apology and some honesty about that.  Right now I am just . . . worried.”

“About Andromeda?  Or the egg?” Rayla asked, still concerned, but she settled back down a little.  Runaan was just as stubborn as she was and she wasn’t likely to make any progress arguing with him directly. 

“Both.” he admitted. “Callisto is optimistic, I think she’ll be all right eventually, but being forced to rely on a human for her rescue . . .” He shook his head. “Perhaps it won’t bother her as much as it would bother me.  As for the egg . . .” He grimaced. “We will talk about that in the morning.  The stakes are so high, everyone should be aware of them.  Get some sleep, little blade.  I’m here.”

Rayla bit her lip and settled herself back down cuddled up to his side. “You should get some sleep too.” She reminded him, and he huffed softly as he curled towards her in response.

“I will try, Rayla.  Now close your eyes, elfling, hush.” He hummed softly and despite her automatic rebellion when he called her an elfling, the soothing noise soon brought her persistent sleepiness back to the present and she fell asleep.

 

Morning brought a chill and Rayla curled up tighter against it before realizing she was alone under the blanket.  Blinking her eyes open, she felt for where Runaan had been, and found his spot freshly cooling, so at least he hadn’t been gone long.  She peeked out of the blanket at the rest of their little camp just in time to see him duck past Callisto to get outside.  Skor was kneeling by the fire, tending it with one eye on Corvus, who was still asleep.  Even most of the other elves appeared to still be sleeping, with Ram having edged closer to Andromeda and Callisto clearly drowsy in place.  The princes were also dead to the world. 

Rayla wiggled out from the blankets regretfully to follow her father.  His troubled words from the night before sat heavy in her chest and she had to get answers.  She followed his tracks through the snow to the nearest stand of trees. “Runaan?” She asked, growing closer to them.

He was adjusting his coat when he stepped out of the shadows and his eyes were curiously soft when he looked at her. “Did I wake you, little blade?” He asked.

“The cold woke me.” She shook her head, hedging it a bit, as she rubbed her own arms and somewhat regretted not bringing a coat of her own.

“So yes.” He smiled faintly, seeing right through her, and she smiled weakly in response. “I’m sorry, Rayla.”

She shifted back and forth on her feet. “You said we needed t’ talk.”

The smile faded from his lips and he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose over his tattoos. “I suppose there’s . . . no easy way to get through it.  Walk with me?” He invited, turning his steps back towards the shelter of the trees.

Rayla scurried after him, walking in step instead of at his heel as she had as a child, and looked up at his troubled face with her own brows furrowed. “What’s goin’ on?” She asked.

“I owe you an apology, and several explanations.” Runaan said carefully. “But before I begin, Rayla . . .” He sighed. “I need you to know that I do believe in your strength and capability.  You are an incredibly talented young elf, and you -” He broke off and shook his head. “No, that statement stands on its own.  You are incredibly strong, and talented, and capable, and I do not wish for you to doubt that I believe every bit of that.”

“Runaan, you’re scarin’ me.” Rayla said bluntly, laying her ears flat as she looked up at his profile. 

“That’s exactly what I mean, Rayla.” Runaan grimaced. “You shouldn’t have to be afraid because I gave you a compliment.” He glanced around and spotted a rock formation where the snow had melted away, and sprang up it to sit down, beckoning for her to sit beside him.  She followed him reluctantly, and when he put out his hands, she laid hers in them, cautiously. 

“I’m not afraid because of the compliment.” Rayla told him firmly. “I’m scared because I can hear the ‘but’ comin’ up.” She ducked a bit to make the point, looking up at him past her brows. 

Runaan sat as straight as always but he tilted his head at her with one of those soft little looks that had been making her feel safe and loved since she was eight. “But,” He acknowledged gently. “There are things that I have been wrong about, and you deserve to know that I understand that.”

She clenched her hands where he was holding them, and bit her lip. “What do you mean?” She asked with dread forming a pit in her stomach.

“Do you remember what I told you that morning in Katolis, after we discovered the guard had survived?” Runaan asked gently. 

Rayla flinched. “That I put everyone in danger?” She guessed, the scolding burned into her memory. “That I needed t’stay out of the way, and then go home?” She stiffened. “You can’t tell me t’stay out of the way here, Runaan.  I’m tryin’, I swear-”

“Rayla, no.” Runaan said firmly, squeezing her hands reassuringly. “That is not what I meant.  What I wanted you to remember was when I said what happened was my fault, not yours.” He met her gaze steadily when she snapped her jaw shut. “You were not ready.” He said, patient, and though she burned wanting to contradict him, he kept talking with a little helpless shrug. “I should have known that.  It is my job to know that, both as your leader and as your father.  And I failed you.  I have placed far too much pressure on your shoulders before you were ready for it, and you are not to blame for buckling under it.”

“Y’ haven’t failed me,” Rayla protested. “You’re the one who’s kept us all goin’ all this time!  You got the other assassins t’ join us, ye -”

“Supported you, when you found a solution to my mistakes.” Runaan cut her off softly, and ducked his head to get closer to her level, as she flinched.

“You mean my mistakes,” She corrected. “I’m the one that didn’t kill that guard.  I should ha’ been ready!  You’ve trained me for this, I took the oath, my heart for Xadia!  An’ I couldn’t go through with it.”

Runaan waited for her to finish before giving a slow sigh and closing his eyes briefly, before meeting her gaze again. “Ethari and I had a fight before we left.” He said softly.

“I know.” She winced.  She didn’t know what they’d fought about, but . . . Runaan was raising his brows at her and she elaborated. “He always makes you tea before y’ leave, but he didn’t hand you your mug this time.  He didn’t drink any either.”

He closed his eyes briefly again with a little scoff under his breath. “Nothing gets past you,” He said almost dryly, but too warm to have much humor in it. “We were fighting about the mission.  He told me you weren’t ready.  I told him I thought you were.  I was lying to myself as much as to him, but that doesn’t make it true.”

“You weren’t-” Rayla protested.

“I was,” Runaan said firmly. “Rayla - I know how this is going to sound for a moment, and I am asking you, please, let me finish, and listen to it all before you settle on a reaction.  Please.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, felt the way his hands tightened on hers, the furrow of his brows, and bit her lip.  She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” Runaan’s eyes dropped to their joined hands for a moment, turning her left wrist gently to look at the bruises creeping into view. “I told myself I believed you were ready, but it wasn’t that you were ready.  It was that I believed I could carry you through this mission whether you were ready or not.

“Children are expected to learn from their parents, to mirror them.  I saw how the village began to treat you after your parents’ betrayal.  When the Dragon Queen gave me this mission, and told me to form a team, I thought I had an opportunity to spare you your parents’ shame and the village’s hatred.  This was supposed to be simple; it didn’t matter if you were ready or not, the rest of us could get you through.  Even if you made mistakes, so long as you survived you would have a hand in taking vengeance for their betrayal, so you would have the opportunity to live with my honor and not their shame.

“It was incredibly arrogant, and selfish, of me.  I tried to carry you through repairing something that wasn’t mine to fix, and now you suffer from my failures as well as their faults.” Runaan met her eyes again, and squeezed her hands very gently. “None of this has been your fault, Rayla.  Even your mistakes.  You are incredibly strong, capable, and talented, and one day you will be able to handle anything this world throws at you, please know that I believe that.  But you should not have to, not yet, and I have placed you in a position where you are ashamed of your own kind heart.  That should never have happened.  In all my years spent killing in cold blood, what I have done to you may be the crime I carry the most guilt for.  I am unimaginably sorry , Rayla.” He took a deep, slow breath, and nodded a bit to her to let her know he was finished.

The problem was, she didn’t know how to respond anymore.  She had been ready to argue with him that she was capable, she was ready, he was wrong about her, that she could do this.  She hadn’t been prepared for him to confess to feeling so guilty for pressuring her.  She looked down in confusion, staring at the way he cupped her hands so gently in his gauntlets.  How small her hands looked in his.  He was a large man, she knew, but she still felt like a child next to him sometimes.

“Do you think I’m too young for this?” She asked finally, without looking up. “Are y’ gonna tell me I need t’ just go home again?”

“No, Rayla.” He said with a sigh. “Because darling, you are ready for this .  You were not ready to hold a life in your hands and to end it.  But saving a life?  Darling you have been ready for that since before you were mine.” He let go of one of her hands to gently touch her chin, urging her face up to look him in the eye. “The mission we are on now is one that you found for us.  Saving other young lives is something you have been doing since the very first blood moon you spent in my home.”

She bit her lip as she recalled it.  She’d protested for a while after the Blood Moon that he had saved her, he and Ethari, that she couldn’t take credit for saving any of them.  But she still had shell from the coast on her shelf in her room that Suroh had given her as thanks, and they had pointed out that over and over again until she believed it that they never would have saved Suroh’s family if she hadn’t forced them to pay attention.  In a way, she supposed this was the same, on a much larger scale.  She had found another young life in danger and forced Runaan’s hand to helping her save them. 

“I was not ready to admit it until I heard you take the guilt for the accident on the ice.” Runaan said softly. “When I thought I might lose you to it.  No one could have predicted how that would go, and you are hurt .” He held up her aching, bound hand with his unbound one, very gently. “Because somewhere up the line, a mistake was made, and I bound you to a mission that was never possible in the first place.  I still do not know how this happened, but you have found us a path that we never would have.  I will support you along every step of this path.”

She tried to drop her eyes and her chin hit his fingers again, and she didn’t push away from it, just directing her eyes down to his damaged shoulder pauldron instead of his face. “You said my betrayals stand on their own,” She pointed out. “That I’d have t’ earn your trust again.  An’ you were right.  I should have just killed that guard to begin with, and then - not put everyone in danger.”

“I am not here to play the what-if game, Rayla, but . . . if you need to follow that reasoning through?  All right.”

Her eyes snapped back up to his face in surprise at his gentle tone.

“If you had not had mercy on that poor soul in the forest,” Runaan said carefully. “Been true to the kind heart that drives you, we would all still be running back to Xadia with arms bound to an impossible task.  We would not know why.  The egg would still be lost.  And the little boy healing in that camp would have died for nothing.”

Rayla sucked in a breath as it hit her in the chest, the idea that they would have killed Ezran - they would have killed him, never rescued the egg, and it wouldn’t have helped.  It wouldn’t have even freed them.

“Everyone had a right to be upset, because you did not know what would happen.” Runaan said evenly. “But . . . once again, that failure rests on my shoulders, not yours.  I knew you weren’t ready, if I had been honest with myself, and with you.” He smiled weakly. “If I had listened to Ethari when I should have, instead of much, much too late.  You have forged a brighter path out of my failure with your kindness, and that is what I want you to take away from this conversation.  You are still a child.  But that does not mean you are incapable, or weak, or wrong.  It means that you deserve grace, and room to grow, and I have stifled your heart too much by placing you too far ahead of where you are.”

Rayla bit her tongue, searching his face for a hint of what this would mean.  Her skin burned despite the cold, terrified of what happened next. “So . . . what are y’ gonna do?” She asked, brittle. 

“I’m going to give you that grace, and space.” Runaan promised. “I’m not going to treat you like you’re an elfling again, except where you need it.  You are fifteen, not five.  There are many things you are very capable of, and I never want you to doubt that.  But you deserve to be treated gently, too.  You deserve to be spared the weight of the world on your shoulders.  That is what I am for, as long as I am here, to take the weight you are not ready for.  You deserve to be protected, not pushed, when you are at the end of your rope.  That is what I am promising you.  That I will be here to support and protect you, not push you over.”

The idea that she needed protection, that she needed him to take care of her still, rankled in her chest, but . . . her eyes burned, too, as she looked down, and he let go of her to take her hand again and allow it.  She couldn’t quite bring herself to pull her hands away, staring down once again at how his large gauntlets cradled her less armored hands so gently. “I feel like you’re pushin’ me away ,” she confessed without looking up at him. “Like you’re sayin’ I’m not good enough for this, for you .  Ye didn’t defend me to Skor, an’ now-”

“I thought you knew, and I am sorry I never said it to you directly before.” Runaan cut her off, voice firmer again. “Rayla, you have been my family since the day you were born, darling.  I spent so long failing to quantify how out of respect for . . . for Lain.”

She flinched at the sound of her father’s name, looking up at Runaan in shock that he spoke the name of the Ghost. “He’s a Ghost.”

“I know.” Runaan said patiently. “But before that, he was my brother in all but blood.  He was your father.  He was an elf we both loved dearly, as was Tiadrin.  And I thought . . .” His breath shook when he sighed, looking down again. “I thought one day they would return and take you away, and I could not bring myself to call you mine as long as I was meant to be a temporary guardian.  And I have . . . I feel so many things about them, and I have kept that to myself because you deserve to have your own journey, and it isn’t your responsibility to manage my emotional needs.  It isn’t that I don’t care, or that I didn’t feel as though you were my daughter long ago.  Like so many other things I felt it should come on your terms, especially after their betrayal, and then - then that woman had ten arrows pointed at you and I couldn’t wait.  You needed to know.”

Rayla wiggled her fingers in his hands, fiddling with the buckles on his gauntlets. “When did you realize?” She asked softly. “I don’t know if I remember  . . . when I started thinking of you as my parents.  I still think of you by name.”

“I don’t know when I began thinking of you as my daughter, for certain.  It happened slowly.” Runaan admitted. “But I remember the day I realized you felt the same.  When you came to me about your staining ceremony.  You never even mentioned your parents’ names.  You never considered they might return for something that important.  You never even asked what colors they used, to mirror them.  That was when I knew.”

Had she really never thought about them?  Rayla felt a pang in her heart at the realization, as her staining ceremony had been before their betrayal.  She remembered asking him, though, remembered sitting with him at the kitchen table while Ethari was at his workshop, discussing how her hair would be washed, how the staining would be applied to her horns, and how he would paint the patterns onto their length.  They had sketched out several different styles for her to pick from, and she’d chosen the simple wood grain lines that mirrored his, and the same pink dye he used, and he’d looked so soft and so proud. 

She wasn’t sure she even remembered what color her parents had stained theirs.

“I love you, Rayla.” Runaan said softly. “That is why I needed to have this talk with you.  I love you, and I am so proud of you.  I know this must feel like a . . . retraction, or a rejection of what I have told you before, and I am so sorry for that.  I just felt it was more important to be honest with you than consistent, especially when your life is on the line.  I have been acting as your leader, and not as your father, and it is just - too soon for that.  Let me act as your father more than your leader.  That is all I am asking of you.”

Rayla took a deep, shaky breath, and looked back up at his face.  She searched his gaze, finding only a seriousness and sincerity, and a pain so deep-seated that it startled her.  He meant it.  All of it. “Promise me ye won’t just bench me because I’m too young.” She challenged anyway. “That y’ won’t start actin’ like I can’t do anythin’, because you know I’m good.”

“I promise.” Runaan said simply. “I know how capable you are, Rayla.  You just deserve time before you must take the world on your shoulders.”

She bit her tongue, still staring at him for a moment, and squeezed his hands for reassurance, something in her eased by his return squeeze even though he was causing her anxiety. “Okay,” She said with a rush of breath. “I’ll . . . I’ll try to be okay with that.”

“Thank you.” Runaan didn’t ask her forgiveness, she noticed, even when he shifted to open up his posture a little more. “Will you let me hold you a moment before we return to the others?”

Wordlessly, Rayla let go of his hands and shifted closer, wrapping her arms around his ribs as he tucked her in against him like he always did.  She was nearly completely sheltered in his arms when he bent over her for a hug.  Both of their breaths were shaking by the time he let her go, and when she looked up she was irrationally grateful to see his eyes as wet as her own. 

She didn’t know what this would mean, exactly, but . . . if he was willing to still let her prove herself, then she could handle it.  Especially if it meant so much to him.  Ram had been right about something going on, she supposed, though this seemed far more based in Runaan’s actions than hers than she had expected.  She would need to think about this more.

“Rayla?” Runaan called her attention again as they hopped down from the rock together.  She looked up at him curiously. “I love you, my daughter.” He said simply, firmly. “And I am proud of you.  Never doubt that.”

The thing was, she was starting to believe him.  Rayla smiled weakly back at him. “Thanks, Dad.”

A shudder ran through him at the name and he smiled softly back, and they trekked back to camp together.  She still wanted a little space to think, but . . . she felt better about it all than she’d been afraid of, at least.

Of course, once they returned, they’d need to figure out what to do about the egg, and despite his reassurance, she still felt bad for her arm giving out and dropping it into the ice.  Maybe it hadn’t been entirely her fault, maybe it had been an accident, but it had still happened.  What she was going to do next about Runaan had to be secondary to what they were all doing next about the egg. 

For all he’d told her to let him shoulder the weight of the world for her, she still felt it pressing in on her shoulders when they reentered the cave and saw the dull shine of the dragon’s egg.  It rested upon all of them, and nothing Runaan could say would change that.

Chapter 16: The Cave

Summary:

Corvus is very confused. The princes and assassins explain a few things. He's mostly on board, but now he's also worried, and he will still have to earn the elves' trust.

Notes:

Sorry about the delay on this one. My truck broke down and I found out it needs a very expensive repair that my normal mechanic can't even do, so I had to dig up the money and find somewhere else to take it, and that was pretty much my whole weekend. It's still not fixed, but there's a plan, and hey, the chapter's done now!

Corvus really wasn’t sure what to make of the situation.  He’d tried to sleep lightly, to stay aware of the elves around him, but he couldn’t let himself fall to exhaustion when he was trying to escape with the princes, and they didn’t seem inclined to kill him, so eventually he had to succumb to tiredness.  This had all become rapidly out of control, and he was still confused about what was going on.

They had killed the king, but somehow, convinced the princes to travel with them willingly?  There was a large egg - he assumed it was a dragon egg - with them, and he had no idea where it had come from or why they all had it.  The princes trusted them, and for some reason, it seemed the woman - Andromeda - had been telling him the truth, that they were protecting the boys.  They had gone to significant efforts to help Ezran, to make sure both boys were safe after the incident on the ice.  It had been no fault of theirs that the avalanche had hit them all, and they’d suffered for it too.  One of them had even been giving Ezran a ride on his shoulders.

Andromeda hadn’t harmed him when she caught him following.  They hadn’t even tried to stop him or warn him off.  Their leader also hadn’t killed any of the soldiers that were attacking him at the river, and had turned and fled once the children were out of reach rather than going down fighting as Moonshadow elves were generally known to do.

The leader - Runaan, he thought they had called him? - had slipped out of the cave a little while ago.  The girl who had been sleeping with him, the one he’d called his daughter at the Banther Lodge, had followed him not long afterward.  Andromeda was awake across the cave now, stirring but clutching one of her hands close to her chest with a sleepy grimace.  He could see bruising creeping up her wrist past the short glove she wore on that hand, which was mirrored on the other younger elves’ hands.  One of the older ones had that arm in a sling, so he couldn’t tell, and the one who had threatened him yesterday wore gauntlets that covered too much to be sure.  Their leader’s left arm had similar bruising on his bicep under the silver ribbon that they all seemed to wear.  It was obviously something magical, but what did it mean?  Why would they wear something that obviously caused them harm?

It didn’t matter.  He had to remember what he came here for.  He just needed to get the princes alone long enough to find a way to escape with them.  No matter how kind the elves appeared to be for now, he couldn’t forget how dangerous they were, even wounded.  He couldn’t even be sure they all were wounded.  The one threatening him the night before certainly didn’t seem to be reacting to any kind of pain where he was kneeling by the fire, feeding it with his right hand.

Somehow, Corvus was well aware the elf was watching him, or at least paying attention to him, despite how he didn’t look up and his hair fell over the nearest eye.

The princes were waking up.  Callum woke first, stretching and then carefully removing himself from the large coat the boys had been wrapped in instead of the blankets that had been used to cover the entrance.  He tucked his younger brother back in gently and crept over past the fire where he could lean on the wall, near the elf with the broken arm and Corvus.

“Morning,” Corvus greeted, unsure what else to say, not quite able to call it a good morning to the boy’s face.

“Good morning,” Callum said as if startled, straightening his back abruptly and then giving Corvus a sheepish sort of grin.  He was already fiddling with his charcoal, his sketchbook halfway to his lap. “Um.  Hi.  What’s your name again?”

Corvus smiled reassuringly, sitting up cross-legged to face him. “It’s Corvus.  Your aunt Amaya sent me.”

To his surprise, this didn’t seem to reassure the prince much. “Right.”

Corvus showed the boy his palms. “It’s okay.  Right now the important thing is we make sure your brother is okay.  Then I’m supposed to bring you home safely.” It wasn’t news - he was sure Andromeda had told the other elves what he wanted before, and sure enough none of them reacted to his words.  Andromeda herself was yawning and sat up in her place, rubbing her bruised hand

“Oh.  We’re not going back to Katolis.” Callum said bluntly and looked down at his sketchbook, opening it up and beginning to draw as if what he’d said made some sort of sense.

Blinking, Corvus couldn’t help spreading his hands in confusion. “Look, Prince Callum, I know things are probably scary right now, surrounded by assassins in an isolated cave, but -” wait, how was he going to finish that sentence while also surrounded by assassins in an isolated cave?

“I told you,” Andromeda yawned, patting her mouth tiredly.  She stretched, standing up slowly before sinking back down into her blanket and pulling it around her bruised arm. “The princes are traveling with us willingly.”

“After you kidnapped them.” Corvus retorted, indignantly.

“Callum?” young prince Ezran mumbled, rolling over and then blinking blearily over at them. “Oh.” He yawned. “What’s going on?”

Callum dropped the conversation immediately, setting his sketchbook and charcoal aside to go back to his brother. “Hey, buddy.  You feeling alright?”

“I’m okay.” Ezran sniffled and wrinkled his nose, looking down at himself. “But why am I in someone else’s clothes?” He squinted down at the fabric. “Ram’s clothes?”

The elf with the broken arm, who seemed to be the healer, gave a tired groan and finally sat up from their bedroll. “We needed t’ get you dry so you could warm up.  Cold kills fast when it’s wet.”

Ezran paled a bit and squeezed Callum’s arm where it was slung around him. “Right.  Thanks.”

“Your clothes should be about dry by now, and there’s a blanket hung in the back of the cave you can use to change.  I do want those back.” The shortest of the adult elves other than Andromeda said, tone not unkind as he nodded to the boy, pointing out where Ezran’s clothes had been spread out near the fire to dry. 

“Oh.  Thanks Ram.” Ezran wriggled free of the coat wrapped around him and his brother’s arm, and stumbled a bit fetching his own clothes from the sheer length of the pants around his legs.  Ram helped him up, as did Callum when he stumbled again on his way back to change.

Why were they being so gentle with the princes?

“Speaking of the cold,” the healer said, looking over at Andromeda. “How about you?  How’s the hand?”

Andromeda shrugged. “Mostly I’m warm again.  The bound hand is still chilly, though.  I can’t seem to warm it up.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Can you move it?”

Andromeda held her hand up and flexed the fingers easily enough, though she winced with the movement. “Yeah, still moving.”

“Good.  Y’ haven’t lost blood to it entirely.” The healer frowned, and scrubbed their face tiredly with their good hand. “But if it’s still cold it’s not enough.  The whole arm could start to die off.”

Shrugging helplessly, Andromeda said, “Isn’t it going to fall off anyway?”

“The hand, yes, and the binding will keep the death from that below it, but if the arm above your binding starts to die off from the cold, there might be nothin’ I can do until it’s too late.” The healer said, still frowning.

Andromeda winced. “Ah.  Right.”

Ezran emerged from the back of the cave straightening his quilted jacket with a wrinkle of his nose and offered the clothes back to the elf he’d called Ram. “Thanks Ram.  Here are your clothes back.  I’m sorry I had to take them.”

“Your life was more than worth the trade, Prince Ezran, never you mind.” Ram said with a dry chuckle. 

“Why is that?” Corvus had to ask. “Why are you all protecting the princes?  And Prince Callum, Prince - King Ezran, why are you traveling with them so willingly?”

A rustle behind him made him sit up straighter and a shadow fell over him.  The hair on the back of Corvus’ neck stood up as the imposing leader of the assassins’ troupe reentered the cave with near-silent steps and made his way to the fireside.  He arched a brow at Corvus and casually directed a question to one of the other elves. “Has he been this chatty the entire time?”

“Only since the boys woke up.” The healer replied with a yawn. “Wish they’d have slept a bit longer.  Moon knows I could have used it.”

“Sorry we woke you,” Ezran said quickly.

The healer smiled kindly at him. “You’re all right, Ezran.  It’s more the stranger’s voice than the noise.” They jerked their head toward Corvus and leaned back on their good arm, looking back to the leader as his daughter slipped past Corvus to join the princes by the egg. 

Corvus stiffened at the girl’s familiarity with them, how she patted Callum’s shoulder and how they all smiled at each other.  It had barely been a week since the letter arrived to the Breach.  How were they all so familiar with each other already?

“How are you feeling?” The leading elf asked Andromeda, tone softer, and he glanced over at Ezran as well. “You seem to be in better shape this morning, young prince.”

Ezran nodded quickly. “Much.  Thanks, Callisto.”

The healer shrugged but smiled softly at the boy.

“I’m all right.  My arm’s still cold, Callisto said it’s not getting enough blood flow, but everything else is better.” Andromeda reported. 

Their leader pursed his lips, but his bright teal eyes just flicked over to Corvus and he didn’t press the question. “If everyone is once again thinking clearly, we have some decisions to make - not the least of which what to do with this one.”

This one?  Corvus rankled under the disdain but he looked back at the elf with his shoulders square, staring him down.  Unfortunately, his attempt didn’t seem to make much of an impression, with the elf just raising an eyebrow and turning away dismissively. “My name is Corvus.” He tried for a bland tone, but only the children bothered to look at him, and the young elf just raised one eyebrow at him skeptically.

It had been a while since he felt quite this powerless in a room surrounded by warriors.  Amaya’s soldiers weren’t nearly this casually threatening.

As the healer yawned, lips pulling back to reveal sharp fangs, he acknowledged privately that Amaya’s soldiers also weren’t quite as alien as these elves were.

“What to do with me?” He challenged anyway. “Haven’t I proven I’m not here to cause you any harm?  I just want to take the princes home safely.  That’s my only objective.  What happens to you all isn’t my concern.”

“We can’t allow that.” The leading elf replied flatly at the same time as Prince Callum said again, “I told you, we’re not going back with you.”

Corvus took a chance and zeroed in on Prince Callum instead of the leading elf. “Your Highness, I really don’t know what the elves have told you, but your Aunt Amaya just wants the two of you home safe.  We don’t know what’s happened with the king yet -”

“He’s gone.” Prince Callum cut him off, and grimaced. “And the elves didn’t convince us to go with them.  It was kind of the other way around.”

That brought Corvus to an abrupt halt. “What?”

“They sort of blackmailed us.” One of the younger elves - the one with the knives - said with a wrinkle of his nose.

What.

“How could two human children - no offense intended, your Highnesses - no matter how powerful they are to their own kingdom, blackmail five Moonshadow assassins?” Corvus asked, flabbergasted by the very suggestion.

“Six,” The youngest retorted with a scowl at him, her long ears laying back like an irritated dog’s.

“The egg.” Andromeda replied, her tone softer than the other elves were using, and she nodded across the cave towards it. 

“We found the egg in Lord Viren’s dungeon.” Prince Callum said seriously. 

Lord Viren had his own dungeon?  Corvus bit his tongue to avoid interrupting, even more confused by that concept.  What did he mean, Lord Viren’s dungeon?  Since when did he have one of those?

“He was hiding it.” Prince - no, King Ezran said with a sad frown as he petted the egg’s dim surface. “We don’t know if Dad even knew about it.  If we get the egg home to its mother, maybe the Dragon Queen won’t be angry anymore.  There won’t be any need for vengeance, so we can have peace again.”

Corvus’ heart softened, moved by the boy’s obvious faith in this concept, but he looked warily around at the elves. “And you all were convinced by this argument?” He asked skeptically. “I think his idea is possible, but I’ve always heard Moonshadow elves are particularly vengeful, and savage.  Why would you stop long enough to listen?  Why not just take the egg yourselves and run it back to Xadia?”

“Believe me, we considered it.” The knife elf said with a sardonic lilt to his voice, and shrugged, arms folded over his chest.

“My daughter was moved by their cause.” Their leader said, seating himself by the fire with his legs crossed, nodding at her. “We could not take vengeance for a death that was yet to occur.  We agreed on a temporary basis . . . but circumstances have made it clear that there is far more to this situation than it appeared on the surface.  The princes are now an integral part of this plan.  We need them to bring the egg to Xadia as much as they do.  Peace with the human kingdoms may or may not be possible.  That is up to the judgment of the Dragon Queen, we have no bearing on it.  But the egg must live, and these boys must survive with it if we are to discover who the real enemy is.  We did not kill King Harrow, tracker.”

Corvus’ jaw tightened. “Cut the lies, assassin,” He retorted. “We already know that’s why you were in Katolis.  Why are you trying to pretend otherwise?  That’s why I don’t understand why the princes are so willing to go along with this plan.”

“They didn’t kill Dad,” Ezran snapped firmly, and Corvus did a double take at the ferocity in the boy’s tone.

Prince Callum put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and looked just as serious when he met Corvus’ eyes. “He’s right.  The last time I knew where the king was, he was safe, and okay, and one of the elves was with me.  The rest were with Ezran.  They didn’t leave our presence for the rest of the night, until the assassin binding that they had sworn to his death fell when we were all miles from the castle.  Whoever killed the king, it wasn’t them.  We’re sure of it.  That’s the other reason we’re not going back to Katolis.  Whoever killed the king is probably after the heir too, and I can’t let them get to Ezran.”

They were sure.  They had seen the elves, been in their presence, when the king was killed. “This . . . assassin’s binding.  What does that mean?” Corvus asked carefully, brows furrowing as dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

If they were right, what had General Amaya found when she went back to the castle?  Who had really killed the king?  Would she know?  What would they be saying about the Crown Prince going missing the same night?  Well, not missing, they were supposed to go to the Banther Lodge, so presumably everyone expected the boys to be alive, at least. 

“Moonshadow assassins take an oath binding ourselves to the deaths of our targets.” The leader said after a minute of awkward silence, and his face was hard and cold when Corvus looked at him. “It does not matter if we are their cause of death, so long as they die.  The king’s binding fell near dawn.  The other remains, and continues to grow tighter the longer no blood is spilled for it.” 

The ribbons on their arms.  All of them were wearing them.  So they were all suffering from a slow, agonizing amputation.  Corvus winced at the very thought of it.  They all still wore one, though. “So your other binding . . .”

“We believed it bound to Ezran’s life, yes.” The older elf said evenly. “With the Dragon Prince alive, however, there is no life lost to avenge.  The subject of the oath is no longer valid, which removes its target.  There is no escape for us.  It does not benefit us to harm the young Crown Prince now.  However . . . his life may help us in another way.  If he follows through with this peace he claims to wish for, then this war may ease, which is an . . . ideal few of us believed possible under his father’s reign.”

“King Harrow was a good and compassionate king,” Corvus argued, frowning, and immediately regretted it when the elves all shifted around him at once.  None of them moved too quickly but he swore he could feel the temperature drop several degrees as they all stared at him.

Their leader chose not to address the statement directly. “It is in our best interests to ensure all three princes remain alive and safe, and make their way to the Dragon Queen in Xadia.  You complicate things, because while you claim your goal is the safety of the human children, you propose to bring them back into the heart of Katolis, where they were betrayed and their father killed by someone on this side of the border.  They will be safer with us.  We have a vested interest in keeping them alive.  For whoever you may trust in Katolis, there is at least one who has betrayed you, with enough confidence or support to expect success.”

General Amaya always said not to trust Lord Viren.  Lord Viren had been the one hiding the egg of the dragon prince.  He was the one who was closest to the king, along with General Amaya, and despite the elf’s menacing words Corvus simply could not believe that Amaya would kill her brother-in-law.  She adored Harrow as the father and stepfather of her nephews, one of the men her sister had loved in life.

“Prince Callum,” Corvus asked carefully, suspicion overtaking his concerns as he realized the elves were probably right, the boys were safer with them. “Who was with King Harrow when you saw him last?”

Prince Callum blinked. “Oh, uh . . . well I didn’t actually see him, I guess?” He admitted awkwardly. “But he was in his room, and Lord Viren had literally just stepped out from talking to him so I know he was okay.  Soren and a lot of the Crownguard were by the door, too.  He’s the head of the Crownguard, Soren.”

Lord Viren had been the last one to see the king alive?  At least from this information.  Wasn’t the head of the Crownguard Viren’s son, too?  If the two were in league, then it wouldn’t matter which of them saw the princes last - they might have just barely escaped the castle with their lives.  Corvus’ mind raced as he put the pieces together.  General Amaya wouldn’t be in direct danger, he thought, but she wouldn’t have all the parts of this puzzle.  This was bad.

“Why?” King Ezran asked quietly. “What does it matter who Callum saw with Dad?” His little eyes were welling up with tears when Corvus looked up at him and his heart ached for the boy’s grief.  

He couldn’t imagine losing his father, let alone doing it so young. “The elves might be right,” He admitted. “Lord Viren had the egg, Lord Viren was the closest to the king, Lord Viren was the last one seen with the king before he was killed.  General Amaya doesn’t trust him, and he seems to be the main common thread through all of this.  You won’t be safe in Katolis until we find out the truth, either way.  I’d like to get some news back to the General,” He said bravely to the leader of the assassins. “To let her know I’m with the boys and that they are safe, and that we’ve been betrayed from within.  She’ll be able to figure out what to do from inside the country.  I’ll stay with the princes, and I’ll work with you to keep them safe.  The last place anyone will be looking for them is over the Xadian border.”

“So you understand,” King Ezran brightened. “We have to do this.  It could end the war, and it’s safer than going home.”

“Ezran’s got to stay alive if he’s going to take the throne and bring about this peace we’re all working for,” Prince Callum said firmly, looking down at his brother. “And right now, the best way to make sure all of that happens is to get the egg to Xadia.  Well, alive.  Get it to Xadia alive.  And that’s where we’re having a problem right now.” He touched the egg with a reverent hand and a frown. “It’s getting dimmer by the hour, Callisto.  What do we do?”

The elven healer shrugged their shoulders helplessly. “I dunno, lad.  I work with elves, not dragons.  I don’t know a thing about what to do for it.  Cold clearly isn’t botherin’ it by itself, or bein’ in a cold dungeon on a pedestal would have done it some harm.  Maybe it was just that much colder?  I haven’t the faintest idea what to do about it, though.”

“There has to be someone nearby who can help,” King Ezran protested.

“Runaan,” The knife elf said thoughtfully. “We need someone who knows things about dragons, right?  Someone with experience in crossing the veil.  The only elves who might know something are well over a century old.”

Corvus frowned at him. “And they’ll be back in Xadia, not here in the human kingdoms.  Where do you expect to find someone like that?”

“If we step outside we can see Lunar Peak, can’t we?” Ram pointed out, holding his leader’s gaze thoughtfully. “We should go there.  The Guardian may know something helpful with the egg, or at least she will be able to offer us some kind of advice about what to do next.”

When Corvus looked back over at their leader - definitely Runaan - in confusion, the older man wetted his lips and looked down at the fire thoughtfully, resting his chin in his hand, covering his own mouth as if covering up his shock at something.  His eyes were unfocused but narrowed in on the fire. “It’s possible.” He admitted after a moment. “That may help us with the egg, but it does not fix Andromeda’s blood flow problem.  Callisto?”

“Normally, I’d just use Bloodbloom,” The healer - Callisto, Corvus tried to put the name to memory - “But that doesn’t grow this far west.  We don’t even get it in Moonshadow Forest outside of the healers’ gardens.  The only thing I can think of this side of the mountains would be Leechleaf, but I haven’t got any, and it’s the wrong season for it.”

Leechleaf was poison - but Moonshadow elves were known to be resistant to poisons.  Corvus frowned. “If you need herbs, there’s a town just a little ways down the mountain,” He said. “And if you need help for an egg, there might be a vet in town that has an idea.”

The knife elf looked to their leader, and he grimaced. “As much as I am loathe to agree with the human on anything, if a veterinarian has any ideas, it would be quicker than a trip up Lunar Peak, and we have precious little time to spare.  That said, this is very obviously a dragon egg.”

“We could take it down there,” Prince Callum suggested. “Look, you’re right, it’s obviously a dragon egg.  So if any of you takes it down there, people are going to be able to guess that you’re elves.  But if Ezran and I take it down there, and we just say we found the egg near the border, we’re on our own, we’re trying to hatch it, then it’s just a couple of kids who don’t know any better.  Way less noticeable.”

Callisto hummed thoughtfully, tapping their own knee in thought. “If we’re sendin’ someone to town anyway, I’d like to see if there’s any Leechleaf at the local herbalist or apothecary, too.  But - I don’t suppose you lads know how to tell good herbs from bad?”

They both shook their heads. “Not unless you mean herbs in our dinner,” King Ezran admitted. 

“Ram knows the herbs well enough for that,” The leader mused. “And he is less noticeable than the rest of us, save for Rayla.  He will need someone else to watch over the princes more subtly, though, and to cover him if he needs a retreat.  Rayla should go with them.”

“Me?” his daughter echoed in surprise, her ears pricking forward and then tilting back when her father looked at her.  Corvus tilted his head as he tried to read the body language. “You’re trustin’ me with this?”

The older man raised his eyebrows at her with a glimmer of a smile. “You have snuck past every guard I have ever put you under, Rayla.  Staying out of sight of the humans in this village should be nothing to you.  Just ensure nothing goes wrong, that the boys and Ram get the information and supplies that they need and they aren’t followed.  If they are being followed, don’t engage.  Kite them up here.  We will deal with it.” He turned his gaze back to Ram. “Rayla is in charge of security.  Keep an eye on yourself, but let her worry about the princes.  If she tells you to hide, you do it.  Are we clear?”

Ram nodded with a glance at Rayla. “Crystal.”

“Rayla?”

“Yes sir.”

“Callum, Ezran, focus on finding a veterinarian and seeing what answers they will give you.  Do whatever Rayla tells you.  She will keep you safe.  Clear?”

Both boys nodded, and they worked together to put the dragon egg into a pack that young king Ezran shouldered. “Got it.”

“Good.  Ram, Rayla, come here.” The leading assassin stood up again and both younger elves approached him.  They seemed to know exactly what he was doing, as they both held out their hands.  He drew something on each of their palms. “ Mystica Humana .”

Corvus was quite sure he hadn’t blinked, and yet it seemed like he had, for the two young elves standing in front of him had been replaced with young humans who strongly resembled them.  Their horns and tattoos were entirely gone, leaving them both looking much softer.  Their hands had five fingers as well.

“Remember,” Runaan was saying firmly, looking hard at them both. “Without a spell focus like a gem, this is only a visual illusion.  There is no substance and your horns can still touch things.  Touch as little as possible with that false finger, and watch your horns.  Not that I expect that to be a problem for either of you.”

“Your short jokes aren’t funny, Runaan.” Ram said flatly.

Rayla snorted and looked over at her companion, looking him up and down. “You look weird without your markings.”

“Me?  What happened to your face without yours?” Ram challenged.

“Children.” Runaan folded his arms with a stern look at them both and they stopped immediately. “You should be hidden enough, but still, Rayla, don’t let anyone realize you’re following the princes once you split up in the village.  If you’re ready, off you go.”

Both young elves nodded very professionally, and they ushered the human princes out ahead of them.

Corvus watched them go, anxiety burning in his chest as he watched his charges leave his sight once again.  He’d only just caught up to them and now they were gone.  Sure, coming back, ideally, but still . . . once they were out of earshot, he asked, staring at the ground instead of daring to look at the leading assassin, “What can I do to convince you to trust me?  I’ve been convinced.  I’ll help you get the princes to Xadia and to the Dragon Queen.”

“We don’t need your help.” Callisto said with raised brows and an amused sort of tone, smiling almost pityingly at him.

Runaan was giving him an appraising look when he dared to look up at him. “Tell me everything you know about this Lord Viren character.” He said softly. “Then we will see.”

“If I tell you, can I send a message back to General Amaya?” Corvus asked. “Just enough to tell her I’m with her nephews, and that they’re safe.”

The elf tilted his head at him and raised a single snow-white brow. “Asking me how to earn my trust and then bargaining when I give you an answer is not helping your case.”

Corvus tried to hold his gaze, but there was something cold and critical in the older man’s eyes that convinced him he didn’t have a chance. “Lord Viren is the High Mage of Katolis.  It was a position King Harrow invented for him - as I understand it they were friends in their youth . . .”

Notes:

I have more thoughts about that conversation between Runaan, Andromeda, Callisto, Skor, and Corvus, but this chapter was already getting pretty lengthy so I decided to just cut it there. I can cut back into it in another chapter. I'd say "if y'all want" but I know perfectly well that I want to badly enough that it'll probably happen regardless.

Chapter 17: The Village

Summary:

Ram, Rayla, Callum, and Ezran all go into the human village for help for the egg and Andromeda. They have a little talk and a little fun first, and then discover something that might grant the elves a little early mercy. Rayla makes another mistake, but Ram has it handled.

Notes:

AKA Ram and Rayla talk about their daddy issues and then they all have a little fun, Callum has a good idea, and the elves have to get down to business.

“So . . . what was all that with Runaan this morning?” Ram asked carefully as he and Rayla followed the human boys down the mountainside towards where they could see smoke from the nearby village. 

Rayla shrugged without looking at him. “He just . . . needed t’tell me somethin’.” She said, but her tone was too rough and defensive.  

“Ah.” Ram furrowed his brows at her and tilted his head. “Do you . . . want to talk about it?”

Rayla did a double take and gave him a skeptical look. “With you?” She demanded. 

Ram showed her his palms with a chuckle. “Look, I know I’m not always the best listener, but Rayla, if you need help with Runaan, Moon knows I’m the Silvergrove’s current reigning champion of father issues.”

She snorted. “You have no idea how high that bar is.”

Ram blinked at her and couldn't suppress a helpless chuckle. “I keep forgetting you've never actually met my father.  Believe me, Rayla, neither do you.”

“It’s okay to talk about things.” Ezran said sincerely with a look back over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah.  We’re friends now, right?  We’re here for you.” Callum agreed, smiling too.

Rayla looked between the three of them and her shoulders dropped. “Okay.  Thanks, guys.  It’s just . . . Runaan said he was wrong about me.  That I’m not ready for this, and he never should have brought me here.  An’ I just feel so betrayed.  I mean, he said he wasn’t lyin’, that he was just mistaken, but it still hurts, you know?  I trusted him and now he’s sayin’ I’m not ready for this after all because I made a mistake.”

Ah.  So Runaan had made his decision.  Ram winced a bit internally, realizing how difficult the decision must have been for her to hear. “Do you feel ready?” He asked her carefully. “Not for this, what we’re doing now, but to do what we came here to do?”

Rayla’s brows were furrowed when she looked back up at him and frowned. “I . . . I dunno.  It’s our duty, isn’t it?”

Ram bit his lip thoughtfully and sighed. “Let me put that to you a little differently.  You said you didn’t kill that guard in Katolis because he was afraid, and because he hadn’t done anything to you.  What has King Harrow ever done to you?”

Rayla and Ezran both flinched, and Callum stiffened, and he felt a bit bad for hurting the boys that way, but Rayla really needed to understand this point.  He reached out to put a hand on Callum’s shoulder and gave it an apologetic squeeze when the older prince looked at him.  Callum nodded a little after meeting his gaze.

After a moment of visibly battling with the situation, looking down at Ezran, Rayla squared her shoulders. “He killed the Dragon King.”

“That’s what he did to the dragons,” Ram said patiently. “What did he ever do to you?” She looked at him in confusion. “What makes him any different than that - as far as we know - innocent guard?”

Rayla frowned. “The guard wasn’t our target.  He didn’t do anythin’ to us.”

“Neither did the king.” Ram said bluntly. “Rayla, you’re insisting on being ready for some sort of duty, but duty to whom?” He asked. “To our people?  To the dragons?  What happened to the Dragon King isn’t a shared wound, Rayla.  This is something that’s happened to the dragons, and a vengeance they called for.  Runaan always says we don’t judge, we just take.  We kill, but we don’t make the decisions.  That’s because the moment we start making our own judgments it becomes clear that this isn’t vengeance for us - we’re just being used.  We are nothing but tools for the dragons and the Sunfire royalty, and they don’t give a shit about us.” His frustration spilled out with the words and he grimaced as he cut himself off, glancing away to avoid the judgment in the humans’ eyes.

Snow crunched under their feet in the pause before Rayla challenged him, voice shaking ever so slightly. “You were the one who said there was no justice as long as the king lived.” She pointed out. “What changed your mind?”

Thinking over how to say it, mindful that Ezran and Callum were right there but unsure how to address it honestly, Ram sighed. “Nothing.” He admitted. “A life for a life is a form of justice.  That’s how I live with what I’ve done.  Everyone makes these choices, to cope with the damage we do and the lives we take.  But . . . maybe justice isn’t always what the world truly needs.  Sometimes it does more harm than good.  Justice isn’t our duty any more than freedom, or honor, or truth, or the abstract of Xadia, Rayla.  Our ‘duty’ as assassins is to serve the dragons and Sunfire Empire, to keep them happy, and right now, saving this egg may be the most important thing anyone has ever done for that.  If you are driven by duty, Rayla, you need to understand who it is that you’re serving - and why.”

“Maybe your dad was just trying to protect you.” Ezran said, and Ram looked over at him, startled, and saw the boy’s eyes fixed on the snow in front of his feet, his little shoulders hunched. “From having to grow up too fast.”

Callum nodded with a sympathetic look back at Rayla. “Sounds like he’s just trying to keep you safe.”

When Ram looked back at her, Rayla’s eyes had dropped to the snow again, but her tight shoulders were a little looser. “Givin’ me the time and space to . . . figure that out.” She gestured vaguely to Ram, and he assumed she meant who she was serving, who her duty was for. “Thanks, guys.  That . . . that does make me feel a bit better about it all.” She smiled tiredly when she looked up at each of them.

“Good,” Ram said, eyes flicking towards their path. “Because the town is literally right there, and we should probably stop talking about assassins before we go in.”

His attempt at humor successfully made both teenagers and the little boy snicker or giggle, respectively, and he smiled as kindly as he could manage at them all.  He slung an arm around Rayla’s shoulders in a brief hug.  She bopped him in the shoulder with the sides of her horns, affectionately, and they both straightened up.  

Callum and Ezran had been exchanging glances and Ram heard a vague whisper he couldn’t make out, hidden behind the boys’ hands to each other, and narrowed his eyes.

“So, do you guys have snowball fights in Xadia?” Callum asked innocently.

“Snowball fights?” Rayla echoed in conclusion.

“Sometimes,” Ram said warily. “We don’t really get enough snow in the forest often, only a few times a year, but up north -” a ball of snow hit him squarely in the shoulder and blew into powder, and he sputtered, looking over at where Ezran had edged off to when his brother started talking.

Rayla blinked. “What?”

Another snowball hit her in the chest from Callum’s direction, both human princes grinning wildly at them, and Rayla sputtered too in shock. “You little-” She broke off and quickly bent down to pack snow into her own ball to throw back.

The responsible part of Ram wanted to head this off before it got too far.  Ezran hit him again in the side of his hood with a snowball and that part was quickly overtaken by a desire to win .  He spat the powder out of his mouth and rolled a snowball of his own, whirling around to throw it at the young boy.

Ezran successfully dodged it and stuck his tongue out, and Ram’s jaw dropped at the audacity as he lunged to make another snowball.  Nearby, Callum yelped and then cackled as Rayla managed to hit him with one.  The two isolated snowball fights quickly devolved into a melee of all four of them trying to strike each other with hastily packed balls of snow.

“How are you not hittin’ anyone ?” Rayla taunted Ram. “You literally use throwing knives!”

“My knives are balanced !” Ram protested defensively, rolling a much larger than usual snowball with full intent of dropping it on her head. 

“My knives are balanced,” She mocked, throwing another snowball that he narrowly managed to duck. “Sounds like you’re just a bad shot.”

He took great satisfaction in the snowball that Callum quickly planted directly between her shoulder blades, making her yelp. “Am I?” He challenged smugly, and winked at Ezran.  The boy grinned back with as much evil as he’d ever seen on that young face, and also pelted Rayla with a snowball that had her dodging under a nearby tree.

Ram threw his massive snowball and she ducked and cackled at him when it missed. “Missed me again!”

“Wait for it,” He replied, grinning broadly, and her eyes widened comically just before the snow fell from the branches above her and completely covered her in snow.

“Ack!” She squealed and darted out from under the tree, completely covered in white powder, as Ram doubled over laughing.

He too yelped only a moment later as Callum nailed him directly in the neck with a snowball, the snow hitting his skin.  His bouncing away from the impact brought him directly into Rayla and they both fell down into the soft snow, wheezing.  The two human boys soon flopped down next to him as they all stopped to catch their breath.

He wasn’t sure when he’d last had that much pure, childish fun.

Rayla perked up next to him when she sat up. “Look!  There’s a snow elf!” She chirped, pointing out the hornless snow statue of a person near where their snowball fight had finally ended.

“It’s a snowman,” Callum corrected with a laugh. “You’re going to have to stop talking like that or you’re going to get us caught.”

“No problem.” Rayla said brightly, standing up and sweeping her cloak around herself theatrically. “I’ve got it all covered.  Get ready for Human Rayla!  Once I pair this disguise with my perfect human impression, the illusion’ll be complete!”

Stifling his own laughter, Ram sat up too and put his chin on his hand, grinning, to watch her. “Oh, I can’t wait.  This will be hilarious.” He drawled.

“You’ve never even seen my human impression, don’t be ridiculous,” Rayla sniffed.

“No, but I’ve seen Runaan’s, and I know where you learned it,” Ram grinned. “Do go on, show us human Rayla then.”

“Oh boy.” Callum sighed skeptically, but Ezran was practically vibrating, and he clapped from his seat as they waited for the performance.

Rayla took a moment to compose herself and then turned to face them with a neutral, friendly expression. “Greetin’s, fella humans!  Human fellas!  I sure do like hangin’ out with other humans, and talkin’ about things like money!” She slung an arm over Callum’s shoulders. “And startin’ wars.”

Ezran shrugged. “That’s pretty good, actually.”

Ram buried his face in his hands to hide his resigned laughter.  Moon above, she was truly her father’s daughter. “You might want to leave the word ‘human’ out more,” He suggested. “Otherwise, eh, yeah, that’s about how Runaan does it.”

She beamed. “Told ye I had it!  High four!” She clapped Ezran’s hand. 

“Just remember, no touching anyone else with that false finger,” Ram reminded her, snickering as he finally stood up and dusted himself off. “Let’s go.”

Rayla paused before leaving the snowman, and took the carrot out of its face, snapped it in two, and stuck the pieces in their appropriate locations as horns. “Snow elf.” She muttered before she followed them, and Ram kept his snickering internal to avoid the boys noticing her antics behind them. 

 

“Just walkin’ into town, without a care in the world, despite my subcentury life expectancy,” Rayla said cheerfully, smiling insistently to hide her nerves, and Ram looked like he was about to shush her but Callum beat him to it.  She wrinkled her nose at both of them.

“That’s the spirit!” Ezran said in contrast, beaming back at her. 

“Please keep it down.” Ram sighed.

Rayla was distracted from responding to him by a commotion in the plaza to their right.  A man on the edge of a frozen fountain was apparently making some grandiose claims of battling all forms of monsters on the border.  She automatically cringed, but they’d need to investigate the commotion in case of needing an escape later, so she and the boys moved closer with Ram at their heels. 

“I wager I could defeat any challenger here with nothing but my dagger,” The man sneered cheerfully as the four of them joined the crowd.

The first challenger the cocky man picked out of the crowd was dragged off by a woman without a fight, and Rayla nearly panicked when he pointed her out as his next target.  She recoiled, and Ram put a firm hand on her shoulder - to restrain her or to reassure her, she wasn’t sure, but she leaned into it regardless.  She could feel the growl he was releasing through the vibration of his hand and twitched as she realized he’d gone into a defensive stance over her. 

Fortunately, they weren’t required to make an excuse, as a much larger human man thundered up behind the cocky fop to distract him.  He unsheathed a claymore easily as long as the other one was tall, and sneered, “This isn’t even my biggest sword.”

The crowd surged around them, all jeering and placing bets on the big man, and the fop just smirked faintly and began to draw his dagger.

Ram scoffed and Rayla’s eyes widened as she saw the bright orange of the blade as he unsheathed it.

“They’re distracted.  Let’s go.” Callum said and started to sneak off.

“Wait,” Rayla said firmly, tugging the princes back in and pointing at the blade. “You’ll want t’ see this.” She looked up at Ram. “You okay, Ram?” His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open.

Ram sputtered. “That’s my fucking knife! ” He hissed under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear it, and her eyes widened too in shock. “He must have gotten it off the pirates on the coast and fled inland to avoid the Tidebound who took it coming after him.  Fuck.”

As predictable with a true Sunforge blade, the fight was over in a matter of seconds, nearly before Ram was finished sputtering about it.  The big man fled in tears, his sword scattered in pieces across the plaza.  

“What was that?” Callum asked, eyes wide with awe.

“It’s a Sunforge blade,” Rayla explained.

“Wow, I can’t believe I just saw a real Sunforge blade.  What’s a Sunforge blade?” Ezran asked innocently.

“In Xadia, Sunfire elves can make magic weapons that stay as hot as the moment they were forged for hundreds of years,” Rayla said eagerly. “See that?  The sheathe is inscribed with special runes to protect him from the heat, otherwise . . .”

“His pants would be on fire?” Ezran guessed.

“Yeah.  His legs too.” Rayla smirked, and then looked up at Ram where he was still sulking. “How ye doin’ up there?”

Callum was frowning thoughtfully. “Hey, Rayla, if that blade can cut through a steel sword like it was butter, would you say it could cut through anything?”

Ram pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Just about,” He admitted. “Sunforge blades are also often charmed to cut through enchantments, too.  That one certainly is.” He scowled at the back of the human who wore it. “My father had it forged for me after I became an assassin.  But there are limits.  If something else has a much higher melting point than the blade, it will fail or even get stuck - found that out the hard way on a Tidebound pirate’s shield.  That’s how I lost it.”

 “What are you gettin’ at?” Rayla wanted to know, holding out her hand to gesture, and her eyes widened as she looked down at her wrist. “Our wrist bindin’s!  We can’t cut off our arms early, but if that blade can cut through enchantments, could it cut through the spell that binds us too?” She looked to Ram for another opinion.

Ram sucked on his teeth, looking between them. “I can’t believe I’m indulging this idea.” He said flatly, and then scrubbed his face. “It’s possible.” he admitted.

“You guys have to go get that dagger,” Callum said firmly. “We have to split up anyway for Ez and I to go deal with the egg.  Go get the herbs Callisto needs, and then get that dagger.  Anyway, if it’s yours, you want it back, right Ram?”

Ram shook his head and sighed. “It’s not worth the trouble.  It’ll compromise the mission if we steal it back.  But . . . we might borrow it.”

“We’ll find help for the egg.  Just meet back here at the statue now that the crowds are gone.” Callum said. 

“How will you get that dagger?” Ezran asked in concern.

“We’ll ask nicely.” Rayla said, looking over at Ram, narrowing her eyes at him until he rolled his and sighed an agreement. “Let’s go.” Finally, the four of them split up.  She followed the human with the dagger, quietly, while Ram went to the herbalist and apothecary to look for the leechleaf first.  She would only engage with the human once he rejoined her.

 

Ram found Rayla stalking after the man in an alley near the edge of town.  She had been careful to remain out of sight, and the two of them quickly made their way to a rooftop to follow him when Ram’s presence made him bolt.  It was almost too easy, running light-footed across the rooftops, leaping from one to the next, herding him into an isolated part of town.  Ram’s blood lit excitedly with the chase.

They cornered him almost too soon.  He whipped the dagger out and turned to face the alley, and Ram smirked down at him and glanced at Rayla.

“I’ll go down behind him,” She signed, silent, and grinned back at him. 

“When he turns, I’ll drop in on his other side,” He agreed, also signing, and gestured for her to go.  She bounced over to the wall behind the man and dropped down behind him.

He whirled around to face her, brandishing the dagger. “I won that money fair and square,” He said defensively.

Ram dropped down behind him. “Oh, we’re not looking for money.” He drawled, and the stranger stumbled, turning so he could see both of them with his dark eyes wild with sudden fear.

“Then what do you want?” He demanded.

“We want your help.” Rayla said firmly.

With a glance between them, the human slowly straightened up, his fear morphing to skeptical curiosity. “With what?” He asked warily.

“That dagger.” Ram said.

The human started to back up again, and Rayla held out her hands to stop him. “Wait!  We don’t want tae take it from you, we just want to borrow your blade to cut these.” She held out her hand and showed him the binding on her wrist, tugging it away from her glove. 

“Oh, you just wanna borrow it, huh?” The human said skeptically. “Do you know how valuable this thing is?”

“Oh, yes,” Ram growled, still rankling at seeing his fucking knife being bandied about, used in bets and swindling, by some human.  He bit back his urge to claim it, not wanting to be identified as an elf.  It had his name inscribed on the hilt in elvish script.

Rayla held up her hands again. “Fine, you hold it, just cut these things off us,” She begged him.  Ram wondered if she was intentionally playing up her youth to gain sympathy from the stranger.

The human straightened up again, giving her a critical look. “But it’ll burn you.”

“I don’t care.  Just do it, please!” She pleaded, holding out her wrist.  The human finally relaxed a little bit more, and nodded carefully.

Ram saw what was happening just in time and stepped around between them. “Absolutely not.  We’re trying mine first.” He said firmly to Rayla. 

Rayla scowled at him. “This whole thing was my idea,” She argued. “An’ your gloves are important, you have tools in them.   Mine are just gloves.”

“If this doesn’t work, Runaan will be furious if I bring you back to camp with a burned arm and nothing to show for it,” Ram said. “I’m not willing to take a chance with you.”

Rayla scowled deeper. “Either he’s mad at you or I am.” She said flatly. “Who’d you rather take your chances with?”

She looked like an angry shadowcub when she pouted like that, but she had laid Ram out often enough in training that he winced at the idea of being on her bad side.  That said, she could be a jerk to him, but she didn’t actually have any authority over him, and Runaan could do both. “You.” He said just as flatly. “I’m not arguing with your father, Rayla.”

She looked ready to spit, but she folded her arms and stepped back. “Fine.”

Ram turned towards the human, who fortunately had not run away while they argued, and who was looking warily between them.  He held out his wrist. “We’re not taking questions.”

“Right.” The human said, and took hold of Ram’s hand to steady it.  Ram balled it into a fist to disguise how his fifth finger wasn’t really there, and braced himself as the heat drew closer to his wrist.

Predictably, as the human tried to set the blade to his wrist like he was slicing something, his glove caught on fire first and he had to jerk free to put it out.  He hissed with pain but doubted his skin was actually burned beneath the thick leather. “Don’t slice, idiot, it’s a sunforge blade, all you have to do is set the heat to what you actually want to cut.”

“You know a lot about these blades, do you?” The human asked warily. 

Ram scowled at him. “Never mind.  Try this.” He tugged the binding away from his glove, wincing at how it bit into the back of his wrist, and held his arm out again.

The human carefully threaded the knife into the gap and tried to cut the binding free.  Ram’s glove once again caught fire, and Ram snarled through the pain until the human flinched away from it and lost hold of the blade.  When Ram flinched too his binding snapped tight again, pinning the searing blade to his wrist, and he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him as he stumbled backwards.

Rayla caught him and yanked the dagger free of his binding, his wounds instantly cauterized in its heat, and Ram felt like his voice was just burning on the inside as he quickly fell to his knees to pin his hand to the snow.  He put out the fire and just left his burning wrist down there, shuddering as he breathed through his teeth. “It’s no use.  We can’t cut them.” He said, eyes burning with a combination of pain and helplessness in the face of having this slim hope snatched away.

“Are you okay?” Rayla asked worriedly from above him.

Ram shook his head. “Burned, but I’ll be fine.  Good gloves go a long way.” He winced as he looked at the condition his left glove had been left in, halfway to tatters on the inner side, but stood up and dusted himself off nonetheless.

Rayla looked from the dagger to him to the human and back to him.  She carefully handed it to him. “Ram . . . the dagger.  What should we . . .  It is yours, it’s got your name inscribed in it.”

“I knew it!” The human gasped. “You’re elves!”

Ram sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, and at least Rayla looked appropriately ashamed of herself.

“Rayla, go meet me where we agreed earlier.” Ram said firmly. “I’ll handle this.”

Rayla hesitated, giving him a hard look. “No killin’, Ram,” She reminded just as firmly. “No maiming either.”

“We’re just going to talk.” Ram promised her. “Just go.”

With one last searching look at him and a frown, Rayla obeyed. 

Once she was out of earshot, Ram turned to face the human, who was half–crouched and looking once again wild-eyed and terrified. “Please don’t hurt me.  Just take the dagger, just let me go.” The man begged.

“I’m not going to take it from you.” Ram said though it felt like pulling teeth, and backed the man up until he fell down into the snow and cowered there.  Ram crouched in front of him and showed him the blade. “I’m going to give this back to you.”

The human glanced from him to the dagger. “What’s the catch?”

“You’re going to keep your mouth shut about us.” Ram said, patiently, voice deadly soft, holding the human’s gaze with his own. “You’re the only one in this town who’s managed to see through the illusions hiding us, so believe me, if the torches and pitchforks start coming out, I will know who told everyone.  We’ve already gotten what we need from this little village, and we’re leaving.  You’re going to keep quiet and let us leave without any trouble.  If you don’t . . .” Ram slowly sank the knife into the stone on the ground between them. “I will come back for you.  And it doesn’t matter how far you run, how well you hide, or how fast you get there.  I will find you.  And when I do, you will wish I had just killed you now.  Do you understand?”

The human nodded jerkily, breath coming in harsh pants.  Ram flared his nostrils and could swear he smelled piss, and his lip curled with disgust.

“I want you to say the words, human.”

“I - I understand.” The human said shakily. 

“So what are you going to do once I leave?”

The human trembled. “N-nothing.”

“Try again.”

Sweat was dripping from his brow now. “I’m - I’m not going to tell anyone about you or - or your girl.”

“Oh, she’s not mine.  But close enough.” Ram snapped his right hand out and grasped the man by the jaw to enforce their eye contact, digging his finger into the hinge of his jaw. “Any questions?”

The man opened and shut his mouth once before daring to ask, “Is the knife actually yours?”

“It was.” Ram admitted, and tightened his grip on his jaw until the man whimpered. “So appreciate that I’m leaving it with you, and keep your mouth shut.”

The human nodded weakly, as best he could with Ram’s grip on his jaw.

“Good.” Ram let go of him roughly and strode out of the alleyway without a glance back until he reached its mouth.  When he did look, the human was still trembling in the snow.

Good.  They would be long gone by the time he regained his senses enough to tell anyone about them or come after them, and he’d be a laughingstock in the town if they couldn’t be found.  Ram smirked to himself and went to rejoin Rayla and the humans at the statue, though his smirk faded quickly as he remembered their respective missions.  With only dried leechleaf in the village for Andromeda, he hoped the humans had found better news for the egg.

Chapter 18: Totally Not An Interrogation

Summary:

Runaan has some questions he wants answered. Corvus is going to answer them.

Notes:

yeah so I don't have an explanation for why I couldn't get this done yesterday. I just couldn't function, really, mentally, to write much, and certainly nothing this serious. It's done now though.

“It was a position King Harrow invented for him - as I understand it they were friends in their youth.” Corvus recited, and Andromeda tilted her head as she watched him go over the information.  He’d tried to bargain a little, but he caved the moment Runaan had pressed him about it. “He wasn’t highborn, but most of King Harrow’s Council aren’t.  Neither was Queen Sarai.  Lord Viren was a mage before he took the position, but I don’t know who he studied with or where.”

Interesting.  So dark magic wasn’t something readily found in Katolis, or at least wasn’t prominent enough to guess where a master studied.  That made sense with the relatively few dark mages they encountered near the border.  Andromeda glanced over at Skor for his reaction, and caught him scowling at the human’s shoulder.

Ah, yes.  Corvus was sent by General Amaya, so Skor’s hackles would be up automatically.  She didn’t know exactly what had happened to him, but the loss of his voice was a scar not easily forgotten.

“He’s - he was one of the king’s closest advisors.” Corvus continued. “He was said to be the closest, before Prince Harrow married Crownguard Sarai, and after she was killed in Xadia by Thunder.”

“Avizandum.” Runaan interrupted, arms folded, face darkening in response to the name.  Andromeda winced at it too.  When Corvus paused, Runaan said coolly, “The dragon king.  His name was Avizandum.”

Corvus’ eyes flickered to her and to Callisto, and Andromeda wasn’t sure what he saw in their faces when he nodded carefully. “Avizandum.  I’m sorry, I just - we don’t know.”

Callisto’s lip curled. “You don’t even know his name, but your people killed him at the foot of his own den.” They sneered softly. 

“He killed Queen Sarai,” Corvus countered, frowning back bravely. “Did you expect that act of violence to go unanswered?”

“He killed your queen after an unprovoked attack on the border!” Callisto said incredulously. “What were you expectin’ the reaction to be?”

“It wasn’t -” Corvus grimaced. “I can’t say that the mission was provoked by Xadia, but it wasn’t reasonless.  Katolis and Duren had been suffering a drought that had left our kingdoms starving.”

“And your solution was to kill some innocent creature on the border?” Callisto challenged.

Corvus took a deep breath and met their gaze evenly. “Lord Viren found a spell he could use to bring warmth and rain back to the kingdoms, allowing us to grow enough food to save a hundred thousand souls that would otherwise have starved to death that winter.  It . . . required the heart of the magma titan to cast it.  It was dark magic, and Queen Sarai disliked the idea, but . . . it saved the lives it was meant to save.” He looked up at Runaan bravely. “As assassins I imagine you understand the logic of taking one life in defense of many.”

Runaan tilted his head at him, and Andromeda’s eyes widened at the daring.  Privately, she had to concede he had a point, but . . . dark magic wasn’t as clean as a simple killing.

“Dark magic is not the same as death itself.” Runaan put her thoughts into words with a voice that was deadly soft. “It is a poison that eats away at the users and drains the lives of those around them, sacrificing innocents for power that isn’t yours to take.  It spreads like a plague wherever it touches and all bleeds back to its original source, feeding an evil much deeper, much darker than you know.  So no, what we do is not the same, and Katolis of all the human kingdoms should know this.  But if you have forgotten your own history, that is likely the fault of recordkeepers generations behind you who have failed you.” 

Corvus frowned deeper as he sat back in his seat. “Why would Katolis know better than the other human kingdoms?  What deeper evil gave rise to dark magic?” He wanted to know.

Runaan did not answer him. “Lord Viren, tracker.  You were saying he found this spell that prompted the attack?”

Though the human looked somewhat frustrated by Runaan’s refusal to answer his questions, he sat deeper in his place and nodded. “Queen Sarai was . . . displeased by the idea.  She and General Amaya have never agreed with the use of dark magic.”

Skor scoffed loudly from the other side of the cave, but when they all looked at him he waved a hand dismissively rather than bothering to answer.  He sneered in silence at the tracker. 

Corvus pursed his lips and kept talking. “They’ve always said that it’s a shortcut, and shortcuts are bound to have consequences.” He shrugged. “I guess they were right.  General Amaya - no one knows what exactly happened across the border, except the soldiers who were there.  I wasn’t, I was - too young.  But ever since Queen Sarai’s death, the general has said Lord Viren isn’t to be trusted.  That no matter how helpful he seems, and he may be helpful for years on end, he will one day stab you in the back.  I’ve never properly spoken to him myself, I’ve only met him a handful of times and kept my distance per her advice.”

“So why does the king trust him so?” Runaan asked, brows furrowing, as a thought began to take root in Andromeda’s mind.

Corvus shrugged helplessly. “He is the king’s oldest friend.  Why wouldn’t he?  As far as he is aware, Lord Viren’s never betrayed him.  The queen died in rescuing him from the - the dragon king.”

“You said he was the king’s closest advisor both before his marriage and after the death of his wife?” Andromeda asked thoughtfully, tapping the fingers of her good hand against her own lips as her thoughts came to a full theory.

Corvus nodded. “Yes.  At one time he was friends with both the queen and the general, but after the queen’s death . . .”

“No one else witnessed the queen’s death?”

“. . . No.”

Andromeda looked at Runaan. “Perhaps the dragon king isn’t the one who killed their queen at all.”

Runaan frowned, sitting back on his heels. “Why stop there, then?” He asked. “If he seeks power, why wait until his friend married, and then only kill the wife, if he was the closest thing the king had to family before this?”

“He wasn’t in line for the throne directly,” Corvus said quickly. “And he never will be.  That claim is hereditary, tracked through the bloodline.  King Harrow married Crownguard Sarai when he was still a prince, anyway, and he only took the throne shortly after Prince Ezran was born ten years ago.”

“Still, why wait ten years?” Runaan pointed out. “If he was likely to be chosen as regent for the boy, once he was born . . . ?”

“Unless it wasn’t just power he wanted,” Andromeda pointed out, and all of the men looked at her in confusion.  Dawning realization spread across Runaan’s face first. “What if it wasn’t just about the throne?  If he was so close to the king . . .” Skor and Corvus’ eyes widened next.

Callisto was still squinting in confusion. “What exactly are you gettin’ at?”

She resisted the urge to taunt them about it. “Perhaps his interests in the king weren’t strictly political, is all I mean.”

“They were both married at different points,” Corvus said hesitantly. “And Lord Viren was married first, as I understand it.  I don’t know exactly what happened to his wife, all the general ever says is that she vanished many years ago when their children were very small.”

“Vanished?” Andromeda echoed, grimacing as her stomach twisted unpleasantly at the implications of that. 

“Voluntarily,” Corvus said quickly. “At least from what we know, she just left without much of a warning or an explanation.”

“Doesn’t disprove my point, then,” She said, though she still grimaced at the very concept of being willing to abandon her children entirely, even with their father. “They both sought other relationships, but he wanted his control over the king, and his wife eventually realized she could not compete with that desire.  She leaves, the king marries and starts to drift away from his influence.  Perhaps he didn’t orchestrate the attack to get the queen killed, specifically, but when he sees a chance to get rid of her without suspicion, he takes it.”

Runaan grunted. “Seems he didn’t quite manage without suspicion, if what Corvus says about his general’s thoughts is true.”

Andromeda nodded to concede the point. “Still, the king is fooled.  So he regains his influence over the king for a few years . . .”

“So why is the king dead now?” Callisto asked, frowning. “If we follow that reasoning, there’s no reason for him to have died that night if we didn’t do it.”

Andromeda shook her head. “I don’t know.  It has to have something to do with the death of the dragon king and the egg.  Something about those events a few moons ago changed things on both sides of the border.  And if the attack was meant to be vengeance for the queen, why wait as long as they did for that?  The attack that led to her death was years ago.”

“Only King Harrow and Lord Viren crossed the border for that.” Corvus said carefully. “It wasn’t a mission known to most of the kingdom until it was too late to stop them.  Assistance from the Standing Battalion was turned away.”

“So he whipped the king up into a vengeful fury again.” Andromeda said, dread settling deep in her stomach as it all fell into place with Ram’s suspicions. “He leads the king across the border to respond with sudden vitriol to a death that happened years in the past, and they use the chance to steal the egg of the dragon prince and leave the dragons believing it was dead.”

Runaan’s hand was over his mouth with deep thought and he moved it to rumble, “The egg was not all that was stolen.” He glanced over them all seriously. “The queen did not give me a list, but she mentioned many things from her nest and her hoard were missing.  The dragons do not keep many artifacts that are not of great power or significance in their den.”

“So this all was a power grab.” Andromeda said softly. “Get the dragon king out of the way using the human king’s rage, get the egg, get whatever other power he can gather up . . . but why not reveal he has the egg?  Why keep that a secret?”

“King Harrow was usually a kind man,” Corvus said carefully. “It’s . . . he wanted revenge, but no one knew about the egg being stolen until now.  No one, I swear on my mother’s life, no one on this side of the border that I know of knew that the egg was here.  I somehow don’t think King Harrow was on the short list that did know.  He wouldn’t have approved of taking a child - or, close enough to one - from its mother, for no reason.”

Runaan narrowed his eyes. “But you could think of a reason he might justify it.”

“If he thought the mother was harming them.” Corvus replied immediately, and shrugged when they all looked at him.

Andromeda cut off the tangent before it could get further, outlining the theory once again as it took place in her mind. “So something triggers the mage to want more power from Xadia - dark magic alone could do that.  He whips the king up into a rage, comes to the dragons for another power grab.  The king grows suspicious in the wake of the attack, presumably realizing he’s taken more than just the life of the dragon king that they attacked for.  The mage loses influence over the king, we come to kill him . . .” She trailed off with a frustrated scoff. “It still doesn’t make sense that he would kill the king if he’s kept him alive this long, unless something else happened that we don’t know about.”

“It could be as simple as you say,” Runaan pointed out. “He lost control, the general’s distrust filtered through the king’s freshened grief and Harrow grew suspicious of the mage.  On top of that, we know Ezran fears him.  He won’t be able to manipulate the boy the way he can the father, if Ezran takes the throne.  So he has to take control now , before Ezran is old enough to take it from him.”

It was true.  Ezran had confessed before that he disliked Lord Viren, and was intimidated even by his ‘friend’, Claudia, the other dark mage like her father.  Animals were unsettled by the air of dark magic and that made the boy just as unsettled, and Lord Viren had been rather openly cruel to his own son. 

Andromeda had a few choice things she wished for an excuse to do to him, from the prince’s stories.

“There’s still something missing,” Callisto said slowly. “We’re theorizin’ things to fill in the blank of why the king is dead now.  But as for everything that led up to that night . . . it all does fall a little too well into place if the mage is playin’ us all for fools.”

Runaan hummed an agreement. “What about you, Corvus?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the tracker. “Where do you fall in your loyalties, and why?”

 

Corvus blinked at the elf for a moment, confused by the question. “I thought I’ve made it clear where my loyalties lie.”

“I want to hear you say it.  And explain it.” Runaan replied evenly, his gaze seeming . . . critical, but perhaps not as cold as before. 

Corvus glanced at the other elves.  Andromeda still looked thoughtful more than anything, though she nodded at him when she noticed him looking.  Callisto was scowling at the fire, black brows furrowed in deep thought.  The last one, whose name he didn’t know, was still glowring at him with his lips slightly pulled back from his teeth, ears lying flat.  Something about his posture looked more like a frightened cat than an aggressive one, though, and Corvus wondered if something else was going on here that he didn’t know about.

Runaan was raising a brow at him when he looked back, and he folded his hands in front of him to reply. “I’m loyal to the general, mostly.” He started, and tensed when he felt the temperature drop from the elves’ reaction to that. “But it’s because I believe she has the best future in mind for us.  She’s a protector more than anything, and I don’t think she would harm anyone without reason.”

The elf whose name he didn’t know made a rough, angry noise and shoved himself to his feet.  He left the cave without saying a word, shoving the blankets over the entrance out of his way, ignoring Callisto when the healer called, “Skor?”

“Let him go.” Runaan said softly, placing a hand on Callisto’s shoulder when the other elf made to stand too. “I’ll speak with him when we’re done.”

Callisto frowned, but sank back into their seat with a soft breath, folding their good arm over the broken one. 

“We have a very different perspective on your general.” Runaan informed Corvus, almost dryly, but his face was still deeply serious. 

Corvus almost scoffed. “I had noticed.  If I may ask - you told her you’d met her before.  What happened between you that makes you distrust her so much?”

Runaan tilted his head at him and apparently decided to answer him truthfully. “Many years ago, when I was young, I led one of my first teams on a simple reconnaissance mission on the border, investigating the new human incursions on the Breach.” He smiled humorlessly. “We knew, of course.  Another mission had discovered the new bases there some months before.  We were in the caves around the Breach itself when a cave-in trapped us beneath the stone.  As it turned out, the then-lieutenant Amaya was also trapped within the caves.  My people could still see in the dim light of the caves, and hers had the only torches.  None of us could escape, and our fighting only harmed us both.

“We agreed to work together to escape the caves.  Nearly a week we were trapped there, trying to navigate our way out of that horrible maze.  Luckily we all had some food in our packs.  We knew there was a way, because there were too many animals inside that must have been coming from somewhere - some less friendly than others.  After the humans ran out of torches, my scouts were not enough.  One of the soldiers was lost to a pack of three-eyed nightfoxes.  We tried to warn them not to wander into the darkness alone.  We found their remains when we moved the next day.

“Things soured between the groups after that.  Became colder.  My people guarded the rear more fiercely in an effort to keep it from happening again.  I led the way out, as I could see better in the darkness.  Following the nightfoxes’ trail we found the exit, but not without a cost.  More creatures were pursuing us, forcing my assassins to hold the line, doing battle in the rear as the humans escaped the cave.  Then your general betrayed us.  Once her people had escaped, she had her men throw lit bags of your firepowder on the cave entrance, collapsing it with my people still inside.  The efforts we had put in to save her, to work with her, the truce we had worked under, the temporary trust we had built - all just a lie.  It took them weeks to die, starving in that cave, tracker.  So yes, I struggle to trust your general’s word for anything.”

Corvus had bit his tongue through the story, but he knew his eyes were wide with realization by the time the elf was finished. “I . . . know this story,” He said carefully. “From the general’s perspective.  I may have a bit of insight for you, if you’re willing to hear it.”

Runaan tilted his ears back, appraising him, and nodded silently.

“The general is deaf,” He clarified. “She couldn’t hear anything you had to say, and was relying on her soldiers for your words, especially after they ran out of torches.  She didn’t know what killed the soldier.  She thought your people had killed him.”

“We found the body half- eaten - never mind.” Runaan rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. “I am not certain what appalls me more, that she thought we were capable of that while under a truce or that she thought we would be so shameless as to lead her directly to the scene of the crime.”

Corvus shrugged weakly. “Our stories about Moonshadow elves aren’t exactly . . . complimentary.”

“No one’s stories about us are complimentary.” Callisto said flatly. “This also assumes she was tellin’ the tracker the truth, and that he’s being truthful with us, I have to point out.”

“The trust has to start somewhere.” Corvus pointed out, managing to sit up straight despite the elf’s distrustful orange stare. “I’ve helped you this far.  I don’t know exactly what’s going on any more than you do.  I give you my word, which I’ve kept every time you’ve tested me, that what I’m telling you is, as far as I know, true.  My mission is simple.  I’m to keep the princes safe, and to return them safely .  As of now, not knowing what happened in Katolis, all I can do is prioritize their safety.  I don’t know if your dragon queen can really be convinced like they’re hoping, but I can help protect them on the way there.  And you believe it enough to go through with the plan, which is something.”

Callisto made a frustrated noise and looked at Runaan, seeming to sign something.  Corvus blinked in confusion, as he recognized the sort of cadence of a sign language, if clumsy with only one hand.  The movements made no sense to him despite the years he had spent learning and using it around the general. “Is that sign language?” He heard himself ask in confusion, before kicking himself with the thought that they must have their own form that was more friendly to four fingered hands.

“Yes.  And if we wanted you to know what we were saying we wouldn’t be using it.” Runaan said blandly and signed back.  Callisto frowned deeply at whatever his response had been and said something else. 

Corvus looked over at Andromeda for an indication of what they might be talking about, and found her expression vaguely apprehensive.  That didn’t tell him much.  He guessed they were likely deciding what to do with him, and helplessness welled up in his chest as he didn’t know what else he could do or say to earn their trust.  What would they do to him if he didn’t?  The children weren’t around anymore, he imagined he’d lost any protection he had from death with their absence.

“For now, you remain with us under guard.” Runaan finally said with a grimace. “It seems the most viable option, as we do not want to antagonize the general further, and for the moment, our goals align.  However.  If you give us a reason - any reason, no matter how small - to doubt you, you will be asleep before you know what’s happening, and you will wake up miles behind us with no indication of where we have gone.  We will not kill you - the first time.  That abandonment will be your only warning.  If you hunt us down again after losing our truce, the next who comes after you will not have Andromeda’s mercy.  Are we clear?”

Corvus nodded, blinking, shocked at the quick turn from what he had expected to be his execution. “Yes.  Crystal.” 

“Good.” The big man stood up and dusted himself off. “Stay here.  I’m  . . . going to talk to Skor about all this.”

“Runaan.” Callisto said as he made to exit. 

Runaan paused to look back.

Still signing clumsily with one hand, Callisto quickly gave up and just sighed. “Just . . . be kind.”

Runaan’s face softened, as Corvus looked between them in sudden curiosity, and he nodded. “I know, Callisto.  He will be fine.”

Corvus opened his mouth to ask about it after Runaan left, and snapped it shut with a click and thought better of it the moment he looked back at Callisto’s glower.  The elf was tense, as if daring him to say something, which meant he probably shouldn’t.   He wasn’t sure what to say, actually, with that confusion still on his mind, reeling from his near-death experience turning into an abrupt truce with people he had thought, yesterday, to be bent on the political collapse of his country and specifically his own death. 

Andromeda scrubbed her face with both hands and groaned. “Let’s hope Ram and the children are having a nicer time than we are, eh?” She said dryly, and Corvus couldn’t help but snort a laugh at the unexpected humor.  To their credit, Callisto at least cracked a smile at it, and Corvus took a bit of hope in that.  Whatever was going on, they would make this truce work, somehow.

At least as long as he managed not to make things worse with the other elf - Skor.  Which would be easier if he knew what the hell had happened with him.  Corvus resolved to just keep his distance, as much as he could traveling in the group, and try to stay out of his way.

Notes:

Poor Skor. Triggered AF right now and he doesn't even get a break.

Chapter 19: I don't have a good title, it's just addressing some trauma and then planning what to do next

Summary:

Runaan and Skor have an important discussion, and Skor brings up some issues Runaan isn't ready to face just yet. When Ram and the children return, they all discuss next steps, and Rayla gets some unexpected reassurance.

Skor wasn’t far away when Runaan found him.  He didn’t even need to track prints through the snow, as the other swordsman was sitting on an outcropping of rock within sight of the cave entrance, eyes fixed on the human village below.  Runaan made sure to crunch a bit of snow on his approach, and saw Skor glance at him, so he wasn’t startled when Runaan sat down on the rock beside him. 

“How stable are you?” Runaan asked softly, without looking directly at him, just looking out of the corner of his eye.

Skor sighed through his nose. “He’s coming with us, isn’t he.”

“I asked first.”

“That’s a yes.” Skor rubbed his forehead tiredly, and when Runaan looked a little closer, he winced internally at the exhausted lines around his eyes and the tight pupils.  He wasn’t panicked anymore, but this was taking a toll on him. 

Runaan sighed, not bothering to contradict him, and cast his own eyes down to the village.  He spared a moment to hope Rayla - and those he had sent with her - were doing well, and the humans had found some help for the egg. “It seems the most viable option going forward.”

“We can’t trust him.” Skor growled. “You know better than anyone, Runaan.  Humans can’t be trusted and that one works for her .”

Runaan tilted his head at him. “And what makes the princes so different?”

Skor pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. “Nothin’.  Small children don’t have higher morals, they have needs and people who fill them, and human children grow up slower than ours in that way.  Right now, that’s us, so of course Ezran wants to help.  It might even work for a few years.  But once he goes home, is surrounded by adults that hate us the way they do for enough years?  I doubt it will last.  Callum is old enough t’ have his own values, but he won’t be the one on the throne that could actually harm us.”

Runaan frowned a bit and looked back down to the village, where he had sent them, entrusting the future of the world to the boys Skor now spoke of with such skepticism. “I don’t think either of them are young enough to be in that state of mind,” He said carefully. “While it’s true that human children mature . . . slower, Ezran should be around the same mindset as Rayla was when I took her in.  She was more than capable of this kind of planning and reason - as you well know.”

Skor shook his head. “Does it matter?  We’ll do this, and it’ll be a reprieve for a few years, if it works.  It’ll save our home from Zubeia, at least.  I don’t doubt their intentions now.  I just . . . don’t trust them to keep them.  Especially back in Katolis once it’s over, with her counsel.”

“Perhaps,” Runaan conceded, reluctantly, after a moment. “But while she is vicious to us, she is a general in a war.  We have never been given a reason to believe she would turn on her own people, and these are her own nephews.  I do not believe she would give Corvus orders that would lead to their harm.”

“Like your friends would never have abandoned their posts or their daughter?” Skor asked, and the words struck Runaan so close to the heart that he couldn’t even process the tone that they came with.  He flinched involuntarily.

He didn’t grit his teeth, but it was a near thing, and he groaned softly into his hands as he rubbed the stress lines from his own face. “That was different.”

“Yes, it was,” Skor growled. “We knew them better than we know her.  What makes ye think we can trust her more than we trusted them?”

Runaan growled right back at him. “I am not saying we should trust him, and certainly not her.  Even if she would turn on her nephews, the tracker may not be willing to harm them.  He knows he can’t fight us.  We keep him with us, keep him close, to keep an eye on him.  If he stays true to his word, he may be an asset.”

“And when he doesn’t?”

“We put him to sleep, and drop him as far off our trail as we can, and leave.” Runaan said, meeting his burning golden eyes again. “If he continues to chase after that, you and Ram may deal with him as viciously as you choose.”

Skor held his gaze for a long minute, searching, before finally giving a huff and looking back down at the village, his shoulders dropping in concession.

Runaan kept looking at his profile, and sighed again, softly.  He placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, and Skor leaned away from it for a moment before settling, pushing back against the weight of it instead. “I know how difficult this is.” He said. “Believe me, I understand what I am asking of you.”

Skor shook his head. “It’s what’s best for the mission.” He replied, voice brittle. “What it does to us is secondary.” He looked over at Runaan through his hair and acknowledged, softer, “I lost my voice, but you lost four lives to her.  That’s far worse.”

Closing his eyes at the memory of the elves he had been forced to abandon inside the caves, Runaan took a deep, even breath, and shook his head. “I will not quantify suffering.” He said after a moment. “You lost a life, too, in a way.  The life you should have had.”

The thought hung in the air between them for a moment, both well aware that if things had turned out differently - if Skor had not lost his voice, and his pride had not been killed under Runaan’s command - he would likely have retired several years ago.  He would not be in Katolis at all.

“I’ve made my peace with that.” Skor said softly. “Have you?”

Runaan blinked at him. “Have I made my peace with what?”

Skor glanced at him through his hair. “Losin’ the life you should have had.”

“What are you . . .” the question died in Runaan’s throat as Skor tilted his head towards the village below, the implication from before pressing in like blades around his ears.  He laid them back a little defensively.

“You set all your plans aside for two elves who’ve gone on t’ betray you.” Skor pointed out softly. 

Runaan rubbed the marks across his nose, closing his eyes against the darkness pressing in from his sides. “You know as well as I do the Dragonguard had no choice in leaving,” He said slowly. “What was I supposed to do?  I had been a part of Rayla’s life since she was born.  Was I to leave her with someone else?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Skor said, tilting his head to look at Runaan around the hair that fell over his face. “That was seven years ago, an’ she’s only fifteen.  They didn’t have a choice about leavin’?  They left t’ protect her?  They threw her life away along with the rest of us when they ran.  Saved their own skins instead.”

“Skor-”

“We’ve all a right t’ be angry with them for that,” Skor pressed. “But even before that, Rayla’s only fifteen.  She’ll remember more of her life with you than with them.  She’s practically grown, and they did what, sent letters?  That’s not parenting , and you know it.  They dropped that on you, an’ never let ye take the title ye deserve for the responsibility ye took, too selfish to let her have a family they weren’t a part of.”

Runaan flinched, hand dropping from Skor’s shoulder and covering his own face as he grimaced. “That doesn’t - Skor, I can’t deal with this right now,” He said desperately. “She is their daughter, she is the one who suffers the most from what they’ve done.  Her feelings on the matter come first.”

“That’s my point.” Skor shifted his weight onto his opposite hip to turn a little more towards Runaan, arching his brows pointedly. “You’re the only adult in her life that always puts her first, except Ethari, and honestly, my friend, I’m not as sure as you are that he’d choose her over you.”

He would.  Runaan was more than confident of that.  He grimaced at the very thought of making him choose, though, and shook his head.

“I’m not sayin’ ye should talk to Rayla about it.” Skor said. “It’s not her job tae take care of you.  But I knew them, too.  Ye do have other friends, not all of us willin’ to fuck you over for seven years and end it with a stab in the back.”

Runaan flinched again and snapped. “Alright, yes, I am angry!  I am confused, and frustrated.  I do not understand what changed, I trusted - I loved them as my brother and sister, and I can’t - I don’t understand why they would betray us like this.  But I cannot deal with this right now .  I must do what I can to minimize the damage from what they’ve done, to Rayla and to our people’s reputation in the eyes of the dragons.”

“You’ve been cleanin’ up after those two your whole life.” Skor observed softly.

Runaan grimaced. “That will no longer be an issue after this, will it?” He said bitterly, and then narrowed his eyes at Skor. “And you are deflecting.”

Skor wrinkled his nose at him and lifted his lip to show one chipped fang in halfhearted spite. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Runaan showed his own fangs right back, heart aching at the memory of when that fang had been chipped, but appeased when Skor’s mouth closed again under his show of dominance. “I will not force you,” He said anyway, a little wry after Skor had done exactly that to him. “But know that I am here if you need it.  I know, better than anyone, why this is difficult for you, and I share your concerns.”

“It’s what’s best for the mission.” Skor repeated reluctantly, and groaned softly as he leaned back on his hands, raising his face to the sun’s heat and closing his eyes against its light. “Runaan, if he says anythin’ else about that woman’s honor -”

“I will not restrict his right to speak,” Runaan said, but shrugged when Skor scowled. “But I will not restrict yours, either.  If he offends you, respond as you wish, just - verbally.  We don’t resort to violence until he does.”

Skor’s eyes remained shut but he nodded slowly. “Fine.”

He would not have returned to the field, and Runaan would not have allowed him to stay there, if he weren’t capable of stabilizing even under circumstances that brought up plagues from his past.  Runaan accepted this answer and looked back down to the village below.  He took note of a small group of people - four - one smaller than the other three - leaving the well-trodden path towards where he and Skor sat up on the slope. “The children are returning.”

“Then we should do the same.” Skor said, sounding far calmer than he had when Runaan first approached him, at least, and nodded with eyes open when Runaan looked at him again.  They both stood up and dusted the bits of snow off of themselves, and took a few breaths to clear their minds after the discussion they’d had.  Skor returned to the cave, ducking inside with only a glance at Runaan.  Runaan remained by the entrance, waiting for the children to return.

For all they weren’t all his children, he couldn’t help his growing concern for the human boys, and he had known Ram since he was quite young as well.  They were all his responsibility.

He shoved Skor’s words from earlier out of his mind.  Rayla’s needs came first.  He knew what he had to do about his friends’ betrayal, and processing his reaction to it could come later, when he had less on his plate and could justify devoting precious energy to doing so.

 

Runaan was waiting outside the cave when they returned.  Rayla didn’t get a chance to say anything before Callum said brightly, “Well, we have good news!”

“We also have bad news,” She cautioned, wincing as she thought of Ram’s burned wrist and the ache of their tightening bindings. 

“And better news,” Ram said with a forgiving glance at her, and she felt irrationally grateful for it even as she remembered that it was really his own fault he was injured.  It could have been her instead.

A smile tugged at Runaan’s mouth. “I believe that evens out into a positive,” He said as they drew closer. “The others are inside.  Rayla, I need you for a moment.” His tone was a clear dismissal of the boys, and Ram gave her a mischievously sympathetic look before ushering the princes into the cave ahead of him.

Rayla stood up very straight when she stopped in front of Runaan. “Yes sir?”

He smiled more gently this time. “Please relax, Rayla.  I put you in charge of security, I need to talk to you about that.  You weren’t discovered, I assume by the glaring lack of torches and pitchforks following you.”

She snickered in spite of herself, the tension falling from her shoulders as she realized he wasn’t scolding her, didn’t doubt her.  He just . . . wanted her report, like he would ask from anyone with that job. “Right.  Only one, and there were . . . extenuatin’ circumstances.  Ram’ll explain, he took care of it.  Mostly it was smooth sailin’, no one saw through our disguises.”

“Good.” Runaan stepped forward and took her hand, the one he’d drawn the rune on, and pressed his palm over it, letting the illusion drop.  Her fifth finger disappeared, leaving her hands normal again, and she knew her ears, horns, and tattoos must have reappeared as well. “I expected no less, but I am proud of you.” He said softly. 

It . . . it did help to hear, and Rayla smiled back, a little shakily.  Ram’s perspective had given her a lot to think about, and it was growing easier to forgive him, especially as he didn’t seem to be pulling away.  He was pushing closer to her instead, fussing over her more. “Thank you.” 

She took a step closer, unsure if she was approaching him or the door, and Runaan opened his arms.  She darted in before she could overthink it, letting him hug her tight again.  She could hear his heartbeat slowing with her safely in his arms again, and he kissed her hair and trailed his hand over her shoulders, scenting her, marking her as his cub.  She shuddered under the very parental affection, and buried her face in his coat.  He meant it.  He really meant this, didn’t he?

Only when she pulled away to breathe did Runaan carefully let go of her, and he held the tent flaps aside to let her into the cave ahead of him. 

Callisto had clearly yanked Ram down when they saw his arm, as he was kneeling somewhat awkwardly with the wounded limb in their good hand as they examined it with a concerned scowl.  Skor sat behind them looking vaguely bemused.  Andromeda’s attention was on the human boys, along with Corvus, and the kids had joined her sitting closer to the fire.  

“I suppose we should lead with what happened to your arm,” Runaan said dryly to Ram. “You look like you put your hand in a fire.”

Ram winced. “That isn’t . . . entirely inaccurate.”

“ Why ?” Callisto asked with the most exasperated, tired tone Rayla had ever heard them muster, and she muffled a giggle at how much they suddenly reminded her of Ethari.

“A mercenary in town had my -” Ram grumbled. “Had a Sunforge dagger.  I recognized it because it was the same one I lost to those pirates three years ago.  It’s enchanted to cut through spells, so Rayla and Callum theorized - and I agreed it was possible - that it could cut through our bindings as well.”

The older elves froze.  Callisto slowly let go of Ram’s hand to facepalm, groaning into their palm.  Runaan’s hand landed heavy on Rayla’s shoulder and she suppressed a squeak as he pulled her closer to him again. “You realize,” He said very carefully above her. “If the spell is broken , rather than released or completed , it still takes its blood price?  Breaking the binding itself would result in the same thing as removing the limb ahead of time.  It would have killed you.”

Ram winced. “Which is why I did it, and not Rayla.”

The hand on her shoulder tightened further, and Rayla looked up at Runaan in amazement. “What?”

“I had a feeling if we were wrong, the consequences could be death,” Ram said honestly. “And also that if I let Rayla get herself killed, I would be dying anyway when I came to report it, given . . .” He gestured at the way Runaan was looming over Rayla’s shoulders.

“You were right,” Runaan admitted coolly, and Rayla started at his admission.  He would have killed Ram over her?

“That’s just the bad news though,” Callum said quickly. “And it turned out okay.  They couldn’t cut through the bindings, so Ram’s burned, but he said he’d be okay.”

Callisto grunted. “He will be.  Someone with two workin’ hands, cut that gauntlet off as best ye can so the threads don’t keep gettin’ into the burn wounds.  I don’t have any sootheberry cream, but sootheberry juice will be better than nothin’, he should heal in a week or two.  The gauntlet took the worst of the damage.”

“The mercenary was the only human who realized what you were?” Runaan directed the question down at Rayla and she nodded. “Good.  Ram?”

“I threatened him,” Ram said easily. “But I didn’t touch him.  We’ll be long gone before he gets up the courage to come after us.” he dug in his coat pocket with his good hand. “I got the leechleaf.  The herbalist didn’t have any left, but the apothecary had some dried.”

Callisto grunted. “Dried is all I was really hopin’ for this time of year without a grow house.  This should be enough for a treatment or two, at least.  I’ll get . . . I’ll need someone with two good hands to make it.”

“I’ve got it.” Skor rumbled from behind them, placing a hand on their left shoulder. “Ram’s hand, too.  Come here.” His voice was rasping like he’d been talking a lot this morning, and Rayla frowned with concern, glancing over at Corvus.  What exactly had happened while they were gone?

“And the egg?” Runaan prompted.

“We didn’t find anyone in the village, but we did hear about someone who might be able to help.” Ezran said. “There’s a miracle healer we can go find on the mountain close to the village!  There’s a wolf down in the village who lost one of her legs as a puppy, and the miracle healer gave her a fourth leg back.”

“The animal doctor and the girl and her family all agreed about what happened,” Callum supported his brother. “The only problem is it’s up a mountain called the Cursed Caldera.”

Rayla winced. “But with all of us together, we should be okay,” She said hopefully.

Ram groaned even as he held his arm still to let Skor cut his gauntlet away from his binding. “It’s not cursed .  They pointed the mountain out as we were leaving the village - they’re talking about Lunar Peak.”

“There shouldn’t be anything up there but the Guardian, though, should there?” Andromeda asked, visibly worried.

Runaan sighed through his nose above her. “It doesn’t matter.  Whether it lies with this miracle healer or the Guardian, it seems our best hope lies up the mountain, at the Moon Nexus.  Break camp.  By the time we’re finished with that, Skor should be finished with Ram’s arm, and we can get moving.  For the benefit of those who went to the village - Corvus will be traveling with us for the time being.  One wrong move and that changes very, very quickly.”

It was the most practical option, but Rayla reflexively glanced at Skor to gauge his reaction.  He appeared to be entirely focused on Ram’s arm and ignoring the statement.  Maybe that was why he was so raspy, though.  Had he argued against it?

Runaan’s words about their destination filtered through again when Callum asked innocently, “What’s a Nexus?”

“Did you say the Moon Nexus?” She yelped. “ That’s where we are?”

“It’s where we’re going,” Runaan replied with a chuckle as he let go of her, stepping around to begin breaking camp.  She followed him automatically, rolling up their blankets and bedrolls from the ground. “Each Primal Source has a Nexus, a center of its power.  It isn’t so much a source as a concentration.  The Moon Nexus is a place of great power that was once the center of Moonshadow civilization as well.  Much of the mountains of southern and eastern Katolis were once our homelands.  We were driven away from them after the Mage Wars, but the Nexus cannot be moved, so we were forced to abandon it.  We left it in ruins, and to this day, a guardian remains there to ensure its power is not discovered, that it may never be abused.”

Rayla felt nearly giddy with excitement. “I didn’t realize we passed so close to it on our way into Katolis,” She said.

“If you studied our maps -” Ram started, and yelped - Rayla glanced over and assumed based on the direction of his glower that Skor had poked him unnecessarily hard with the sootheberry juice he was spreading on his wrist. 

“The maps are old!” She huffed. “An’ they were never that accurate about spaces anyway.”

“Children.” Runaan said with his usual exasperated tone, and she broke off the argument almost automatically. 

Callum interrupted before Ram could protest being lumped in with the children again. “So wait, are you saying there’s actually been a Moonshadow elf - just one - living in Katolis this entire time?  Whoa!”

“She has not always been alone, but yes,” Runaan said with a chuckle. “The Guardian there now is a mage of immense power and . . . unique wisdom, who has held her post for over three hundred years.” 

Callum kept asking questions, and Rayla couldn’t help doing the same.  Runaan and Skor were among the privileged few who had actually witnessed the Nexus before, and met the Guardian, but Runaan fielded their questions without requiring Skor’s participation.  Rayla noticed Ezran sticking close to the other swordsman, though, and Skor smiling faintly down at the boy as they packed up and set out from the cave.  

Surely, between the miracle healer and the Guardian, someone would know what to do about the egg.  Either way, she would get to see the place that was once the center of her people’s civilization, was still the center of their power.  She wondered if she’d feel any different as she got closer to it, and opted to ask Runaan.

The answer was likely not.

It did not deter her eagerness.  They were so close to success.  This had to work.

Chapter 20: Lunar Caldera

Summary:

The party begins the trek up the Cursed Caldera, known to the elves as Lunar Peak. They encounter a new friend, and get some old stories, along the way.

Everyone was tense, and Ezran was already tired.  Callisto had said he probably would be, after everything he’d been through the day before, but he didn’t really understand why.  He’d been swimming for a few minutes, and it had been really cold, but he slept for he didn’t even know how long afterward, and had awoken nice and warm and dry wrapped up in the elves’ blankets and Ram’s clothes in the cave.  They’d had that snowball fight, he guessed, and then they’d been worried in town for the egg.

He still worried for it.  The little bits of movement he’d heard from inside it, the warmth it radiated, the feeling of a little sleeping presence, had gone largely still and quiet.  There was still something, but the presence was so much fainter. 

Maybe he was just discouraged and that was why his feet were so heavy as they hiked up the sharp, rocky slopes of the mountain.  Callum didn’t seem to be delayed at all, and Ezran pouted at his brother’s back as he scurried ahead at Runaan’s heels, asking him endless questions.  He could use some help back here. 

At least Skor and Callisto were walking back with him.  Andromeda and Rayla were ahead too, and Ram was so far in front Ezran kept losing sight of him.  Corvus had tried to walk in the rear, but several of the elves had bared their fangs at him and Runaan had ordered him shortly to stay where he could see him, so he was also far ahead of Ezran.

Ezran glanced over at Skor gratefully just in time to see him wince faintly, and frowned, looking the elf over.  He was walking a bit gingerly on one foot. “Are you okay?” He asked in sudden worry for his new friend.

Skor smiled faintly at him and shrugged.  He snapped his fingers to get Callisto’s attention and signed something over to them. 

Callisto seemed to fall into being his voice as easily as Gren did for Aunt Amaya. “I twisted my ankle on the other trail - when I fell, and dropped you during the avalanche.  I’m sorry about that.”

Ezran blinked at the older man blankly. “That wasn’t your fault.  Bait’s the one who burped.” He pointed out, holding up the glow toad as if to prove it.  Bait turned faintly pink with embarrassment and groaned reluctant agreement. 

Skor’s mouth cracked open in a real smile and he signed something else to Callisto, who dutifully relayed his words as Ezran focused on his hands, habitually trying to pick up familiar signs.  There really weren’t any, given shadow sign wasn’t the same as Katolian sign, but it was hard to break the habit. “I know, little one.  I just feel bad for droppin’ you.  I’m just glad you’re alright.”

That just made Ezran more determined to prove him right, to show that he was okay, that he could keep going.  He squared his shoulders. “You don’t have to feel bad.  Accidents happen to everyone!  But if it helps, I forgive you.” 

The elf laughed softly, the noise rattling somewhere in his chest as Callisto snickered too, and a gentle hand squeezed Ezran’s shoulder gratefully.  The shadow sign for thank you was similar enough that Ezran knew it without Callisto relaying it to him, and he grinned back proudly at catching it.

He still wasn’t as good at sign language as Callum, and now he had to add a whole other sign language to his learning list!  It was worth it for the way it made Aunt Amaya and Skor both smile though.

“Look ahead,” Runaan called from in front of them, and they all looked up. 

“Oh wow, I didn’t know there were so many of you!  Hi hi hi!” The little human girl said brightly from the back of the wolf. “I came to show you how to find the miracle healer!  Come on!” 

Without waiting for an answer, she and the wolf turned around and bounded up the slope ahead. 

“I assume that’s the girl and wolf ye mentioned?” Callisto asked, as they all abruptly stopped, the elves all just sort of staring after her.

Ezran nodded. “Yep.  At least we have someone with us who knows where to find the miracle healer now!  Maybe she won’t be all the way at the top like the Guardian is.” He said, with a cringing look up the slope. 

“Oh, wait, let me introduce you guys!” Callum called, and they all converged on Ellis and Ava when the wolf paused to listen to him.  At least she seemed to realize they needed to talk to each other, unlike the girl on her back. “Everyone, this is Ellis.  Ellis, this is, uh . . . well that’s Rayla, and that’s Runaan, Andromeda, Ram, Skor, Callisto, and also Corvus.  He’s new.  The rest of them we met when they . . . uh.  Broke into our castle trying to kill Ezran.”

They all paused for a moment and Ellis looked around at the elves in sudden confusion and concern.  Ezran suppressed a flash of irritation at his brother for his terrible explanations.  He didn’t have to lead with that! “But we’re past that now,” He said quickly. “They’re our friends.”

With that, the concern melted immediately from Ellis’ face and she was back to beaming at them.  She flipped upside down on Ava’s back to grin at Rayla. “People meet in so many interesting ways!” 

“So, where do we find this miracle healer?” Rayla asked with a smile, as Runaan knelt in front of the wolf with a more serious expression.  He reached for the collar around the wolf’s neck and Ezran met her gaze, the wolf suddenly realizing something and rumbling when he touched it, lifting the stone where he could see it. 

“The truth is, I never found her - she found us.” Ellis said. “We were hiding in a big twisty hollow tree, up near the rim.”

Of course it was up near the top.  Ezran sighed softly. 

“I’ll get us to that tree, the healer will find us there, and she’ll save the egg!” The girl said brightly. 

“And maybe she can help your hands,” Ezran said hopefully. 

“Don’t worry about our hands.  The egg is all that matters now.” Ram said firmly. 

Runaan hummed softly. “I suppose it does not matter much, as our destination remains the same, but I feel this is important to share.  There is likely . . . there is no miracle healer.  The woman this girl - Ellis - encountered was most likely the Guardian of the Nexus.”

“But wait, that doesn’t make any sense,” Callum argued. “We can see that she has four legs now!  I thought moon magic couldn’t do that kind of stuff.”

The wolf whined, and Ezran met her eyes.  She shifted her weight off the leg, pawing at nothing, and he got the sense she felt no weight from it, though it supported her when she stepped back down.  His eyes widened with understanding. “The leg isn’t real,” He blurted out, aware of almost everyone turning to look at him. “It’s just an illusion, isn’t it?  Ava - Ava said so.”

Runaan’s snow-white brows shot towards his hairline as he replied. “Yes, it is.  The collar gives the illusion substance with the gemstone in it.  It is a moonstone etched with the moon rune.  The leg is solid enough to touch, to support her weight, but she likely feels no weight from it, either, and I would wager she’s never injured it again, either, or suffered from the paw being too cold.  That would be too complicated an illusion to maintain without conscious thought.”

“How did you know that?” Callum asked suspiciously, zeroed in on Ezran, and Ezran scowled at him.

“I told you, I can understand animals.” He said, already grumpy from how many years Callum had spent telling him he was wrong.

Callum groaned. “Ezran, we’ve been over this, that’s not true!  Why are you always lying to people about it?”

“Boys,” Runaan said sharply, and Ezran bit the inside of his lip at how much he sounded like - like his dad.

Andromeda frowned. “Wait, have I missed something?  Ezran, you can communicate with the animals?”

“Can you believe this?” Callum said. “Come on, Ez.  Tell the truth.  The first time he did this, I asked him to prove it.  So Ezran said that a group of raccoons had told him there was a treasure hidden behind a waterfall!  But when I went behind the waterfall, did I find a treasure?”

Frustration burned in Ezran’s chest and he stared at the ground, clutching the straps of the backpack that held the egg. “No.” He grumbled bitterly. 

“But did my underwear get soaked?”

“Yes.”

“Case closed!”

“The raccoons were being mischievous!” Ezran protested. “I have since learned you cannot trust raccoons.”

“This is ridiculous.  See, this is why you can’t make friends.” Callum accused.

It was a familiar sore spot and Ezran just scowled at him, choosing not to point out how Callum couldn’t do it and Callum didn’t have any friends either, except for sort of Soren - less now that he was a full Crownguard - and Claudia.  And Callum wasn’t even the prince who had to deal with people lying all the time, since nobody expected him to be in charge of anything once he grew up.

“Callum!” Rayla, Runaan, and Andromeda all barked at once, and Callum actually flinched, and Ezran blinked at them with surprise as he felt someone kneel behind him and Skor’s hand landed on his shoulder protectively. 

“Back off,” Rayla warned.

“That’s quite enough,” Runaan said, at the same time as Andromeda said “That’s enough!” He shot a look at both of them and was the only one to proceed. “I admit that the ability is . . . rare, and I have never heard of it on this side of the border, but . . . tales exist in Xadia of folk capable of understanding the thoughts of animals around them.  It is not impossible, though I am surprised by it occurring here of all places.”

Ezran blinked up at him in amazement. “You believe me?”

Runaan smiled at him, his often cold teal eyes gentle this time. “Yes.  And if this is the response you receive for being honest about it, I do understand why it has not come up before.” He shot Callum a harsher look, raising one eyebrow at him. 

Callisto made a short noise of realization. “Back on the boat, when ye said Bait wanted t’ know if I liked animals - you actually did mean Bait, didn’t you?” They asked in a slightly awed voice.

Ezran nodded, a little ashamed. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me, but I had to ask.  Bait’s a good judge of character.  He liked your answer.” 

The elf smiled at him almost sadly. “I’m glad.”

“So you’re saying that this whole time . . . it was real?” Callum said skeptically.

“Yep.” Ezran said, pouting at him, only partially on purpose.  It had been years since he talked to anyone about this.  No one believed him!  Callum stood with him on most things but this he’d had to keep entirely to himself, because even Callum had told him he was crazy. 

To his surprise, Callum’s shoulders dropped, and his face went serious as he looked down for a minute before looking up at Ezran. “Then . . . I think I owe you an apology, Ezran.”

“Well . . . at least one.” Ezran said, hugging Bait.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.  I promise I’ll never doubt you again.” Callum swore with his hand over his heart. 

Ezran narrowed his eyes at him. “Do you really mean it?”

“I really do.” Callum promised.

Ezran smiled, mischief and a desire for some small vengeance blooming in his heart. “Then you have to do the thing.”

“Here?” Callum glanced at the elves, Corvus, and Ellis. “Now?”

Ezran grinned wider, made his eyes as wide and cute as possible, and nodded wordlessly.

To his delight, Callum just looked at him for a minute before heaving a great sigh and starting to do it.  Ezran clapped a beat for him even as he started laughing, the elves shifting apart to give his brother room to bounce around for the sake of - “Callum’s famous jerkface dance!”

When he looked around at the others, he couldn’t help laughing at the varying reactions.  Ram, Corvus, and Rayla all looked more confused than anything.  Andromeda had both hands covering her mouth but her grin had reached her eyes and her shoulders were shaking as if with laughter.  Runaan appeared mostly stoic, watching Callum’s dance with one raised brow, but Ezran thought he detected a glimmer of a smile pulling at his mouth.  Ellis was just blinking with fascination.  Skor was shaking his head but he was smiling, as if amused in spite of himself, and Callisto was visibly biting their lip to keep from laughing. 

“Knees higher!  Knees higher!” Ezran heckled just to be a brat, and Callum actually did it, started lifting his knees higher, and this was why they had the jerkface dance to begin with.  It was hard to stay mad after Callum apologized when he did something this silly to prove he meant it!

“So, not that this isn’t hilarious, and super adorable,” Ellis said. “But who’s the Guardian, if she’s not a miracle healer who saved my Ava?”

Runaan glanced at the other elves and sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I suppose we have another human guest on this little mission for the time being.” He said wearily. “The Guardian is an elf, a mage left behind to guard the Moon Nexus . . . a place of great power, once the center of Moonshadow elven society, and the greatest concentration of moon magic in the world.  I will explain further as we walk.  It is best we keep moving.  The sooner we reach the peak, the better for the egg.”

 

---

Ten thousand years ago, the mountains in what is now southern and eastern Katolis were home to the Moonshadow elves.  The area was largely inhospitable back then to human farmers, and magical resources grew aplenty upon the slopes.  That is why this caldera appears so  . . . lifeless now.  The magic was stripped from this place when we were driven out.

“I thought humans lost the war, and that’s why we were driven to this side of the continent.  How come you guys didn’t just keep this land as part of Xadia?”

That decision was not made by elves, but by dragons.  It is . . . difficult to argue with an Archdragon.

“Ah.  Uh, yeah, that makes sense.”

In the end, it was not Sol Regem that proposed the split.  A Sunfire queen, ancestor of Queen Aditi and the line that rules the Sunfire kingdom to this day, suggested the breach be made.  Sol Regem used every bit of his power to draw the lava to the surface, together with the other archdragons, and cracked the world in half.  This left the Moonshadow holdings on the wrong side, and the queens - the elf and Luna Tenebris, the dragon queen after Sol Regem stepped down from the throne - agreed that the people of the world should be split along those halves.  Thus Moonshadow elves were driven to Xadia as humans were driven here, to our home.

We destroyed everything we could.  The desolation you see here, the magic that was stripped - we did that to our own home, to keep its power from human hands.  Little to nothing remains of what our civilization once was.  All we have is memory, histories that stretch back to the very first elves to walk this world.

“How can you be sure the histories are true?”

Magic is in everything, little one.  Even what we took from this place could not drain it of everything.  Moon magic is seen in light through the darkness, deception, in illusion, perception, reality.  It is a flip of the coin from the Sun’s truth, the Ocean’s chaos, and the Earth’s life.  It is in deception, in order, and in death.

“That’s why it’s dangerous for someone who’s grieving.  But what does that mean, moon magic is in death?”

What happens to a soul after it dies is no mystery to a Moonshadow elf.  We know where our dead go - to a world beyond this one, to the next phase of their existence.  What is there to fear in that?  In the old days, here at the Moon Nexus, a door could even be opened to that realm, permitting us to speak to the dead, and to pass on quietly if it were our time.  Now, without the Moonhenge and the power of the Nexus, with everything but a shade of its former self, all we can open is a window.  But that is enough, to confirm the histories we keep.  We are meticulous about them - oral stories passed from one generation to the next, calling upon ancestors to ensure they are accurate.

“Some physical books and written histories remain, but so much has been lost over the centuries that the assassins’ oral histories are considered to be the most in-depth and accurate records of elven history in Xadia - among any elf.”

Thank you, Ram.  There are also other elves tasked with preserving what little physical history we could recover . . . but precious little of that survived the trip to Xadia.  It was a harrowing journey with no support from the Xadian side of the newly made breach, and many of our warriors kept busy with the war and the . . . forced emigration of humans even as our own people were subjected to the same conditions further south.  Many, many lives were lost on that journey, and many more were left behind, slaughtered by the angry humans who had just lost their own homes. 

It is said that nearly a hundred thousand Moonshadow elves once lived among these mountains.  Around twenty thousand made the journey successfully into Xadia, after a harrowing war fought mostly on our doorstep and the migration.  While certainly a population not to be degraded, it was a heavy blow, and many of us were driven to desperation.  It took decades to find a place to settle in Xadia, most land there already strong with established communities.  While we could settle in those communities, we could not maintain our own private rituals until we had somewhere to preserve them away from outsiders’ eyes.  Moonshadow Forest was where we eventually landed, a mere twenty-thousand left of a society once five times that.  It is not a large forest, and was not even then, and many of our people did range around Xadia for many years after that . . . though much changed in the next few centuries, and now few of us venture beyond the treeline.

“That’s sad.”

“Yeah.  Why don’t you tell us something happy?”

“Ellis!”

Ha!  Very well, children, shush.  Despite all the death and destruction associated with this place, it is still sacred to our people, and a single guardian is still left here even now.  Near the peak, where the water of the Nexus itself feeds them, flowers and life still continue to grow.  This mountain is the only place on this side of the breach where you can still find the blue roses once cultivated by Moonshadow elves.  On the other side, they are found only in Moonshadow Forest.

“Has anyone ever found the Guardian before?  What happens then?”

She has her ways of keeping this place safe, and a secret.  I shan’t tell you more of that now.  Skor, I’m certain remembers - the rest of my elves should , and it will be an excellent training exercise in observation skills if they do not.

“I don’t suppose I count as a kid for this?”

No, little blade, you do not.

“Didn’t think so.”

Do not look so discouraged, I’m sure you’re all up to the task.

“I hate it when you look at us like that.  It always means we’re about to be put through-”

“I SEE A HUGE SCARY MONSTER!”

---

 

Callum nearly swallowed his own scream as he whirled around to face where Ellis was pointing, only for Ava to bound up next to him with her tongue lolling out calmly. “But it’s dead!” The girl on her back added cheerfully. 

“Then why would you say it like that ?” He cried.

“Like WHAT?” She called in exactly the same tone, grinning over her shoulder, clearly unaware of her own volume. 

“Well that started a little earlier than I expected.” Runaan muttered, and when Callum looked nervously over his shoulder, the older man didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned despite the giant dead monster ahead of them.

All the same, Callum waited for him to go first in approaching the creature.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ezran said, frowning, clearly not having the same concerns.  He’d slipped around Callum in a few seconds and was already right next to the creature, and Callum bolted to his side just in time to restrain him from reaching out to it.

“Don’t touch it.” He warned.

“Look at these circles.  What a strange birthmark.” Ezran said thoughtfully.

Rayla was scowling, tensely. “That’s not a birthmark.  That’s a bite mark.  Somethin’s drained all its blood.”

“Rayla, Ram, Andromeda, Corvus, Callisto, the five of you scout ahead.” Runaan ordered. “Make sure we don’t run across anything worse than this.  Skor and I will remain here for the moment with the children, to keep them relatively secure.”

The other elves and Corvus all nodded, and each sped off up the slopes of the Cursed Caldera.  Rayla, Andromeda, and Corvus split into one group with Ram and Callisto in another.  That left Callum here, alone with Runaan, Skor, Ellis, and Ezran.

Runaan knelt beside them and held out a hand towards the body of the monster.  The tattoo on the back of his hand seemed to shimmer, but Callum couldn’t be sure before he grunted and shifted his weight back into a comfortable seat on his knees. “Ezran, Ellis, Callum, are you willing to keep quiet from the others if I tell you the truth about this creature?”

Callum frowned. “Wait, why would you want to keep this a secret?  If you know what this thing is or what happened to it, wouldn’t you want everyone to know so they know what to do with it?  I’m getting better with this mage thing but I don’t want to be fighting some big scary unknown with just you!”

Runaan chuckled. “It will be fine, Callum, I promise you that.  No harm will come to anyone regardless of whether I tell you or not.  However, the others . . . apparently need a bit of a refresher on some of their training, so there is something about this that I can’t give them just yet.  I think, however, it will make all of this somewhat less frightening for the three of you.”

“Yes please.” Ezran said and glowered at Callum when Callum opened his mouth to argue again. 

That smile tugged at Runaan’s mouth again. “The creature isn’t real any more than Ava’s leg.  This is one of the Guardian’s illusions, sent to terrify travelers.  I imagine a creature capable of making such marks is not far away, but it is merely an image.  Whether they have true substance or not, I am unsure.  In a place close to the Nexus like this, some illusions may gain solidity over time, fed by wild magics.  They may act outside of the caster’s control, if left to run mindlessly.  Illusion is a tricky magic to master.  Regardless, the creatures aren’t capable of harming us physically.  Nothing this big could survive up here in such desolation.”

Callum blinked at him. 

“Oh, that’s a relief.” Ellis slumped over Ava’s back and beamed at them. “So all the horrifying monsters and bloodcurdling terrors I saw the first time - those weren’t real either?”

“Likely not,” Runaan agreed with a bit of a wry look.

“You knew they weren’t real?” Ezran asked Skor.

The quiet elf smiled crookedly at the boy and tapped Runaan’s arm, signing something to him.  Callum squinted at the hand signs.  Shadow sign was different from Katolian, but there were definitely common movements, and he thought he’d be able to pick them up pretty quickly if he focused and listened . . . and the other elves translated as well as his mom and Gren always had.

“I’ve been here before.  We both have.” Runaan said, nodding to Skor. “The others should well remember, given their lessons on the concentrated wild magic in Moonshadow Forest, that not everything in places such as this can be trusted as reality.  The illusions here are specifically crafted by the Guardian for menacing travelers to keep them from going too far.”

Skor suddenly gave Runaan’s shoulder a push and pointed behind them. 

Callum didn’t really have time to process what he was seeing before he gasped, some of the air knocked from his lungs by the sudden force with which Runaan scooped him up around the ribs and bolted with Callum just sort of slumped over his good arm as Skor did the same for Ezran.  A gigantic worm smashed into the ground where they had just been standing, and Callum wheezed for a whole new reason. 

“Is that an illusion?” He demanded. 

“Yes, but I’m not taking any chances with it being one of the ones with a bit of substance, not with your lives.” Runaan put him back down on his feet once clear, and pushed him to get moving. “Follow the others, we’re leaving it here!”

Callum took another look at the monster and then spared a moment to look for Ezran and Ellis.  Ezran was back on Skor’s shoulders and the elf was straightening up from getting him up there.  Ellis was already bounding ahead on Ava’s back, so Callum obediently bolted.

Illusions or not, that thing was scary, and he had no intentions of sticking around to find out what Runaan meant by it having a bit of substance.

Notes:

I know the narration in the middle is a break from my usual writing style, but literally nothing was happening for that whole section of time except them walking. It didn't feel worth it to write out "he said" every two seconds.

Chapter 21: Wonderstorm

Summary:

The assassins get a reminder of some old lessons, the group reaches the rim and the hollow tree, and the Guardian of the Nexus appears. And c'mon I titled it the same as the episode y'all know Zym hatches in this one.

“There it is!” Ellis said brightly, pointing up at a twisted tree silhouetted in moonlight on the horizon, far up the slope. “That’s the tree I hid in with my Ava, where the miracle healer found us!  Well, the Guardian.”

“We should be able to make that within the hour.” Runaan estimated.

Privately, Callisto suspected he was overestimating the children’s capabilities.  It hadn’t escaped their notice how heavy little Ezran’s steps were and how the boy’s head hung down as they walked once they had caught up with the scouts.  Besides, they had other obstacles to deal with.

“Spiders.” They muttered like a swear as they used their glaive to cut away some webbing from the path ahead, keeping it at arm’s length.  Should they be using their full length glaive with one hand like this?  No.  Were they doing it anyway to stay away from the damned spiders?  Yes. “Why did it have t’be f- spiders that survived over here?”

Ezran tilted his head at them. “Are you afraid of spiders, Callisto?” He asked curiously. “They’re not so bad.”

“I maintain that anyone with an ounce of sense is at least a little afraid of spiders,” Ram insisted from ahead of them, also scowling at the webs with his ears laid back, and waiting while Rayla rolled her eyes and cut a path for him with her longer swords. 

“Anyone?” Runaan prompted with an amused sort of tone. 

“Yes,” Ram said haughtily. 

“I’m not afraid of spiders, I’m just reasonably cautious of things that can kill me,” Rayla retorted. “Which is what you should be.” She pointed at him with her sword and an unimpressed expression.

Callisto growled with their own ears lying flat. “I actually almost agree with him.  Spiders are a blight upon existence and I for one am terrified.” They cast a halfhearted glare at Skor, who was closest to them, and found him just smiling fondly at them.  Their cheeks heated up under the soft look and they quickly turned back to the path and yelped as they almost ran into a thread, ducking quickly around it instead. 

Corvus was staring at them in confusion. “What kind of spider could make a web this big?” He asked suspiciously, examining some of the webs closely. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Magical spiders,” Runaan replied with no small amount of amusement.

He was taking far too much pleasure in all of their distress, in Callisto’s humble opinion. 

“Did you hear that?” Ram yelped. 

“No, everyone’s too busy talkin’.” Rayla replied spitefully.

“Hush!” Callum shushed her, looking around suspiciously.  Ellis and Ava were even quiet, with the wolf’s ears laid back.  Callisto cursed in their own mind as they pricked their ears up to listen, grip tight on their glaive. 

The rustling of the webs sent a chill up their spine.  It was the spiders.  They knew it was the spiders.  How many were there, to have built a nesting colony this size?

In the distance there was a voice.  Someone moaned as if in pain and Callisto swore under their breath out loud. 

“Did you hear-?” Callum asked, worriedly.

“Yep.  Ignorin’ it.  Keep walkin’.” Rayla ordered, finally sounding a bit tense herself, and marched ahead.  Smart kid.  Those voices weren’t real.  They were never real.  There was no reason for anyone else to be up here.

“But what if someone really needs help?” Ezran protested, tugging at her arm. 

Runaan put a hand over his mouth briefly, his eyes sparkling entirely too much, and Callisto frowned at him.  That was out of character.  In what world was it funny for a small child to be concerned about someone’s life?  Someone needed to explain to Ezran that these voices weren’t . . .

“Ezran, ye have a good heart.” Rayla was telling the boy sincerely, and then her expression and ears both went flat as she added, “It’s super annoyin’.  I guess maybe a couple of us can go check.”

“No.” Callisto snapped. “No one’s leaving the group.  There’s no reason for anyone else t’be up here.  It wasn’t real.  Whatever we heard, it’s not real.  You know that, Rayla - this is a place of power just as much as Moonshadow Forest, we don’t follow the voices.”

Her eyes widened at the reminder and she winced. “Right.  Yeah.”

“There’s always voices in the Forest and few of them are real,” Ram explained for the human children’s benefit, though he had both his daggers in hands and he only spared them a glance while searching the webs for the things they could hear shuffling around them. “If you follow them, they pull you into the darkness, into the wild, and then - well.  Most don’t come back.”

“That’s enough of those stories,” Runaan admonished. “We keep moving.  Do not split up.  If you hear something, check with the rest of us.  If no one else heard it, neither did you.”

They kept walking.  Callisto hugged close to Skor’s path, letting him cover their wounded side.  He did so without complaint, even conceding to pulling out his sword for their comfort though his eyes crinkled with amusement when he did so.  The human children were sticking quite close to Runaan now.  Ram and Rayla were scouting ahead, attached at the hip, and Andromeda and Corvus walked together as well, both seeming hardly bothered by the spiders.  The human looked a bit unsettled by the sheer scale of the webbing, but Andromeda was just wary.

Thus it was that Rayla and Ram were the first to actually confront the spider.  Ram shrieked while Callisto’s eyes were on the children and they flinched, brandishing their glaive up only to see him hiding behind Rayla.  The girl was facing off against one of the largest spiders they’d ever seen and it took every ounce of discipline in their body not to recoil from it as well.  How could something that size have survived in Katolis of all places?  Most every magical creature in Katolis was stunted and small compared to their Xadian counterparts, without-

Wait.  The spider chittered and postured but it wasn’t outright attacking even as they all scattered for cover.  Callisto wasn’t immune to the panic, darting behind some rocks with Skor as soon as the others moved, their heart pounding in their chest as their nerves warred between not wanting to take their eyes off it and wanting to get away. 

How could something that large have survived here?

A brief glance around revealed nothing but desolation under the webbing.  There was nothing for it to feed on but the magic of the Nexus, and while that was necessary, it wouldn’t be enough to support a physical creature.  Spiders still needed to eat.  One this size would have a corresponding appetite, too, it would be willing to feed on things as large as drakes in Xadia.  What even lived on this side of the breach that was big enough for them?

Unless - 

Runaan had been amused .

He’d mentioned a training exercise.

Callisto glanced at Skor suspiciously.  He raised his brows at their expression at first, and then a slow smile spread across his mouth as he nodded slightly. 

They peeked around the rock at the spider, which hadn’t moved, and was still blocking their direct path up the slope, chittering aggressively. 

A glance over at the rock behind which Runaan was hiding, nearly standing straight behind the stone in order to give the gaggle of children around him room to cower, revealed that Ezran didn’t look afraid either.  Neither did Callum or Ellis.  If anything, Ezran looked a bit delighted, and was giggling about something.

The Guardian of the Nexus used illusions to keep humans afraid of the slopes.  This creature wasn’t behaving like a normal spider.  There was nothing around that it could eat. 

“It’s not fucking real , is it?” They hissed to Skor.

His smile broke into a fond grin and he shook his head.

“What are we going to do?” Ram’s voice had gone up several octaves and when they managed to find him, he was cowering behind a tree and Rayla this time, wide-eyed and nearly panicking. 

Runaan at least had the decency to look a bit concerned at that, but Callisto didn’t want to gamble on his mercy when he’d apparently decided they all needed a lesson in being observant and aware of their surroundings.  They all should have realized that a place like the Moon Nexus would be rife with illusions just like their forest was, especially with the Guardian shaping those illusions into reasons to keep the humans away. 

“It’s not real.” They called irritably. “It’s an illusion .  The Guardian’s using it to scare the humans back down the mountain.  Why else would a creature this big be wandering around here where there’s nothing to eat?”

Andromeda groaned deep in her chest and audibly facepalmed. “Oh, we should have realized.”

“What about the creature down the -” Ram broke off and growled, glowering at Runaan. “That other creature that we passed before, that was dead - that wasn’t real either, was it?”

“No,” Runaan admitted, smiling gently at them. “It wasn’t.  I was a bit disappointed you all didn’t realize that.  There isn’t enough food around for a creature that size, either.”

There really wasn’t enough food around for anything to be confined to the mountain, except perhaps some birds.  Callisto groaned and rubbed their own face. “You’re a cruel, cruel teacher sometimes, Runaan.”

“You did figure it out eventually,” Runaan replied placidly. “And no one was going to get hurt.  My apologies to you both, though, I didn’t realize the next creature we would encounter would be a spider, or I might have had second thoughts.  I know the two of you are -” there was that damned smile again - “uncomfortable with the creatures.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Ram gingerly lowered himself from the tree with a distrustful glower at the illusion spider, which appeared to be stuck in their path, making the same few chitters on repeat. 

Callisto scowled at Runaan too. “Absolutely bloody terrified,” They corrected, and flinched momentarily when they felt something on their shoulder before realizing it was Skor’s hand.  Before he could remove it they tucked their glaive into the crook of their arm and grasped his hand to hold it there, looking over at him gratefully.  While he’d clearly known as well, he had at least been there to comfort them through their fear. “Thank you.” They murmured softly to him.

Skor smiled much more softly than Runaan, and nodded, giving their shoulder a squeeze.  He brushed his hand down their arm.  It wasn’t quite a proper scent mark but it was as close as they generally got these days, and they took comfort in his assurance.

“Don’t worry, Ram,” Rayla was teasing him, smirking broadly. “I’ll still protect ye from the big scary illusion spider.”

Ram wrinkled his nose at her but he did, in fact, keep her and Callum between himself and the spider as they moved past it.  Callisto couldn’t help the way their heart beat faster and the terrified quiver in their ears as they had to walk towards the creature, and then walk away with their back to it while it kept making those noises .  It helped that Skor walked right at their heel and kept his hand on their shoulder or arm, something to remind them he was there to help.

“There should be nothing on these slopes worth fearing, anymore,” Runaan said with a note of regret as they left the spider behind. “The only thing we left worth protecting was the Nexus, and the Guardian’s illusions have been all that’s necessary to protect it for centuries now.”

“Centuries?” Corvus asked, frowning curiously.

“Magic is a muscle or a skill like any other, for an elf,” Runaan said, with a bit more chill in his words than when he spoke to Callum about the topic. “Those who exercise it more gain a greater well of it within themselves.  Over time, a creature of magic may become more magic than flesh - and the flesh ceases to age.  The Guardian of the Nexus has held her post for over three centuries.”

“So . . . how old are you?” Ellis asked. “You can do magic too!  We saw you!  When your hand glowed around that other thing, it did it did!”

He had fucking known all the way back there, the bastard.  Callisto huffed, but tilted their head, curious how he would respond with all the humans present.  It really wouldn’t tell them much, they supposed, so there was no real reason to keep it a secret, but it also was the sort of personal information that assassins usually wouldn’t speak about outside of the forest.  

Runaan seemed to be having a similar internal debate before just sighing. “I’m thirty-five.  I don’t have nearly the magical stores that an Archmage like the Guardian has - I just know a thing or two about illusions.”

“A thing or two,” Andromeda echoed almost mockingly. “Not as though you’re the best in the Assassins’ Guild with illusions or anything.”

Rayla scoffed. “It’s true though, he’s pretty weak as a mage compared to - uh.  Compared to his husband.”

Callisto barked a laugh at her casual roast of her guardian, as Runaan scoffed in disbelief. “That’s enough of that,” Runaan said loftily. “We’re starting to get into the sort of information we don’t share outside the Forest.”

“Sure,” Rayla teased. “That’s why ye want me t’ stop.”

Callisto chuckled and focused on the path ahead, once more secure in the knowledge that the creatures they were hearing were nothing more than illusion.  Perhaps Runaan was right, in that case.  His estimation of how long it would take them to reach the rim made a lot more sense now.  They’d make the peak before dawn.  

 

They did in fact reach the hollow tree well before dawn.  Andromeda had been eyeing the way the children were walking for a while now, noticing how Ezran’s eyes were dull and tired and his steps were heavy.  He needed to be carried over the gaps that required jumping, and Skor and Callisto traded off when Skor fumbled a landing.  His twisted ankle was clearly still bothering him.  Even Callum’s enthusiasm for learning about the history of the mountain seemed to be waning as the night wore on.

When they reached the shelter and Ellis and Ava dived into it, the girl whooped happily. “This is it!  This is where we were hiding!  Look look look!”

As the boys and Rayla followed her in, Andromeda stopped Runaan with a touch on his elbow.  He looked down at her with a brow raised to prompt her. “We should stop to rest,” She said softly. “The children are exhausted, Runaan.  They aren’t used to this sort of travel, and the hike was difficult for them.  They need time to recover - and if I’m being honest, so do I.” It felt as though stone weights were attached to her bones as she moved and her hand was still annoyingly cold. 

Runaan looked from her to the hollow tree, where Ezran had already collapsed into a heap on the ground and looked half-asleep, and Callum wasn’t far behind.  He sighed a bit through his nose but nodded. “Very well.” He said just as softly, and then raised his voice to the others. “Take a few moments to rest in the shelter.”

“Don’t we have to get the egg to the top as soon as possible?” Callum asked worriedly. 

“Traveling harder now will do us no good if half of us collapse before we reach our destination,” Andromeda replied for him, and carefully slumped down into a seat just inside the hollow too, closing her eyes briefly with relief as she finally was able to relax her muscles. 

The inside of the tree was quite broad, and they all could have taken shelter within it, but within minutes a light drew their attention from outside.  Andromeda heaved herself back up to investigate as the children followed her, looking up at the sky.  Moonlight seemed to coalesce into something as bright as day as a large bird descended from the glow of the moon.  When it landed, a tall elven woman in a mage’s robes dismounted from its back to survey them all. 

Andromeda glanced at the other elves to see their reactions, as her own heart pounded in her chest at greeting such a powerful figure in their cultural history.  Ram’s eyes were wide and his hands were clasped into a circle, practically vibrating in his skin.  Callisto’s face was smooth and blank and they leaned on their glaive, but their head was slightly lowered with respect and their eyes were bright and interested.  Skor looked vaguely disinterested and maybe a bit uncomfortable, standing a step behind Callisto, and Rayla looked distinctly unimpressed.  Runaan stepped forward with his hands clasped into a ball in front of his chest, a familiar but old Moonshadow gesture of respect, and bowed slightly to the woman.

“By the Moon’s guidance, Archmage.” He greeted, formally. “For those who have not been here before, this is the Guardian of the Moon Nexus, Archmage Lujanne, one of the most accomplished mages ever produced by Moonshadow Forest.”

The Guardian’s curious expression broke into an amused smile and she chuckled openly. “Ah, I remember you.” She said with a teasing tone. “Still quite the charmer, aren’t you, Runaan?”

Andromeda blinked with surprise as Runaan sighed with exasperation, a smile tugging at his lips. “And still quite married, thank you, Lujanne.”

The Guardian laughed. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for being curious!  And don’t think I’ve forgotten you, either, young man.” She nodded around Callisto’s shoulder at Skor, who winced slightly.

“Even if I wasn’t, you would have more luck with . . . any of the other adults.” Runaan said dryly. 

Lujanne chuckled again but his mention of adults seemed to remind her that there were children present as well, and she looked over at them curiously.  She smiled kindly at them. “I suppose my ruse with the little wolf’s leg has been exposed.”

Runaan coughed politely. “It seemed pertinent.”

She gave him another look and walked over to pet the large wolf.  She didn’t even have to bend down to scratch behind her ears. “I remember you hiding in the tree with that little cub, both so frightened and sad.” She reflected aloud. “I saw she had lost her leg, and I understood that humans would have trouble accepting her.  But I knew her spirit was strong, and that was all that really mattered.”

This kindness was so . . . almost foreign.  Altruism was uncommon among their people, at least to strangers, and especially to humans, and Andromeda’s heart suddenly ached sharply realizing how much they had rejected in the name of self-defense.  How far had they gone to protect themselves?  At what point did their violence and coldness cross the line from self-defense?

“To help you, I created an illusion - a leg that others would see and feel even though it wasn’t real.  I enchanted the moonstone collar to hold the spell.  She never needed that fourth leg to be happy.  Everyone else did.” Lujanne said proudly, removing the collar.  The wolf’s fourth leg vanished in a burst of golden light. 

Runaan cleared his throat. “Ava is also steadied by the solidity of the leg.  Given the girl uses her as a mount, I would argue she very much does need it to function in that capacity.”

Lujanne huffed at him. “Must you ruin my mystery?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I came up to help them find the miracle healer!  But then Runaan said it was just you.” Ellis said brightly. “Thank you for saving my Ava, however you did it.”

Lujanne chuckled warmly but she looked up at the rest of them with a concerned frown. “But you all came here looking for a healer?” She asked, her eyes lingering on Andromeda and Callisto’s wounded arms and the way Skor was leaning his weight away from one leg, Ram’s tattered glove and the deep bruising up Runaan’s bicep.  Even Rayla’s arm was dangerously bruised at this point. 

“We needed greater wisdom than we could find elsewhere, at least,” Ram said anxiously, gesturing to Ezran.

The boy pulled his backpack off his shoulders and presented it to Lujanne. “The help we need is real.  An illusion won’t help us.” He said, and opened the flap to reveal the dangerously dim dragon egg. 

Lujanne gasped. 

“It’s the egg of the dragon prince,” Andromeda explained without taking a moment to think. “It was stolen, not destroyed.”

“We saved it,” Rayla added, gesturing to herself and the princes. “Or, we were tryin’ t’ save it and return it to its mother, but there was a terrible accident, and-”

The guardian put a hand up in a stopping motion, and Rayla stopped, and Andromeda swallowed her own support as well, edging closer to look too at where the mage was examining the egg.  She touched it briefly and shook her head. “Its life is fading quickly.  The only chance of saving it now would be to hatch it.”

“How do we do that?” Callum asked urgently.

“Sky dragons can only be hatched in the eye of a storm,” The Guardian explained, and Andromeda’s heart plummeted to her feet. “And the weather is clear for miles.” 

“No.  That can’t be.  There has to be a way to save it.” Ezran insisted.

The light in the egg faded darker even as they spoke and Andromeda’s eyes burned, a lump forming in her throat.  She stepped over to Rayla as the girl’s eyes welled up and she shook her head with a silent snarl. “I dropped it,” Rayla growled. “This is all my fault.”

“Rayla . . .” Runaan began, and as Andromeda hugged her friend, he brushed his hand over her shoulders as well. “It was an accident, darling.”

“I let you all down.  I let the world down.” Rayla’s shoulders shook as she came close to sobbing. 

“You tried, Rayla.” Ezran insisted, even as his wide eyes welled up with tears as well. “You’re so good, and brave.” He hugged her too, and Rayla wrapped her arms around whoever she could reach and finally gave in to the sobs, dropping to her knees.  Andromeda let her go, stepping back to give Runaan room to gather his daughter and the child into a reassuring hug.  

Callisto’s glaive was dismantled and back in its sheaths, and their good hand was clenched tightly in Skor’s.  They both looked fragile at best, and tears were leaking from Skor’s eyes while Callisto still seemed frozen in a moment of fear.  Ram, though, Ram was trembling visibly with his hand clasped over his mouth. 

“We can’t go home,” He rasped when she looked at him, and he met her gaze. “If anyone finds out what we tried - and failed -”

The very air seemed to turn crushing as Andromeda realized he was right.  As long as they vanished, it could be assumed they were captured or somehow prevented from completing their mission.  If it was found that they had abandoned it, tried to bring home the dragon prince but in fact caused his death , Moonshadow Forest was doomed.  Their families - she would never see Elyrin again.  She could never go home, she couldn’t even be Ghosted, she would lose her husband, every plan they had made to have a family after this mission was over -

She’d only come on this damned mission because Runaan asked her to, requested she take just this one more before retiring to be a mother, because he needed her skills.  It had been selfish, he had wanted her because he knew she’d be one of the best to keep Rayla safe if the girl lost her nerve.  And now they were all doomed.  She couldn’t even be that angry at him, knowing she would have done the same in his position, knowing he was losing his own husband and chance at a future family too from this. 

Ram’s touch startled her but when she looked and met his eyes again his face crumpled with sympathy, and she gave in and hugged him tight.  Ram burrowed into her shoulder, trembling. “My father’s alone,” he choked into her coat. “I’m leaving him alone , Andromeda, I -”

“I know,” She hugged him tighter and squeezed her eyes shut as her tears burned tracks down her face. 

“I know what I have to do,” Callum’s voice was shockingly strong from beside them and while she couldn’t quite let go, she loosened her grip enough to look at him in her startled reaction.  Ram looked too, staying bent to be under her sight line.

The human was brandishing his Primal Stone like a weapon.  Andromeda didn’t really understand what he was doing. 

“Callum-” Runaan started, reaching one arm towards him around Rayla and Ezran.

It didn’t slow the boy down.  He raised the Primal Stone up and then dashed it upon the ground.  Andromeda flinched instinctively, the flash of light too intense to look at, as if lightning struck the ground where the stone shattered.  Wind whipped around them and thunder roared in her ears and she clutched Ram tighter, doing her best to keep her footing as they were suddenly blasted with winds so high they stole her breath. 

“What the hell did he do?” Ram was almost drowned out in the sudden burst of sound, even from right beside her, as lightning seemed to strike again towards the sky, and a violent storm built abruptly around them.

“No!” Ezran cried in the distance and Andromeda squinted through the wind.

The egg was rolling towards the cliff.  Rayla broke free of Runaan’s protective grasp and bolted for it on unsteady feet.  Even Andromeda hardly dared to rush in this weather. “Rayla!” Runaan called after her with real fear in his voice, but with Ezran holding onto him for balance he didn’t follow her. 

Andromeda started after them instead and Ram pulled her back down to kneel. “Someone needs to help her!” She snapped.

“No one else needs to fall off a cliff because she decided to be a hero!” Ram retorted. “More hands will only crowd the egg if she catches up to it anyway, it won’t help anyone catch it!”

Andromeda snarled at him but couldn’t fight free of his grip nor truly contest his logic, except that more hands meant more attempts to get to it or to help Rayla once she caught it.  Skor and Callisto and the Guardian were closer to them anyway.  When she looked, Rayla was actively running, and the egg toppled over the edge of the cliff.

Instead of stumbling after it, luckily, Rayla threw herself forward and swept the egg back towards her chest with her arm.  She fell onto her back with it clutched to her body and stayed there for a moment, chest visibly heaving even from a distance.

After a minute she rolled onto her knees and then her feet, staying low to the ground as she tried to push against the wind back towards the safety of the tree.  Skor and Callisto both moved to help her, but Skor’s weak ankle failed him and he ended up on his own knees out of reach.  Callisto batted a branch from the air with their glaive before it could strike Rayla, and folded it up to catch her shoulder and steady her once she got in reach.  Andromeda pushed Ram away, and this time he let go, both of them moving to support the girl now that she had the egg in hand and their course was clear.  Runaan passed Ezran’s support over to Callum and followed suit.

The five of them formed a windbreak around Rayla as best they could, Andromeda wincing as smaller sticks and stones blown by the wind struck her.  Runaan folded Rayla into his arms, the egg tucked safely between them as the rest of the assassins blocked them in.  Andromeda felt an unfamiliar hand and looked up to see Corvus had joined them as well in their efforts to shield the two young lives upon which the fate of the world rested.

It took several of them to keep Rayla from flying into the air as the wind began to pull them upwards.  Andromeda held onto whoever was in reach, helping to weigh her down, feeling the tug even under her own feet.  It crossed her mind to wonder what was their plan if anything else came up.  What happened next?

The wind abruptly began to die down, though the noise did not.  A circle formed around them with dust and debris still flew just as violently, but the center was relatively calm.  The eye of the storm.

The Guardian stood up from where her phoenix had been sheltering her, her hands folded in front of her in a prayer.  Lightning sparked through the wind and clouds entrapping them, and Rayla pulled away from Runaan enough for them all to see it spark across the shell of the egg as well.  The energy arced from the walls of wind to the egg, between them, and it seemed everyone had the thought at the same time as the elves all parted around Rayla.  Corvus moved half a beat later than the rest, pushed back by Runaan’s arm across his chest, but he went without trouble, and Rayla carefully placed the egg on the ground.

The lightning continued to pick up, striking the egg and crackling over its surface again and again.  Andromeda’s breath felt caught in her throat.  Was it working?  Was this what this was supposed to look like?

The egg righted itself without a touch, and light flashed around it in a rainbow.  The glow became more and more intense until it was blinding and Andromeda ducked away from it.  Lightning roared across its surface. 

All at once the wind and lightning seemed to dissipate, the glow fading from behind her eyelids.  A thud sounded as the egg once again hit the stone.  Andromeda didn’t dare open her eyes for a moment, and the tension in the air was palpable.  She held her breath. 

Ezran gasped in delight and she finally opened her eyes.

A crack had formed across the egg’s surface.

Another crack followed, and a bit of the shell fell away to reveal scales surrounding a closed dragon eye.  The rest of the shell broke free in larger sections as the little dragon stretched up for the first time, pawed with no coordination at its surroundings, and tumbled out of the basket formed by what was once an egg. 

Runaan was moving almost before anyone else recovered from the sight, producing a rag and waterskin from his pockets.  Andromeda couldn’t for the life of her figure out what those were for until Ezran cried, “His eyes are stuck.  He needs help!  Bait-”

“There’s no need for that,” Runaan chuckled, though his eyes were wide and his tone almost in awe, wetting the rag and warming it in his palm as he reached for the little dragon.  Rayla moved to help without prompting, helping the dragonlet sit up as he wiped gently at his eyes. “This little one isn’t the first I’ve seen into the world.” He glanced up at Rayla as he said it, though the girl’s focus was entirely on the dragon in their arms.

Andromeda wondered if Rayla knew she was the first one.  Runaan told the story often enough that it was common knowledge, but he rarely bothered to specify that Rayla’s birth was the first he had been a midwife for alone.

The dragonlet chirred curiously as he opened bright blue eyes.  He made grateful noises at the elves holding him, but looked around Runaan’s side at Ezran.  The young king was already kneeling nearby, and opened his arms.  Wriggling free of Runaan and Rayla, the dragonlet bounced over to him with his little wings flapping limply at his sides, and licked the boy’s face happily. 

“You know your own name!  Azymondias!” Ezran said brightly, and rested his forehead against the young dragon’s.

Azymondias .  A bond was being formed before their very eyes, and Andromeda felt as though the very air hummed with it.  This was no longer just a desperate quest to return something that was lost.  These two young kings held the future of the world in their hands and claws, and they were bound and determined - by something more than just will - to face it together.

“We’ll call you Zym.” Ezran said, abruptly reminding her that for all they were kings, for all they were changing the world simply by showing each other this brotherhood, they were still also just little boys.  Tears burned her eyes for an entirely different reason and she found herself with her hand over her own mouth now.

“That’s Rayla,” Ezran said helpfully, pointing at her, and the little dragon squeaked happily, tongue lolling out of his little mouth. “You almost blew off the mountain, but Rayla saved you!  And then all the others saved her too.  That’s her dad, Runaan.”

As he talked, Zym bounded back over to Rayla, stumbling as he got there, and Rayla gasped when he fell.  Thankfully, the little dragon just beamed up at her and licked her bruised hand. 

“Aww, it’s okay, little one.” Rayla said kindly, scratching under Zym’s chin. “The important thing is you.  One miracle is enough for me today.”

Nonetheless, the dragonlet bit the binding on her hand.  Andromeda gasped, all the warnings about never trying to break the binding screeching to the forefront of her mind.  She couldn’t understand why Runaan just knelt there and let it happen, eyes fixed upon the little dragon.

The binding slipped right off as though it weren’t magical, and Rayla remained upright, blinking down at her unbound hand.  Something loosened around Andromeda’s wrist, and her heart suddenly pounded as she looked down, her own binding falling off, still silver.  She looked around suddenly and found Skor and Ram both grasping their falling bindings, and Runaan’s coming off in his good hand as he smiled.  Callisto’s eyes were wide but their bound arm was the one tucked into their sling, so she couldn’t see theirs, but -

“How is this possible?” Ram asked in disbelief.

“Dragon Prince Azymondias is the subject of the spell that bound us,” Runaan replied, awe lacing his tone. “He was the only one capable of releasing us.  Since our subjects are usually dead - we thought he was dead - it’s never come up before.”

“But you knew?” Andromeda asked, suddenly understanding why he hadn’t moved to stop the little dragon.

Runaan nodded. “Until he hatched, it wasn’t possible - there was no hope to be shared.  But now . . .”

“You should send the shadowhawk.” Skor said roughly, wincing, and when they all looked at him he tucked his binding into his pocket and signed the rest. “The dragon queen will know as well as you did what the released bindings mean.  Send them all back to tell her the king is dead and the prince is alive.”

Rayla rubbed her wrist, laughing with disbelief as she looked down at it, and Andromeda certainly sympathized.  As blood rushed back to her hand it was so warm it almost burned, and she clenched and unclenched it experimentally.  She nuzzled into the little dragon. 

“Thank you.”

“It can wait,” Runaan said, softer, to Skor, and returned his attention to his daughter.  Andromeda looked over at Ram, finding him fully seated on the ground in shock, rubbing feeling back into his hand.  She sat down beside him as relief suddenly flooded her, realizing they were talking about communicating with home.

They could go home after all.

 

Skor spotted the pink glow across the sky before Ezran pointed it out, and something dark and cold settled in the pit of his stomach.  It settled all around them, the little pink lights dancing around like the ghosts of fireflies.

Even as Callum remarked, “It’s beautiful.” Skor wondered if that was what they were.

“They’re gentle!” Rayla said, tickling one with her fingers. “They even tickle a little.” She was beaming, soft and vulnerable now that they’d had a little time to recover from the shock of their bindings falling, and the dragonlet that now played in their midst. 

The glow toad tried and failed to eat one.  Skor looked at the other elves.  Andromeda was preoccupied smiling at the children.  Callisto had busied themself with finally pulling the binding out of their sling, and seemed not to have noticed the lights yet.  Ram was frowning at them though, and Runaan had stood up.

Skor followed his gaze to where the Guardian stood on the cliffside.  The three of them looked across the path of the pink light through the sky, where it remained illuminated, reaching for a source on another mountain peak days’ travel away.  Lujanne looked back at them, her lips pursed, and Runaan’s ears bent back with concern as his jaw visibly tightened.  Skor bit his tongue. 

It would take days for whoever was tracking them to reach this place.  As he exchanged a glance with Runaan, he understood the look his friend sent towards the children.  They would give the little dragon a few days to find his feet, and them all time to recover from their wounded hands.  While the remaining magic from their bindings would keep the damage from becoming permanent, their recovery would still take time.

Once they could move again, though, they would need to do so quickly.

Chapter 22: Night Talks and Morning Ones

Summary:

Rayla wakes up in the middle of the night with a problem she needs her dad to help her fix. Skor and Callisto wake up the next morning and are just remarkably comfortable with it. Corvus wakes up and needs a little more information to relax.

Notes:

This week's been kinda shit. Work's been rough and I've had some tough medical news too. I'm not sharing more on here, but it's been tough to process and kinda shook me out of my writing groove. Thank you all for your support, because the comments section on each new chapter has really kept me going through all this. Speaking of, here's the next one!

Rayla woke up curled into a fetal position, her own whines echoing in her ears.  Lujanne had settled them all into rooms in the various buildings across the Moon Nexus - this largest one contained her room, Runaan’s, the princes’ , and Lujanne’s at the top near Phoe-Phoe.  Ram and Andromeda shared a two-bedroom building off to one side, and Skor, Callisto, and Corvus had taken another.  She’d thought she was fine when she went to bed.  Her arm still tingled from the magic that flowed through it, keeping her blood from . . . doing something bad, Callisto’s explanation hadn’t really made any sense to her.

That blood was the last thing that concerned her in this moment, though, as her entire womb felt like it clenched down and she felt the muscles in her belly flutter from the effort.  She rolled into a sitting position and checked the bed with trepidation, breathing a little sigh of relief when she confirmed she hadn’t stained it.  She grimaced through the pain as she stood up, her smalls clinging uncomfortably to the inside of her thighs, and dug through her bags. 

It fortunately wasn’t too much work to clean herself up.  Only her smalls had stained, though that made it that much more annoying that it hurt so much.  Her monthlies never hit her this hard, she didn’t understand why it was this painful.

Wiping down, setting her smalls aside to wash in the morning, replacing them with another set and the rags she’d brought to soak it up.  She’d known she would be out long enough to need them at least once.  She realized as she shimmied her pants back on and dug through her bag that she hadn’t brought a heating pad, though.

Tears springing to her eyes felt ridiculous, and Rayla swore under her breath as she sat back on the floor in frustration, which of course sent a shock of pain through her lower belly and she whined.  She covered her face with her hands and just breathed through it for a moment.  There was no way she could sleep like this.  She knew better than to try and use a spell for the pain, at least on herself.  She should have brought the heating pad, it was always better to be overprepared than underprepared.  But she hardly ever needed it!  It seemed unnecessary at the time when she was packing.

Rayla dragged herself to her feet and opted to leave her room.  If she couldn’t sleep, she was at least going to see if Runaan was up.  Maybe he would know how to help her.  He’d been the one to teach her how to handle these things before, since her mother was already gone by the time she had her first one.  Him and Andromeda, anyways, and she didn’t want to wake Andromeda.

She didn’t really want to wake either of them, but her steps carried her towards his door anyway. “Runaan?” She asked softly through it, not daring to knock, and then as she felt her own thighs tremble from the cramps, asked, “Dad?”

“Come in, Rayla.” He sounded remarkably alert and she carefully opened his door. “What is it, darling?” He was already sitting on the edge of his bed, as if about to get up, and she bit her lip.

“I’m sorry,” She said impulsively. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, little one,” He promised, sighing softly - he did look a bit haggard. “I was awake . . . for other reasons.” He lifted his arm to invite her under it and his nostrils flared as she came closer.  He politely didn’t mention the blood smell.

Politeness wasn’t really what she needed right now, and Rayla burrowed under his arm with a wince. “I started my monthly.” She confessed without looking up at him. “I already cleaned up an’ everythin’, it just hurts this time, I can’t sleep.”

“You didn’t bring your heating pad?”

She winced. “I didn’t think I’d need it.  It’s almost never this bad, I dunno why it is this time.”

He rubbed her arm comfortingly with the hand wrapped around her shoulders. “The last few days have been an immense amount of stress.  It’s not unusual for that sort of thing to influence one’s bodily cycles.  No other unusual symptoms?  Nothing that worries you?”

She shook her head. “No.  Nothin’ else really sat in yet, just the blood and the pain, but that’s normal for me at first.”

Runaan hummed acknowledgement and patted her gently. “Give me a moment, little blade.  I have something that should help.” He rose from the bed and she curled a little in on herself without his warmth at her side, and he dug in his own packs - placed sensibly on a desk, she should have thought of that - and produced a pad with a sun rune on it.  With a touch to the rune it lit up, and he brought it back over to her.

“You brought a heating pad?” Rayla asked curiously, recognizing the tool.

He smiled faintly as he handed it over to her and resettled himself in the bed. “My aches and pains come from a different source, but the heat still helps them.” He said and then raised an eyebrow at her teasingly as she pressed it to her belly. “And I did raise you, darling.  I know you rather well by now.”

Her cheeks heated a bit with the realization that he’d somewhat predicted she would fail to pack her own heating pad and she looked down instead of meeting his eyes, but he seemed more amused than anything and he hugged her close to his side anyway, so she took it as the teasing it was meant. 

“Better?” He prompted.

“Much.” She admitted as the heat suffused her body, easing the clench of her muscles.  She peeked back up at his face. “What was keepin’ you up?”

The amusement faded from his gentle smile, though he didn’t look upset, and he sighed, petting her arm. “It may sound ridiculous, but . . . we’re in proper beds.” He shrugged helplessly. “I haven’t spent a night completely alone in a bed in . . . nigh on fifteen years.”

He’d only been married for twelve, but Rayla opted not to call him out for it.  He’d been mated to Ethari for years before they were officially married.  She snuggled into his side. “I miss him too.” She confessed.

Runaan hugged her close. “I know.  We’ll stop in the Silvergrove on our way through Xadia - mounts will help us move much faster once we’re there.  We’ll see him for a little while then.”

There was something odd in his voice when he said it, but Rayla guessed it was probably just anxiety, missing home.  She leaned her horns gently against his arm as he scent marked her. “Well . . . if I can’t sleep, and you can’t sleep alone, maybe I should stay here tonight?” She suggested tentatively.

She could feel his eyes settling on her head even though she didn’t wake up.  There was a smile in his voice again when he answered. “You don’t need to make up an excuse to cuddle, Rayla.  You can just ask.”

Rayla grumbled embarrassment and hunched her shoulders. 

“I know, I know,” Runaan said with a chuckle. “You’re too old to be asking your parents, you should be asking your own friends instead, is that right?”

She wrinkled her nose as she looked up at him again. “I am too old.  You’re just - but you’re the only one here.  An’ . . . you’re still my family.” She bit her lip. “Especially if I’m . . . not actually a grown-up yet.” She poked the wound again.  It felt at once fresh and old - it was odd to think he had only told her the morning before. 

He sighed softly. “You’ll always be my family, Rayla.  My little blade, my daughter, no matter how old you get.” He promised. “Come on then.  Cuddle close, it’s near dawn.  We ought to get whatever sleep we can.”

She shifted away enough for them both to shuffle into bed.  Runaan’s large horns made sleeping on his back tricky at best, and he stretched out on his stomach instead, propped up on a pillow like a great shadowpaw.  One leg was bent to prop his body up slightly as well, and she curled up on her side into the curve of it.  To her surprise, one heavy arm settled across her shoulders and tucked her in close.  Their proximity kept the heating pad pressed nicely against her lower stomach, and they both tugged at the blanket until it covered them up appropriately.

Rayla was dozing before she even thought about it, her pains soothed by the heating pad and her father. 

 

Skor woke up first.  He usually did when he had someone else in bed with him, though it wasn’t always, when that someone was Callisto.  Their broken arm was dragging their energy down, though, and they hadn’t been up before him since it happened unless summoned by a watch. 

He didn’t move for a minute, just watching them sleep.  Callisto wasn’t much of a cuddler, for an elf, less so with their arm out of commission, and they weren’t quite touching but for their calves pressed together under the blankets.  Their broken arm was cradled protectively against their chest and their face was pushed into the pillows.  Their shaven hair made them look less rumpled but Skor’s heart ached with fondness from the wrinkles pressed into their skin from sleeping like this.

He hadn’t been lying to Runaan, was the thing.  This was enough.  Having Callisto trust him so much, to curl up into bed with him instead of alone, trusting him to keep watch over their wounded rest and fussing over him to let his ankle heal, this was enough.  He loved them, pure and simple, and all he wanted was to keep them close.

The life he would have had . . . his other dreams . . . he had given them up so long ago to follow the path that had been left to him.  After his voice had been taken, and the rest of his pride lost in the caves where Runaan had been forced to leave them, this duty was all he had.  He counted himself lucky to have found love and life and a purpose in it through all he had lost.

When Callisto first joined the assassins, young and grim and battered before ever leaving Moonshadow Forest, committing so wholly to the guild that had destroyed him, he hadn’t expected them to live long.  Their skills had rocketed them up to Runaan’s training group, though, and getting to know them had changed so much.  They were committed for the same reason he was - not because they had nothing left to lose, though that was true, but to make sure no one else suffered the same fate.  

Despite himself, discomfort crept through his muscles at being still for too long and Skor stretched, slow and languid, hoping it wouldn’t wake Callisto.  He had no such luck, and pretty orange eyes blinked open at him as he resettled, surprisingly alert for having just awoken.  They yawned a moment later, sharp fangs glinting in the morning light, and looked a little sleepier when their mouth closed.

“Good morning,” They murmured with a twitch of their ears, the same fondness he felt reflected back in their eyes.

Skor took the chance to lean over and brush his hand over their temple, and their shoulder, scent marking them a bit brazenly.  Callisto just arched into the motion like a shadowpaw, their near-silent purr vibrating under his touch. “Good morning.” Skor rasped in return, and winced at the sound of his own voice, sitting up enough to reach for the moonberry juice on the nightstand.

It was Callisto’s bottle that his hand found first, but the other elf didn’t comment when he sipped from it.  They just stretched in place with what limbs they could, making a distasteful look at the splint he’d applied to their arm as soon as possible the night before, and stretched out on their back, horns propping their head up. “You haven’t gotten up and tried walking yet, have you?” They asked.

Their fervent warnings the night before echoed in his mind and Skor chuckled in spite of himself. “No.  I was told very strongly by an excellent healer that I should stay off my ankle if I can today, give it time to heal before we travel.”

“They sound like they know what they’re doing.” Callisto smirked broadly up at him when he looked down, and he grinned back, leaning back on one hand to loom over their supine body in the bed. 

Something in Callisto’s eyes went hooded at the positioning and Skor didn’t hide from it, just taking his spare hand to touch their jaw, cupping their chin to guide their eyes to his. “You do.” He assured them softly, and they took his hand in their good one, lacing their fingers together. 

Callisto rested their forehead on their joined hands. “Thank you.  And thank you for takin’ care of me, too.” They shifted their splinted arm to demonstrate.

“Of course.” Skor rumbled, and would have said more, but now that he was sitting up, his age caught up to him and he grimaced. “Am I allowed outside to take a piss?”

Callisto laughed out loud. “I think you’ll manage not t’break your ankle fully doin’ that, old man.  I’ll get us a bowl together for breakfast in the meantime.  There’s a reason I picked us the house without stairs.”

Something about the domesticity of implying the house was theirs , despite the human asleep in the next room - Skor’s heart was warmed despite the reminder of the company.  He grinned as he slid out of the bed, ankle twinging under his weight. “Thank you, Callisto.”

“Always, Skor.”

Corvus had expected to lay awake for a while after settling into the spare room at the Moon Nexus.  It shocked him that so many of these old elven buildings were still standing, even more so that there was an elf here, apparently living under all of their noses for centuries.  The dragon egg had hatched - it had shaken the elves more than he realized when they thought it was going to die.  The dragons’ royal line was incredibly important to them.

The bed was comfortable, though, and the elves’ open windows and floor plan brought him familiar fresh air, and he had fallen asleep quickly once settled.  Skor and Callisto had taken the other room in this building - apparently they were a couple.  He wasn’t really surprised given how they had behaved on the hike up here.

He woke the next day to sunlight on his face, having slept in more than he normally did.  He cursed himself internally, wondering what the elves could have gotten up to in the time he was gone - if the princes were still here - and quickly rolled out of the comfortable bed to go check on their situation.

Skor and Callisto were both seated at the little table in the front room, sharing a little bowl of berries.  Neither of them were fully armored anymore, as if they’d also just arisen.  The swordsman’s eyes narrowed when he saw Corvus, but Callisto just shrugged and tossed a bag at him. “Here, the rest of the moonberries we got on the trail.  There’s more bushes here at the Nexus so there’s no need to ration them.”

Corvus caught the bag almost automatically, blinking at them in surprise. “Uh, thank you.” He said awkwardly. 

“It was a long night for everyone.” Callisto said, as if reading his mind and picking up on his anxiety. “We’ll be lettin’ everyone sleep until they wake up.  We could all use the rest before we push on t’ Xadia.”

Seemed the elves were no longer in a rush, with the dragon egg hatched and the magical bindings gone from their limbs.  That was a good thing - maybe he’d have time to get a message to General Amaya then. “Good.  I’m going to just . . . go outside.  I’m not much for the indoors.” 

Callisto waved him off, though Skor’s frown deepened, and Corvus followed through, stepping outside of the small house and opening the bag.  No sense in wasting food, the elf was right, so he ate the berries as he cautiously explored the open ground around this little arrangement of houses.  There were five of them all upon this winding trail near each other; the Guardian, Runaan, and the children were all in the largest building up at the top of the hill, with Andromeda and Ram taking the next one down, and he with the couple in the third house.  Ram and Andromeda were already outside as well, he saw as he looked around.

He needed to talk to the Guardian.  Surely she had a way to communicate with her people back in Xadia, and he could send a message to General Amaya.  This was an amazing environment to keep messenger birds.

“Good morning,” Andromeda greeted cheerfully as he made his way up the trail near them.  Ram was in the midst of doing some stretches that made Corvus’ back ache just looking at them, but he looked over his shoulder as well at the greeting.

“Good morning,” Corvus replied politely.  He didn’t quite know what to say after that, though he felt awkward just walking away since she was looking him in the eyes and clearly expected a conversation.

Ram snorted and rose smoothly back to his feet. “Good morning,” He drawled too. “And where were you off to, tracker?”

“I need to speak to the Guardian about getting a message back to the General - just to tell her the kids are safe,” Corvus said quickly, seeing the elves exchange a glance. 

A large shadow enveloped all of them for a moment and they all looked up, and Corvus breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the Guardian land her phoenix nearby.  She approached them before he could leave the other elves, but it didn’t matter - he had nothing to hide.

“What a beautiful day,” The Guardian beamed as she approached them. “You’re all up earlier than I expected after that eventful night.  The children were all quite exhausted, I don’t imagine they’ll be up for some time.”

“Speaking of the children,” Corvus broke in, seeing his opportunity. “May I borrow a messenger bird?  I need to get a letter back to General Amaya, to tell her the princes are safe - and that they might not be, if I bring them back to Katolis.”

The Guardian tilted her head at him and then shrugged. “I’m afraid not.  I don’t keep messenger birds!  The only way I really have to send information back to Xadia are through magical means!  Somehow, I doubt a moth carrying an illusion of you speaking would be at all reassuring for your general.”

Corvus’ shoulders slumped. “No,” He admitted. “Probably not.”

“You will get your message back to Katolis once we are safely on the Xadian side of the border.”

The unexpected voice made the hair on the back of Corvus’ neck stand up even before Runaan and Rayla stepped around the phoenix - who had been blocking their view of the path - into view.  The older assassin gave him a piercing look. “You have not earned enough trust yet for that.”

“If I let you read it before I sent it-” He suggested.

“There could be a coded message that we haven’t the intelligence to read.  No.  You earn the right to send a message.  Otherwise, the general may get by on my word, not yours.  Her anxiety is not my concern - her nephews’ safety is.” Runaan said firmly.

The Guardian looked between them keenly. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what’s going on?” She asked finally. “From the beginning.  I’m aware of the dragon king’s demise, and I assumed the Queen would send assassins, but how is it that you all came to be here, with the egg of the Dragon Prince, traveling with humans?”

“It started with me,” Rayla confessed. “There was a guard in Katolis who saw us on our approach to the castle . . .”

Corvus fell quiet to listen to the assassins’ side of the story, joined after a bit by Callisto and Skor, getting details this time they had not deigned to share before.  When they got to the bit about how they needed to take care of the egg more than fulfill their original mission, or the consequences could be severe, he had to interject. “What do you mean, consequences?  It looked like the consequences for abandoning your mission would have been severe regardless, with those bindings.”

The elves exchanged glances and it was Ram who answered him. “We came at the behest of the Dragon Queen.  We didn’t have a choice in that.  Our people serve the dragons as . . . payment, for historical debts.  If it comes back to Xadia that a Moonshadow assassin has not only failed in our mission but that our actions resulted in the death of the dragon prince?  We will pay the price in blood from our families at home.  We serve as recompense for a war centuries ago, in exchange for ceasing the aggression on the forest.  If our service fails, so do the terms of the dragons’ nonviolence.”

“Moonshadow Forest is half the size it was before the Bloodmoon Massacres.” Runaan rumbled, closing his eyes as if grieving something he wasn’t old enough to have seen. “It is . . . something we are all very aware of, in our service.  It is why we cannot tolerate true failure, and why we work in teams - if one of us falters, the rest can cover the gaps, and no one else has to know.”

Corvus frowned, as an ugly picture started to paint itself from the elves’ words. “What kind of historical debts?” He asked.

“Is that any of your business?” Ram challenged.

“If we are trusting them within a sacred place such as this, without a guard, then I hardly think it reasonable to distrust him with knowledge of our people’s history,” The Guardian pointed out, spreading her hands and shrugging when they looked at her. “The debts we pay, Corvus, are the result of a war waged about three hundred years ago, shortly after I left for the Nexus.  It’s also why I haven’t had an apprentice to train in those three centuries!  We lost so many.” She covered her mouth partially with a hand, her eyes going distant as she looked back on their past.

Runaan cleared his throat. “The story is rather involved, and while yes, the most recent war was waged around three centuries ago, the events that led to it date back to the Mage Wars.  Unless you wish to be told a very, very long story, suffice it to say, what remains of our people are the survivors of a war between a bloody cult, the Sunfire Kingdom, and the dragons, with us caught in the crossfire of it all.  Because the cult was comprised of Moonshadow elves, we pay the price for their crimes.”

“That’s unjust.” Corvus said bluntly. “No one should be paying the price for crimes they didn’t commit - especially not on such a large scale.  Even your children are being held responsible.” He gestured at Rayla.

The girl bared her fangs at him. “I’m not a child.”

Her father raised a single eyebrow at her and she quickly put her fangs away.  The older man folded his arms and sighed. “We do not concern ourselves with what is fair, tracker.  We do not decide what is justice.  We do our duty to protect what we can.  That is our honor code.”

Their willingness to kill the king, contrasted with their choice to protect the princes, was beginning to make more sense.  Their personal values had been thrown into a wall against their duty, and they were trapped between a rock and a hard place trying to make the best of it.  No wonder they had been terrified at the possibility of the egg’s death.

Corvus nodded his acceptance of the answer. “Thank you.  I think I’m beginning to understand a little better.”

“And how did you come to be with the travelers?” The Guardian inquired curiously. “You’ve not been mentioned in the story so far.”

And so they resumed telling the story, and Corvus told his part of it now that he was in it.  It rankled him that the elves had apparently known he was tracking them for nearly the entire time, but he hadn’t noticed any of the other four in the woods around the Banther Lodge when they watched the faceoff between Runaan and Amaya.  Still, he took comfort in the fact that there were six of them, and only one of him, and most of them had years more experience than he did in tracking and evading far more intelligent prey. 

The whole thing only reinforced his determination to see this through.  From the looks of things, his willingness to listen to them, and to ask about their motivations and understand them, seemed to make some sort of a difference for most of the elves, too.  As their story drew to a close, here on the mountaintop, Andromeda made her way over to give Rayla a hug.  

Corvus didn’t think anything of it, as at the time Runaan was mentioning their fears as the egg almost failed to hatch, but the other elves all seemed to react somewhat and it caught his attention.  Rayla hugged the older woman back and when Lujanne concluded she was caught up, she teased lightly, “So we’re both in a state this mornin’, huh?”

Andromeda laughed wryly and brushed her hands through Rayla’s loose hair with a glance at Runaan.  He didn’t move to stop her, just shrugged, and she clung a little harder. “Yes, though a bit different states.  Do you need anything?  I’ve got an extra heat pack and some soothing tea if you want it.”

Rayla started to shake her head but at the mention of tea she stopped. “Actually, the tea would be nice.  Runaan let me borrow his heat pack last night.”

What, exactly, were they on about?  Corvus glanced at the others to see if there were any clues, but all of the elves seemed to be on the same page.  No one seemed at all confused about this conversation.

“Andromeda’s heat kicked in early.” Ram said flatly when he looked over that way. “And Rayla’s monthly started too, from the smell of it.”

Rayla wrinkled her nose at him. “It’s fine.” 

“Sorry,” Skor said with a little grimace to Andromeda. “I was joking.”

Andromeda blinked at him for a second and then laughed. “I think it was last night that kicked it in, my friend, don’t worry.  I made a joke of it last night to Ram, too.  I’ll be fine.  It will help to have the kids around, I’ll be less concerned about making more of them if there’s little ones about.”

Corvus cleared his throat as quietly as he could, his face suddenly heating as he remembered suggesting she was in heat before, and what she might be doing to the children.  They all looked at him anyway and he couldn’t meet any of their eyes.  Wasn’t it their season already, though?  He had meant it.

He could practically hear Andromeda tilting her head. “Why did you think it was breeding season already when I caught you the first time?” She asked curiously. “It shouldn’t start for weeks.”

“I’ve . . . heard stories about elves’ heat cycles,” He admitted. “From the sailors down by the port cities.  They know more about elves than almost anyone inland.”

Callisto snorted into a hand. “ Tidebound elves’ breeding season is in full swing,” They said mildly. “ Moonshadow breeding season doesn’t start till summer, we’re still in the midst of spring.  Sunfire elves’ season is in the fall.  Skywing are in the winter, and the Earthblood don’t have a unifying season, they’re all too different.”

“I  . . . didn’t realize it would be different.” Corvus said. 

The elves chuckled, mostly, though Skor was rolling his eyes and Ram seemed distinctly unimpressed. “You have a lot to learn,” The latter said dryly.

Clearly. 

Chapter 23: Advice

Summary:

Callum gets some education from Lujanne, and then some more nuanced advice from Ram.

Notes:

So I was gonna lean into just doing some fluffy whatever but then that didn't flow so I went with this because I had actual inspiration for it.

“This is the Moonhenge.” The Guardian, Lujanne, said, gesturing broadly at the dilapidated marble structure as she led Callum up the stairs.  He’d been so excited to learn more about Moon magic when she offered to teach him earlier, and he soaked up the information like a sponge.  Nearby in one of the pools, he could see Ram perched on the edge staring into the water, stock-still, and wondered what he was looking for.

He was quickly distracted by Lujanne’s lecture.

“Thousands of years ago when Xadia was one land, the ancient ancestors of Moonshadow elves performed fantastic rituals here.” She smiled at him and drew a moon rune into the air in front of her as they reached a circle of broken stone pillars. “Historia viventum.”

For a moment it seemed as though nothing happened.  Then, his vision was briefly overtaken by shimmering blue shades, which formed into the shapes of elves walking right through him.  The structure was lit by the same shimmering magic, the pillars reforming, entire buildings long gone taking shape before his every eyes. The pillars wove into an arched roof above them, letting in the light of the moon.

“The legends say they could use the power of the Nexus to open a portal to another plane, a shimmering world beyond life and death.”

Was that why Skor had said moon magic wasn’t to be toyed with when someone was grieving?

The elves in the shades began to dance in practiced steps.  One of them took her place at a seated harp and began to play.  Her silhouette looked like an ancient version of Andromeda, though it was hard to say with the glowing blue shape.  Another that looked enough like her to be sisters danced nearby with a shorthaired elf that reminded him of Ram, though their face appeared sharper.  Another of the dancers was a long-haired man that vaguely resembled Runaan, though it was cut short on the side like Skor.

He frowned at the shades as they walked through the images, though. “But it’s ruins now.” Runaan’s story from the path up echoed in his mind at this, and his heart ached with empathy for how much the elves had lost.

“Yes.  The Moon Druids destroyed it themselves, when Xadia was divided in two.” Lujanne confirmed, and though he couldn’t see her face, her tone sounded sad. “They decided it was safer to disable this magical place.”

“That’s so sad.” He said it without thinking, bowing his head to convey his sincerity.

“Ever since then, there has always been a Guardian of the Nexus.  A mage, like myself, whose duty is to prevent humans from discovering it.”

“Runaan talked about that a little while we were hiking up.” Callum said, but something he’d been curious about since then niggled at his mind and he frowned. “What happens if humans do discover it, though?  Do you, like . . .” He trailed off when she looked at him questioningly, and resorted to gesturing his fingers across his throat. “Kill them?”

She laughed openly in response. “Nah.  Why kill them when you can break their brains with insane illusions?  I’ve got some real mind-melters.  They would completely freak your bean.  Interested?”

Callum blinked at her and then grinned, glad she hadn’t been offended by the question. “I’ll pass.”

She chuckled and beckoned him onward as the illusions around them faded away.  They continued to mount towards the summit of the mountain, up winding stairs and smooth pathways. “In the olden days, this was the center of Moonshadow civilization,” Lujanne continued. “Every elf born to our arcanum would make a pilgrimage to the Nexus as soon as they were old enough to travel, to be presented to the Moon itself.  The Nexus was managed by druids, but they were accompanied by guardians who were our most skilled warriors.  After the Nexus was lost, the druids and the guardians slowly merged into a single order, which was later split again along new lines after the war three hundred years ago.  The remains are now the Keepers and the Assassins’ Guild, both of whom are charged with preserving parts of our history that we were able to salvage.”

“How come the assassins are also historians?” Callum asked curiously. “Ram said they have some of the most accurate oral histories of Xadia.  Why do the assassins keep those instead of the Keepers?”

Lujanne looked at him kindly. “To remind them why they serve.” She said simply. “That their duty is to protect what we can, including our history and our connection to our ancestors, and not to pass judgment.  Moonshadow assassins are not judge or jury, young prince - only executioner.  And they do so to protect us all.”

Callum frowned, the idea of an executioner doing any sort of protecting sitting badly in his chest, but he didn’t want to seem . . . judgmental towards the elves. “So, what makes this place a concentration of Moon magic, then?  Is it just because it was so important to the moonshadow mages for so long?”

Lujanne laughed and shook her head. “Though Primal energy is everywhere, it may be weaker or stronger at different times and places.  The ocean is strongest at high tide, sky is strongest in a storm, and the moon is strongest-”

“When it’s full!” Callum blurted, delighted by following the pattern.

“Please don’t interrupt.” She pointed at him, but before he could get insecure, she just rambled on. “But yes.  But there’s more.  There are six special places where the magic of Primal energies are most pure and powerful in this world.  Such a place is called the Nexus.  This, is the Moon Nexus.”

They had finally reached the peak, and stood on a balcony overlooking a large basin and a nearly perfectly circular lake.  Callum gasped at the sight of it.  Not far below the balcony he spotted two white-haired shapes, and squinting at them revealed them to be Runaan and Rayla.  They were both down at the beach near the water’s edge, walking along it.

“It reflects the Moon perfectly.” Lujanne continued. “When the moon is full, its light completely fills the lake.”

“I love this.  I love learning about magic.” Callum said eagerly, and his eyes widened as below he watched Runaan cast a spell.  It must have been the same historia spell Lujanne had used, as shimmering shapes emerged from around the shoreline as well, some of them stepped out into the water, clearly in the midst of their own ceremonies.

He had to know how to do that. “But I want you to teach me how to do some Moon magic,” He added to Lujanne. “Maybe some hands-on learning!  Get in there, you show me how to do a moonbeam, a moon . . . ray, a moon . . . shine!” He trailed off awkwardly, still holding his smile, as she frowned at him.

“Humans can’t do magic.”

“But I did do magic.”

“Right,” She said as if it was obvious, and something cold sank into the pit of his stomach as Ram mounted the stairs into view as well. “With a Primal Stone.  But then, you smashed it.  So now, you’re just a standard human again.  Eh, but look on the bright side!  You’ve got those extra fingers!  The little ones!  The - what do you call them?  Pinkoes.” 

Callum dodged around her hand to see her face again. “But I know other humans who do magic.” He insisted. 

Lujanne pinched the top of her nose, between her eyes, and shook her head with a sigh. “We do not call that practice magic.” She said scornfully. “It’s an atrocity.”

“This can’t be.  I thought magic was my thing!  I was good at it!” Callum protested.

The older woman smiled all too brightly at him and presented him with a plate of cake. “You look like you could use some cake.”

Callum looked from the cake to her face and back, wondering if she actually thought he’d fall for it. “That’s really a plate of worms.” He grumbled. 

“You really need to stop feeding those to people,” Ram drawled. “There’s plenty of perfectly good berries around.”

Lujanne laughed at them both. “You’re too smart for old Lujanne’s illusions.” She said all too brightly. 

“Callum,” Ram called as Callum pouted, the sinking feeling threatening to overtake him with static around his ears. “Walk with me for a bit, will you?”

He really didn’t want to at the moment, and Callum opted to just say so. “I don’t really want to talk right now, Ram.”

“That’s fine.  Just walk with me and listen, then.” Ram said firmly, and extended an arm in his direction, and Callum gave in, and joined him trekking down the stairs.  They left Lujanne behind at the overlook.

It took a few minutes for Ram to speak, and when he did, he did so slowly. “I’m not going to lie and tell you that you can learn to do magic without a Primal Stone.  No human’s ever done that before.” 

“If you’re just going to lecture me more about how I’m just a dumb human who can’t do anything, I’d rather just go find Ezran and Zym,” Callum started, bristling defensively, and the older man showed both his palms.

“That’s not what I’m saying, just listen for a minute, will you?” Ram prickled right back, leading the way down a less worn path that seemed to lead back towards the pools. “Look . . . I wasn’t always going to be an assassin.  Until I was about your age, I was set to join the Keepers, to be a steward of our sacred places and a master of ceremonies.”

Callum frowned at him, not seeing the connection. “So what changed your mind?”

“My father.” Ram said with a sigh. “I could memorize the knowledge, I was excellent at preserving the artifacts and maintaining the glades.  I enjoyed the ceremonies.  I was good at it.  But . . . my father is the head of the Keepers in the Silvergrove.  So all of my successes were credit to him, all of my failures - and there were failures, there always is when you’re learning - reflected on him.  So I started to hate it - and him, a little bit.”

The pressure, at least, Callum understood. “I’m the prince,” He said unnecessarily. “Because of that I’m supposed to be good at things like horseback riding, swordfighting, archery, battle tactics . . . and I was just so bad at everything.  But then I tried magic, and it felt right.  It felt like I was finally good at something.” He frowned at the ground. “I don’t want to give it up.”

“I didn’t want to leave the Keepers, either.  But . . .” Ram shrugged one shoulder tiredly. “Things with my father just kept getting worse.  I started to hate him, a little bit, in my teenage angst, and that scared me more than anything.  So I left.  I gave up, because I couldn’t get past the way he made me feel in that position.  And I went to the assassins instead.”

“But you’re good at that too,” Callum said, looking down at the array of throwing knives strapped to Ram’s hip. “I thought . . . I thought magic was going to be my thing, the same way.”

Ram smirked faintly. “Did you?  Because I wasn’t good at it when I started.”

“You weren’t?”

“No.” Ram scoffed wryly. “I was fast, but that’s about all I had going for me.  I was hasty, and reckless, and I let my emotions get in my way.  I’ve only been an assassin for three years.  The Keepers’ physical training overlaps somewhat, so I didn’t have as far to go as someone who’d just started, for that part, but it wasn’t easy.  It didn’t come to me nearly as easily as being a Keeper did, especially the ‘taking orders’ part.” He wrinkled his nose. “It still . . . tastes a bit bitter every time I go out knowing I’m serving someone else.  But I’ve learned to live with it.  I had to learn, and work, and make the choice to continue fighting for this even when it didn’t come easily.

“Dreams take work, Callum.  Sometimes you’re lucky enough to be naturally talented at something, but that doesn’t mean you have to build your life around it.  Sometimes, it’s better not to.  If I’d stayed with the Keepers, I’d have a job I was good at, I’d be farther in my career, I’d probably be doing well for myself.” He pursed his lips. “But I’d also probably be alone.  My father . . . might not even be alive.”

Callum flinched involuntarily, biting his own tongue when the consequence stung where his stepfather’s death was still a raw open wound. “What do you mean?”

“We never would have reconciled if I’d stayed.” Ram said simply, and his steps guided them over towards one of the pools. “It took . . . it took so much out of both of us, out of our lives and hearts, when my mother died last year.  Nothing I could have done would have changed her death - she was ill, there was nothing anyone could do.  But if we hadn’t been able to lean on each other, I . . . I don’t know if he would have stayed with us.  I don’t know if he could have lived with her death if we were still on bad terms.”

“You think he would have died?” Callum asked softly, as Ram touched the water lightly with a fingertip. “From a broken heart?”

“No.” Ram sat down on the edge of the water and drew one knee up to his chest, resting his chin on it. “I think he would have given up.  Wandered into the woods and let the forest take him.  And even if he didn’t, I’d still be alone, we wouldn’t be speaking.  My point is, Callum, just because it’s easy, just because you’re talented at it, doesn’t mean it’s your destiny.  Sometimes the best thing you can do is choose to work for something that’s truly better for you, even if it’s hard.”

Callum had been braced to protest against Lujanne, and even this was hard to hear.  But Ram’s maroon eyes were for once sincere, his face softer, like he was really trying to offer advice, and so Callum’s eyes just stung.  He sat down slowly beside the elf and slumped on himself.  He couldn’t shake the feeling he was just meant to learn magic, but they were all so sure . . .

“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Callum.” Ram said gently. “You can still forge your own path.  It just . . . preferably won’t have anything to do with magic.”

“Preferably?” Callum asked, a bit sourly.

“Well.  There is the dark magic your human mages use.” Ram said, and his expression was a bit flatter when Callum looked over at him. “But if you start going down that road we might have to kill you.”

Unwillingly Callum found himself snorting, amused despite himself when Ram followed the statement up with a teasing smirk. “You’re awful.”

“Sometimes,” Ram said without a trace of remorse, standing up and offering Callum a hand. “Listen, just because you can’t do magic doesn’t mean you have to stop learning about it, too.  Would it soothe the sting a little if I told you what the pools are for?” 

Callum wanted to be stubborn.  He wanted to just go back to Ezran and Zym and pout and let himself stew in his discontent, at having his dream - his destiny - denied to him.  But his curiosity overrode it. “. . . I guess.”

Ram gave him a grin that said he knew exactly what Callum was thinking and gestured back at the water. “The moon pools were used similarly to the Nexus.  While the Nexus can fully open a door to the realm of death, the pools can be used to sort of open a window.  The dead cannot leave the water, they’re very limited in what they can do from here, but it’s a way to help . . . settle any unfinished business they might have with the living.  There’s also a spell we use to bind our lives to a lotus flower which will float in the pool until we return from the task we were sent to do.  Moon pools can be created by druids and mages anywhere with enough moon magic, so we have a few in Moonshadow Forest as well . . .”

Notes:

This ended up a way longer scene than I thought it would be. And I cut a bunch of what I thought about out because of how close it would be to the actual events of the show.

Chapter 24: The Assassins' Guild Origins

Summary:

Callum's been wondering why the Assassins' Guild came to be. The elves decide to finally explain - starting from the time of the Mage Wars.

Notes:

I've mentioned this on tumblr already, but to touch on it for the readers here too: updates have slowed down, I know. This isn't a loss of interest. It's a loss of time, because I've been busy in and out of doctors' offices, and it's been exhausting. I don't have a lot of answers yet and wouldn't share them online if I did, so I'm still going to be in and out of appointments for the foreseeable future. So far, it looks like I'm going to be okay, eventually. Though some things in my life might change, it shouldn't stop me from writing. Thank you all for your patience! I'll see you in the next one.

“So . . . Ram was telling me a little bit about Moonshadow history earlier,” Callum asked curiously as the elves and humans settled together for a meal that evening.  

For once they were all sitting together - the table Lujanne had created was somehow large enough to accommodate them all this time.  She sat at one end with Runaan at the other.  He was flanked by Rayla on his right and Skor on his left.  On Skor’s side of the table, Callisto, Ram, and Andromeda sat together.  On Rayla’s side sat Ezran, Callum, Ellis, and Corvus, the tracker as far from Skor as could be managed.

“Was he?” Runaan prompted politely when Callum paused for a minute, the elves all occupying themselves with the fruit they had gathered rather than touching Lujanne’s illusions. 

“Yeah,” Callum confirmed somewhat unnecessarily. “But he said you and Skor were the ones to ask for a more in-depth history of how the assassins started.  Like, why is the assassins’ guild a thing?”

The older man sat back in his chair with a deep breath, exchanging a glance with Skor and then Lujanne, visibly thinking it over. “Hm.  While the current Assassins’ Guild was only established around three hundred years ago, the history of it begins as far back as the Mage Wars.  That is quite a lot of history to cover.”

Callum shrugged. “I mean, what else do we have to do for a while?” He pointed out. “While your arms and Skor’s ankle all heal, we’re not traveling anyway, and we’d love to learn more about your people.”

Ezran nodded quickly and swallowed his bite. “Yeah!  It’s always good to learn more about your allies, Dad says.” 

The older elves exchanged glances again and Ram coughed politely. “Just tell them, Runaan.  You know you want any excuse to talk about Moonshadow history.” He jabbed lightly.

Runaan bared his fangs at him halfheartedly and Ram didn’t back down in the slightest, just smirking broadly until the older man rolled his eyes and closed his mouth. “Fine.”

“This is perhaps the most appropriate place to tell such stories,” Lujanne said cheerfully. “After all, if there’s any uncertainty, we can simply call upon the ancestors and check.”

“That’s true.  We already did that a little earlier, didn’t we?” Rayla said, eyes wide with interest, perking up as she looked at Runaan.

He nodded as he finished off his berries and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “The earliest origins of what would become the assassins were the guardians of the Nexus, when our people still populated these mountains.” He said slowly. “Highly trained warriors meant to protect our people and our sacred places.  They were held separate from the warriors that fought in the Mage Wars - few of the latter survived the war at all.  Historically, Moonshadow elves are . . . poorly suited to open battle.”

“Precision violence.” Corvus mused out loud, and his eyes widened briefly when they all looked at him.

“Precisely,” Runaan said instead of scolding him for the interruption. “The Mage Wars ended with a Sunfire queen suggesting simply segregating humans from elves.  The Archdragons agreed with this decision, and the new lines were drawn.  It left Moonshadow holdings on the wrong side of the border, but it was the most even split that could be managed of land.  The Archdragons Avizandum, Rex Igneous, and Sol Regem joined forces to crack the world, creating the river of lava we now know as the Breach.”

The human children’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Wow!” Ellis burst out. “Dragons are so powerful!”

“I didn’t know the dragons made the Breach,” Callum said in awe.

“This is why one does not argue with Archdragons.” Ram said dryly.

“It is exceedingly unwise,” Lujanne agreed.

Runaan cleared his throat to get their attention again and continued his narrative, leaning forward now to rest his elbows on the table, gesturing loosely. “Many of our warriors and able-bodied adults were lost in the war.  Many, many more were lost in the exit from the newly identified human kingdoms.  Large numbers were left behind, unable to keep up with the emigration, or held back by conflict with the angry humans who had also just been displaced.”

“The Moon Druids and Guardians remained behind the longest of any groups,” Lujanne said. “They destroyed all that they could of our sacred places to keep their power from being corrupted by dark mages.  Few survived to make the eventual escape to Xadia.  Our records and stories say that our people numbered nearly a hundred thousand living throughout these mountains in the old days, before the Mage Wars, but between the losses we suffered from the war and the ones lost in the emigration, only around a fifth of them made it to Moonshadow Forest.”

“There was also the issue of being unable to settle when we first arrived in Xadia,” Ram pointed out. “Nearly all the land there was already claimed by other elves.  While we could have lived among them, and some do - few, now, but still, there are a few - we had none of our own sacred places that way.  We had no space for our more secretive ceremonies, things that we would normally hold private.”

“Moonshadow Forest is the strongest concentration of Moon magic on the Xadian side of the border,” Runaan said evenly. “But it is not as pure as the magic of the Nexus.”

Skor cleared his throat and growled. “Moonshadow Forest is the dark side of moon magic.  This place is light illusions and contact with the dead.  Moonshadow Forest is death itself calling the living with falsehoods that convince you they’re true.”

“It is to this day a very dangerous place to live,” Runaan agreed.

“I remember when I was little, the pride leaders always told us, four is enough, three is a risk, two is a danger, and one is a death,” Rayla piped up. “That’s how they told us not to run off into the woods alone.”

Andromeda snorted. “We were right to tell you so!  That illusion spider of Lujanne’s is a larger version of creatures that haunt every corner of Moonshadow Forest.  And they’re one of the less dangerous enemies there.  The forest itself is hostile, especially at certain times of year, and it took centuries to tame it enough to have safe zones and paths through it.”

“I’ve seen maps of Xadia,” Corvus said carefully. “Moonshadow Forest is a terribly small area to be containing twenty-thousand or more people.  It must be pretty densely populated.”

The elves exchanged glances and Runaan sighed, folding his hands in front of him on the table again. “And now we return to the history of the assassins,” He said. “Twenty-thousand settled in Moonshadow Forest, which was a much larger wooded area at the time.  We lost more than we gained in the centuries that followed, the population dwindling as the forest ate away at the fringes of our camps and we learned how to navigate its dangers.  Warriors were pulled away for the remaining war efforts at the border, as well, to beat back the humans and keep them in what was once our home, leaving our people even more vulnerable.

“As our numbers dwindled, some of our people became . . . desperate.  They sought ways to preserve our kind.  We invented marriage as a contract between two adults to produce children - the contract has been loosened to a commitment in the modern age, but that is the level of desperation we had reached.  Before that time, we saw no need for a formal contract to identify our mates.  Some, however, took a different tactic.”

“Some began to seek immortality,” Callisto said, frowning at the table, sitting back as if having lost their appetite. “Such a search isn’t unfamiliar, many people have tried, human and elf alike, but the problem was, with how deeply connected the Moon is to the cycle of life and death, they found it.  By taking life from others, under the power of the Blood Moon - the harvest moon - they were able to extend their own, indefinitely.  A cult formed around this concept and began to hunt.  It was only . . . around a thousand years after the Breach was made, yes?”

The other elves replied with general nods, hums, or rumbles of agreement and Runaan took up the story again. “The Cult of the Blood Moon, as we called it, hunted within the shadows of the forest for millennia before they could be stopped.  The old Guardians, who had largely fused with the Druids in our exit from the mountains, did their best to hunt the Cult back, but with limited success.  The Cult’s rituals gave them more than new life - it gave them speed, teleportation, power like we could not understand nor effectively fight.  And so our numbers continued to dwindle as the Cult spread, and hunted us down like animals.  The younger the prey, the better - the more life that could be taken from their futures.”

“So what stopped them?” Callum asked, brows furrowed with concern.

“Back up a little,” Corvus said at the same time, and winced when he realized and they all looked at him. “Why exactly did the Druids and Guardians fuse into one after leaving the mountains, though?”

Lujanne was the one who answered him. “The Moon Druids’ purpose was to maintain our sacred places and perform our ceremonies,” She reminded. “With those places destroyed, what was left but to maintain our people and our rituals?  The guardians were meant to protect those sacred places, and without those places, they were left with protecting our people.  Their duties began to overlap so heavily with only the people and ceremonies being left to us, and so few of either order remaining, that the remainder simply chose to share in those responsibilities until there was no longer a distinction between the two.”

“Those guards, which we call Rangers now, were not enough to stop the Cult.” Runaan picked up where he had left off. “But eventually, during the reign of Queen Aditi of the Sunfire Empire, the Cult began to broaden their hunting grounds, as our warriors had begun to gain ground on them.  We had warned Queen Aditi of the growing threat of the Cult and been dismissed.”

“That, by the way, is a detail that the Sunfire elves tend to conveniently leave out of their version of events,” Ram said pointedly. “That we warned them, and they failed to heed the warning.”

“Most elves are more concerned with the version of history that’s most flattering to them than the truth,” Lujanne admitted.

“You don’t seem all that concerned with the truth yourself,” Andromeda pointed out, raising an eyebrow at her, and Lujanne shrugged unrepentantly. “But for most Moonshadow elves tasked with keeping the history, our pride is in keeping its accuracy.  We can call upon the dead to ensure it, so we are the ones most capable of keeping it accurate.  So even when history paints us poorly, we remember it.”

Callum frowned. “But how do you know if the dead are telling you the truth?” He wanted to know. “Why is that any more accurate than just relaying the stories?”

“The shades summoned back to this world from the realm of the dead are not full people any longer,” Ram said seriously. “They do not have the capacity to make anything up to lie.  Whatever they say must be something they truly believed in life, because they’re no longer conscious enough to have new thoughts.”

Lujanne waved a hand. “Legend has it that wasn’t always true in the Moonhenge, that a door could be opened to allow the dead to cross entirely back and interact fully with the living.  But that ability is long lost to us now.”

“To bring this back to the original point,” Runaan interrupted, giving them all a slightly quirked eyebrow when they looked back at him and fell quiet. “The Cult’s aggression outside of the forest sparked a war with the Sunfire Empire and the dragons.  Other elves such as the Riders of the Drakewood were also enlisted here and there.  However, because the Cult appeared to be Moonshadow elves to everyone else - little attention was paid to the separation between them and the rest of our people.”

“We had reason to be upset,” Ram pointed out bitterly. “We had been driven from our homes, we were dying out slowly, we were given no support and barely hospitality from the other elves and from dragons, especially after the disappearance of Luna Tenebris.  It made sense for them to assume that we were angry about those things.  We had reason to be.  I can follow the logic, though it was wrong.”

Runaan hummed a concession to this. “The war that followed lasted for a century, and was vicious and bitter for our people.  We were trapped between the Cult that continued to prey upon us and the Sunfire Empire who thought us the same.  Over half of what was once Moonshadow Forest was burned to ash, the towns and villages completely destroyed.”

“That’s where we get the story of the first assassin,” Rayla piped up, practically vibrating in her seat. “That was one of my favorite stories growin’ up.”

“So it was,” Runaan agreed with a little smile for her. “Andromeda, your husband has a ballad about the first assassin, does he not?  Would you like to take over?”

Andromeda perked up in her seat as well. “I can,” She said graciously. “The first assassin was one of the guardians, one whose village was attacked by the Cult before the arrival of the Sunfire soldiers.  His mate, his love, was gravely wounded by the cult, and he begged the soldiers for help.  They offered him mercy, help for his mate, on the condition that he help them rout more of the Cult from within the forest, and he agreed.  His mate was taken away into the Empire’s custody.

“For months, perhaps years, he served the Empire.  For his betrayal, he was rejected from Moonshadow society, shunned from our villages, left alone.  He was an extremely skilled warrior, a hunter who struck quietly and carefully to eliminate cult leaders.  His mate was held safely within the Empire, and he was rarely permitted to see her.  Eventually, though, he discovered that the villages he had been locating, clearing of the Cult, and reporting back to the Empire, were being burned down after he left.  The soldiers did not trust his word that the villages were safe.

“The assassin crept back into Lux Aurea and freed his mate, fleeing back to Moonshadow Forest.  The truth was revealed to our elders and he was welcomed back into the fold, and he shared his skills with other guardians and warriors among our people, broadening our successes.  Between this new form of quiet, precise attacks and the sweeping violence of the dragons and Sunfire soldiers, the Cult was almost completely wiped out.

“In the end, the cult’s leader and founder, the Bloodmoon Huntress, surrendered herself to Queen Aditi to avoid the Moonshadow justice.  Aditi spared her life, trapping her in a chain that bound her to the queen’s will and that of her descendants until the Huntress paid off her debt.  Because of her surrender, and the First Assassin’s years of service, the rest of our people were offered similar clemency.  The violence would stop, if we continued to provide warriors to the dragons and royalty.”

“The position of the Assassins’ Guild is one of service to Xadian royalty, despite having no royalty of our own,” Runaan summarized. “We serve our own people by paying debts incurred by the Cult.  We make no choices of right and wrong, just or unjust.  We do what we are told, but we cannot afford to become heartless in doing so.  We take it upon ourselves to remember that the lives we take are, nevertheless, still lives .  They are people with the capacity for love and kindness, and we are removing that from the world.  Sometimes a person’s capacity for hatred is greater than their love, and that is when it becomes necessary to . . . eliminate the threat.  To become heartless in the taking, to stop caring, makes us no better than the Cult that led to our subjugation in the first place, and sometimes worse than those we take.”

“It’s not an easy peace to make within yourself,” Andromeda admitted as Rayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I try to remember that I do what I do to keep our people safe, not just from the threats we fight directly, but to maintain the treaty established with the Sunfire elves and dragons to halt the Bloodmoon Massacres.  Doing what we do is our best hope in keeping our forest safe enough for our children to grow up.”

“It chafes,” Callisto said with a little sardonic twist to their mouth. “Knowin’ there’s no path to freedom.  The best we can do is keep them happy, so they don’t care what we do in the shadows.  The forest is our cage, the Guild is our chain, but we are free to do what we like within those bindings.”

“That’s really sad.” Ezran said quietly, pushing his cake around on his plate, and he looked up at them all with serious, but dry eyes. “I’m sorry you have to live like that.  This isn’t going to change that for you, either, is it?  Bringing Zym back home.  It might stop the war, but it won’t . . . it won’t free you.”

The elves exchanged glances and Runaan sighed through his nose. “No.” he said softly. “It won’t.”

Ezran frowned and looked back down at his plate, and then at Zym, clearly thinking something over.  Andromeda bit her lip. “Don’t worry about us, Ezran.” She said. “We know our place in this world.  It’s not your responsibility, or Zym’s, to change it for us.”

“Whose responsibility is it, though?” Ram asked, frowning down at the table, leaned back with his arms across his chest.  He looked up and met each of the other elves’ gazes in turn. “It’s been three centuries, have we not paid enough?  Who decides when we have given enough blood to make up for what was lost, through no fault of ours?” 

The other elves shifted uncomfortably and Rayla was frowning rather violently at her own plate.  Skor stood up with a rough growl and rolled his shoulders. “We can’t fight them.” he said flatly. “The dragons decide.  We don’t judge.  We don’t run.  We just take.” He didn’t bother to elaborate further, just stalking off towards the house he, Callisto, and Corvus had claimed.

Callisto huffed gustily and rose as well. “I’d better go make sure he stays off that ankle so we can get back on the road sooner rather than later,” They said. “Good night, all.” They took a few quick steps to catch up to the other elf but fell in step with him as they vanished into the darkness.

Runaan hummed and looked up at the sky, which was fully dark and twinkling with thousands of stars already. “Did that satisfy your curiosity?” He asked Callum.

Callum nodded, though his brows were drawn with thought and the heaviness of the information. “Thank you.” He said anyway.

“Good.  It may be best we get to bed, at any rate.  We should rest as much as we can while we are here.” Runaan said, rising from the table with Rayla on his heels. “Andromeda, do you need anything before we part ways?”

“A hug would be nice,” Andromeda said shyly, and stood up too.  To the humans’ surprise, Runaan moved readily to give it to her, enfolding the woman in his arms and letting her burrow into his coat the same way Rayla did.  He scent marked her shoulders and hair as well.

He cleared his throat as they parted. “If there is anything else I can do . . .”

“Ram has been plenty of help,” Andromeda assured him. “Thank you, my friend.  Good night.”

“I’m a glorified heat pack and snuggle toy, but that’s fine,” Ram said, dry as dust, and yelped when Andromeda responded to this by dragging him out of his seat onto his feet. “All right, I’m coming!  Demanding woman.” He huffed good-naturedly, and ducked when Andromeda swiped playfully at his horns. “Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep some of this off.”

Rayla tugged on Andromeda’s arm and pulled her into another hug before she left, and Andromeda kissed her friend’s hair before letting go of her.  Runaan raised a brow at the affection and when Andromeda walked away, ruffled Rayla’s hair over the spot, covering Andromeda’s scent with his own.

The humans, of course, likely did not realize the significance of all the scent marking going on, but Callum, Corvus, and Ellis all noticed the touch.  The groups dispersed to their own sleeping spaces readily at this point, with Corvus cringing as he approached his bedroom bracing himself to hear something from the other one.  He heard nothing and when he entered the building found Skor sitting in the main room letting Callisto apply a compress to his sprained ankle.  Ellis, as before, slept on top of Ava in the main room of Lujanne’s manor house.  Callum and Ezran shared their guest room and both lay awake for hours thinking over what they had been told.  Runaan brooked no argument in taking Rayla back into the room with him that night, cuddling her to ensure they both had a better night’s sleep than the night before.  They would have to leave as soon as Skor could walk efficiently again.

Two days’ travel away, a small mishap involving a misplaced bit of magic and some leather resulted in a young mage and a soldier losing their horses.  The horses, fortunately, escaped and made their way comfortably to the village at the foot of the Cursed Caldera, or Lunar Peak.  The mage and soldier were left to travel on foot the rest of the way to the mountain.  The delay wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Notes:

The LOREE

The ballad they mention in this chapter is Take Me To Church by Hozier in my head. That song is where I got the idea.

https://youtu.be/MYSVMgRr6pw?si=yPdUkz0piZzP5aCH link to the song.

Chapter 25: Grief

Summary:

Ezran finally has a bit of a breakdown, and we learn a bit more about Runaan.

Runaan did his rounds every day, patrolling the Nexus to keep an eye out for whoever was following them and to keep track of those under his . . . well.  He was increasingly thinking of it as his protection rather than his command.  Today was no exception, though this time Rayla was not at his heel as a little shadow as she had been the day before.  Andromeda had needed company and she had volunteered to stay in and comfort her friend while Ram took Callum to the Moon Pools for further lectures on elven ceremonies.  Lujanne was circling above on her phoenix on her own sort of patrols.  Callisto and Skor were, inevitably, together, walking around the cleared areas of the Nexus to exercise Skor’s healing ankle.  

Privately, Runaan allowed himself to be ironically thankful for Skor’s injury, as it seemed to have caused Callisto to completely forget the cut on his own calf muscle from the soldiers at the Banther Lodge.  He was confident Callisto’s own broken arm wouldn’t have been enough to distract them.  

Ellis and Ava he found easily enough, not far from Skor and Callisto, the girl wrestling with her wolf and greeting him cheerfully.  The little dragonlet, Azymondias, was doing his best to play with them, and the wolf was being very gentle with the tiny creature.  Ezran, however, was curiously missing from the little group, and Runaan excused himself quickly to track the boy down.

He found Corvus first, the tracker clearly on the same trail as he was.  He pursed his lips and cleared his throat to get the human’s attention, raising an eyebrow when it caused him to whirl around in shock. “Looking for your young king?” He asked though he knew the answer, narrowing his eyes pointedly.

Corvus didn’t bother to deny it. “He slipped away while we were playing with Ellis and Ava.  I need to make sure he’s safe.”

“I will look for him.” Runaan said firmly, and tilted his head back towards the other small children. “I will keep your king safe, while you keep mine.”

There was a subtle threat in his tone but Runaan didn’t make it explicit, just holding the young man’s dark eyes until Corvus nodded slowly and turned around.  There was still the very real possibility that the tracker would try to kidnap the human princes and flee, so Runaan had no intention of allowing him to sneak off alone with either of them.

He resumed following the trail after Corvus had gone past him.  It didn’t take him long to locate Ezran, sitting on the ground in the shelter of a large rock, densely surrounded by trees.  Blue roses grew around the stone, just a small path and clearing to where the boy was sitting.  He was weeping quietly with his little legs pulled up to his chest and his face buried in his knees, and Runaan’s heart ached at the sight of it.  This was an ancient site built for grieving, from the look of it, part of one of the gardens that had long since fallen into disrepair, and it seemed ten millennia later it was still serving that purpose.

He snapped a twig on purpose to announce himself, and Ezran peeked up at him and his shoulders shuddered as he gave a little sob and hunched in on himself further.  Runaan approached him carefully, sitting down just within reach, but refraining from actually touching him without an invitation.  He stayed quiet for a while, just looking up at the sky and at the forest around them, one ear tilted toward the boy’s quiet tears, waiting for him to be ready to talk. 

When Ezran eventually quieted, a little, he silently passed him a waterskin and let the boy take a drink.  Only when Ezran had hydrated a bit did he break the silence. “I’m not going to pry.” He said as gently as he could, not looking directly down at the boy. “But if you would like to talk . . . I am here.”

He could feel Ezran staring at him with bright grey eyes. “I . . .” Ezran looked down at the waterskin and turned it over in his hands. “I just miss my dad.” he said in a small voice. 

His father.  The king who had killed Avizandum.  The king who had led an unprovoked attack - for . . . understandable reasons - into Xadia nine years ago.  The king they had been sent to kill, who they had spared and yet who died anyway under mysterious circumstances.

Runaan didn’t let his reaction show on his face.  His own feelings about the man were one thing - they didn’t invalidate the child’s attachment to his father.  Runaan let out a slow breath, recontextualizing it in his own mind, remembering the loss of his own father.  Remembering Rayla’s loss.  That was the grief the boy was facing.

“Ellis was talking about her family,” Ezran confessed. “And how her dad is really strict, but she knows he loves her, and I just.” he sniffled. “I feel bad, because I know he hurt people - he hurt you, he killed Zym’s dad, you said he brought more hate into the world than love, but he loved me .  I never saw that part of him.  He was silly and kind and taught me so much, he gave great hugs and still sang to me when he put me to bed.” His voice was getting more frantic and his little shoulders heaved again and he buried his face once more in his knees. 

Runaan took another slow breath and forced himself not to reach over and touch the boy’s shoulders. “You are allowed to grieve for your father, Ezran.” he said softly. “No matter how anyone else felt about him.  Your loss is made no less for how he hurt someone else.  Everyone hurts people at some point in their lives.” He pursed his lips and added, “And I’m sorry that you must live with anyone making the judgment that he was more dangerous than he was . . . worthy of living and loving you.  But the truth is, he could have been the most horrid, awful person in the world - which I do not believe - and you could still love him, and miss him, as your father.”

Ezran shook in the little ball he was curled into, and sniffled audibly. “I love him.” He said, muffled into the fabric of his trousers. “I just want a hug from him.  It’s not the same from Callum.  And I don’t know how to talk to Callum about it.”

“He is suffering from the same loss,” Runaan reminded him. “Perhaps he feels just as confused about talking to you.”

Ezran bit his lip and shook his head. “I can’t.” He whispered, his bottom lip trembling again. “It’s not just - it’s not just you.  I miss him so much , and Callum - when we went through the ice, after?  Callum was drawing Mom.  He misses her too, and I feel so guilty because I miss Dad so much more than her.” His voice cracked when he admitted it and he seemed to shrink even more.

That one . . . that struck a little close to home, and Runaan looked up at the sky in favor of looking at the boy any longer, wondering to himself if he was going to make it through this conversation without crying too. “You would have been hardly a year old when she died.” He said.

“But she’s my mom,” Ezran replied, audibly crying again.

Runaan sighed slowly through his nose and closed his eyes. “My mother was killed when I was three.” He said softly. “I learned what she looked like through . . . illusions and portraits.  I didn’t know her much better than you would have known your mother, at that age.”

“I learned what Mom looked like from Callum’s sketches,” Ezran confessed. “And the official portraits all over the castle.”

“My father,” Runaan continued, though his heart still ached so sharply at the memory, “didn’t pass until twenty years later.  I was twenty-three.  I’m going to tell you something I had to learn for myself, and I wish someone had warned me when I was much younger.  No two losses will ever feel the same, even if their role in your life was the same.  Because no two people are precisely the same, and no two relationships could ever be the same.” He looked back down to meet Ezran’s eyes. “We both lost our mothers before we really had relationships with them.  There is its own kind of grief in losing that possibility . . . but it will never sting as much as losing someone you did know, and had time to actively love.”

Ezran sniffled. “I . . . I think I love her,” He said hesitantly. “From what Callum and Dad have told me . . .”

Runaan’s heart physically hurt in his chest and he offered the boy his hand, unable anymore to resist at least offering him physical support. “The love you have for their memory will never hurt as much as losing someone you knew to love.” He said. “It is something that we just . . . have to live with.  We will never get to love those women as much as our fathers or siblings did.  You can love their memory, their idea, you can grieve the loss of never having them, but you - neither of us ever really had them.”

Ezran sniffled and looked down again, staring at Runaan’s outstretched hand.  It took him a minute to shyly reach out and take it, but he was soon clutching Runaan’s fingers like a lifeline. “I don’t know what to do.” He confessed. “It hurts so much.  All I want is to get Zym home safe to his mom and then go back to my dad, but I can only do one of those things, and I just -” He sobbed. “I miss him.”

Runaan let the boy clutch his fingers and passed his thumb gently back and forth over the smaller hands. “I wish I could tell you it will pass.” He said gently. “But the truth is, grief . . . comes and goes like the phases of the moon.  I can promise you it won’t always feel like this, this . . . all-consuming sting.  It will grow more dull, scar over like an old wound.  One day you will be able to think of him, talk about him, without the pain overwhelming you.  But it never goes away entirely.  And . . .” He paused to evaluate what he was about to say, and opted to just commit to it.  He would have appreciated hearing it when he was younger, at least. “There will still be days, times, even decades after his death, where something can reopen it and the loss will feel fresh.  I still have those days with my father.  But it does get easier to recover from them.  Every time, you remember living through it before.”

Ezran sniffled, and squeezed his hand. “You’re not . . . it’s not the same.  But . . . can I have a hug?” He asked plaintively.

Runaan didn’t hesitate for a moment, just grateful to finally be allowed to offer this comfort.  He didn’t even answer aloud, just shifting over to scoop Ezran in against his side, rolling onto his hip a bit to let the boy burrow into his coat like Rayla did.  He settled his arms around Ezran’s shoulders and sighed softly, finally, privately, admitting to himself that he’d grown fond of the human princes.  

Skor would give him such a lecture.  He winced at the thought of it, above Ezran’s head.

“What happened to your parents?” Ezran asked into his coat, and Runaan sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“My mother was an assassin, too,” He said evenly. “She returned to duty after I was born, and . . . well.  One mission she didn’t return to the forest.  So it goes with this profession.  She was the oldest assassin in Moonshadow Forest’s history, for over a century at the time of her death.  She was thirty-three.”

Ezran sniffled. “Rayla said you’re older than that.”

He cracked a smile despite himself and admitted, “Yes.  Thirty-five.  Skor is . .. getting close to the record as well.”

“What about your dad?” 

Runaan bit his lip, and his hesitation made Ezran lean back and look up at him with big, sympathetic eyes. “You don’t have to tell me,” The boy said quickly. “If it’s too hard . . .”

He sighed softly and hugged the boy a little tighter for a moment to reassure him. “It’s all right, Ezran.  But like you, I knew my father very well.” he tried and failed to smile. “I . . . he was . . . a very gentle man.  He was a gardener.  Simple and kind.  He . . . the villagers said he was never the same after my mother died.  I never knew what he was like before, so I don’t know.  He . . .” He weighed how much of the story to tell, and sighed softly. “We had finally reconciled after the only real fight we ever had when he left.  He didn’t leave behind a note or an explanation.  He just disappeared, wandered into the forest by himself.  Skor found . . . his remains a few weeks later and brought me his horn cuffs and locket.  I don’t know why he gave up, just that he . . . decided he couldn’t keep living anymore.”

Ezran unexpectedly hugged him a little tighter around the ribs, and Runaan looked down at him in surprise. “I’m sorry.” The boy said sincerely. “I can’t imagine my dad just . . . leaving me and Callum like that.”

Runaan smiled sadly down at him. “I was much older than you are now, young prince.” King, but he pardoned the slip of the tongue in the face of the child’s grief. “I had my own life by then, I didn’t truly need him anymore.”

“Dad says - said you always need your parents, a little bit.” Ezran said firmly.

Runaan let out a soft breath of amusement. “We need the ones we love,” He allowed. “But I didn’t rely on him anymore.  Perhaps that was all he was really waiting for, after my mother was gone.  I don’t know.”

“Could you summon him to ask?” Ezran asked curiously. “Like Lujanne was saying about the Moon pools.”

The thought had occurred to him, but Runaan shook his head. “Is it fair to disturb the peace of the dead for an answer that will not change my life?” He pointed out. “Such rituals are sacred.  We don’t do them for . . . personal things.”

Ezran nodded his understanding and sniffled again, wiping his face on his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Ezran.” Runaan said softly. “If there is anything you need - anything we can do - I am here.” Privately, he suspected Callisto would do just about anything for the child by now too, but he couldn’t speak for them for certain. “I know it’s small comfort with what you have suffered, but . . . it is all I can do.”

“Thank you.” Ezran said seriously, and burrowed into his coat. “One more hug?”

Runaan shifted his weight to pick the ten year old up, huffing softly with the effort - humans were heavier than elves, inch for inch, and he hadn’t accounted for that with Ezran’s size - and letting the boy hug around his neck.  He kept one arm under his legs to support him but hugged him close with the other, no longer able to bring himself to care that it scent marked the child as if Ezran was his own. 

For now, both boys were his.  They were under his protection and would remain so until they faced the dragons.  Then . . . after that he didn’t know.

Ezran hugged him just as tightly for a long minute, giving a few long, shuddering breaths before his breathing evened out and he sat back in Runaan’s grip.  He wiped his face clean and smiled weakly. “I think I’m okay now.  I can go clean up and . . . help Zym learn how to fly.”

“I’ll walk you to the bathhouse.” Runaan said before he even thought about it, setting Ezran on his feet and standing up himself.  He dusted the grass off and when Ezran reached up, took the boy’s hand to guide him out of the trees. 

The treeline had a convenient vantage point and a quick cast of his eyes around the clearings below and the ruins above revealed all of his people.  Callisto and Ram were with Corvus, Ava, and Ellis now.  Callum and Skor sat on the edge of one of the Moon Pools, discussing something else.  Andromeda and Rayla had emerged and were playing tag on the stairs.  Lujanne landed her phoenix above them all.

And Ezran was still holding his hand like a lifeline.

In a way, he supposed it was.  He could have killed this boy - and it would have done nothing but end his young life.  This was no justice.

He looked down at Ezran as they walked and his blood ran cold as he wondered what he would do if the Dragon Queen chose not to agree to the peace.  If she still demanded this child’s blood as a price for her pain.  His best efforts would come to nothing against an archdragon.

Could he do her bidding to save the lives at home, after how hard the boy had worked to help him do so?

Ram’s challenge from dinner the night before echoed in his mind.

How much blood must be spilled before their debts were paid, indeed.

Notes:

I'm sorry. It had to be done.

Chapter 26: Skor's Story

Summary:

Callum asks Skor a question he's been wanting to know for a few days. Ellis asks a question of her own after they return, and gets a much lighter answer.

Notes:

Chapter Content Warnings: discussion of torture, mostly non-graphic, throat trauma, choking, blood, and a very brief incidence of tooth trauma.

“So, can I ask you something kind of personal?” The question took him by surprise and he blinked down at Callum.  The boy had asked if they could talk for a moment away from the others and he’d gone, leaving Ram and Callisto locked in a discussion about marking ceremonies, but this wasn’t the sort of question he’d been expecting.  Honestly, he’d been expecting something about grief and how to handle loss, given where they were and how much he’d been learning from Ram about their old rituals.

After a long moment to breathe and process the question he tilted his head, sinking into a seated position on the edge of one of the moon pools. “You can ask.  I don’t promise an answer.” He concluded aloud.

Callum sat down beside him with a serious nod. “I understand.  I’ve just - I’ve wanted to ask for a few days but so much has been happening.” He looked down briefly as if to gather himself and then looked back up at Skor with determination. “What happened with you and my aunt Amaya?” 

Silent orders and the most terrifying experience of his life. “You don’t want to know that story.” He said flatly.

“I do, actually.” Callum said firmly. “Look, I . . . I know Aunt Amaya isn’t the same person when she’s not around us.  I know she’s done - she’s done awful things, she’s a soldier.  But you’re a friend now, too, and I want to understand your perspective on who she is.  I think we owe that to you.”

“You don’t.  An’ you don’t want to know, you just think ye should.” Skor pointed out, heart sinking.

Callum held his gaze with surprisingly hard green eyes. “Maybe I want to because I think I should.  Does it matter?” He sighed. “If it’s just too hard to talk about, that’s okay, I’m not going to just keep pushing you.  But I really do want to know, and understand where you’re coming from.”

Very few people knew the whole truth.  Runaan, who had been on the mission that abandoned him.  Callisto, who he’d confessed nearly all of it to over time.  Perhaps a few others whose family had been on that mission with him knew the basics from their own stories.  The Keepers who he had poured his heart out to over the years, who had offered him comfort and helped him learn to cope.

He looked down into the young prince’s eyes and sighed through his nose.  He pulled a bag of sootheberries Callisto had gathered for him from his pocket and popped a few into his mouth, letting the juices soften and prepare his damaged throat for talking for a while.  He took his time chewing them and when he was done rubbed his temples. “I was sixteen.” He admitted roughly. 

Callum sat up a little straighter but kept quiet, watching him attentively.

Skor didn’t meet his eyes, instead casting his gaze towards the ground, not really seeing it anymore as he thought back to the event. “My team was scoutin’ a new human base on the Xadian side of the border.  I fucked up.  My sword didn’t unfold, and I got caught.

“Was taken back in for interrogation.  I didn’t give them anythin’.” His mouth twisted up in an unpleasant sort of smile. “The questions . . . turned to beatings.  Dunno how they expected me t’ think to answer them when I was hurt that bad.”

“Aunt Amaya did that to you?” Callum asked in a small voice. 

“She’s not there yet.” Skor looked up at the sky for a moment and then closed his eyes against the glare of the sun, wishing for the comforting chill of night and the gleam of the moon as he folded his hands and turned his face down away from it again. “It was a man, doin’ most of it.  Her man, one of her voices.  Not the one she uses now, that one’s  . . . younger.”

He opted to skip the details of the beatings, though thinking back on it he could feel every wound in the falseness of memory. “He lost his temper eventually.  I was tied do the ground, couldn’t get up - he put his boot across my neck.” He touched his own throat, shuddering at the memory of the compression, the heated cruelty of the man’s face as he rested more and more of his weight on that boot. “And your throat, it’s . . . fragile.  Enough weight and it just . . .” collapses .  He swallowed, painfully, remembering all to well the way he’d tried under that boot. 

“She interrupted,” He admitted. “I dunno what she said - it was so long ago, an’ no one spoke for her, was just her hands and I didn’t know your KSL enough then.  Can’t remember it well enough to say.  But he stomped down and all I know is I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t fuckin’ see- ” He broke off to take a deep breath and rub his face tiredly. 

When he cast his eyes subtly to the side to look, Callum looked horrified, the boy’s fingers digging into his pants, but he wasn’t telling him to stop.  If anything, he set his jaw with even more stubbornness when Skor looked at him, as if daring him to question the prince’s decision to hear this story.

“I remember she was there when things went black.” Skor continued quietly. “An’ when I woke up . . . I woke up with knives in my neck.” He raised his chin and flipped his hair out of the way, brushing his fingers over the scars in his throat. “But I wasn’t tied anymore - stupid of them, dunno what they thought would happen.  I broke free.  She was there again, hit me in the face with that damned shield.” He tongued the fang she’d broken with the shield bash, wincing at how it had rattled his head, how everything had hurt at just the feeling of the air moving around him.  How his breath had rattled for the very first time. 

“Problem for them is . . . I don’t use magic much, but I’ve got a good hand at it.  A few runes, what little energy I could spare, enough of the camp went pitch-dark that I could slip out.  I made it back to camp and found my team had already gone home.  I didn’t catch up to them until I made it back to the forest.  I was . . . I couldn’t work for months.  Wasn’t sure I ever would again.  I healed, physically.  Mentally took longer.” He pursed his lips. “No one’s ever caught me like that again.”

Callum took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry.” He said softly. “I didn’t know . . . I know she’s different with her enemies.  I just - I can’t believe she’d have someone tortured.  She always says it’s pointless and too cruel, now, but maybe she just . . . hadn’t learned that yet back then.”

 “I wouldn’t trust she’s changed.” Skor said flatly. 

“I don’t blame you.” Callum said honestly, shrugging a little when Skor looked at him. “I just . . . I want to believe that, because I trust that you’re telling me the truth, but it’s still hard to think of my aunt like that.  Thank you for telling me.  I know we’ll see her again, once we get through all this, but if we confront her again while you’re still with us, we’ll stand up for you.  I promise.  We’ll do what we can to protect you guys as much as you protect us.”

He was determined , and Skor found himself a little surprised and at a loss at the sight of a human who was so willing to risk his life - or at least his relationship with an aunt he clearly adored - for assassins he’d met hardly more than a week ago.  He nodded slowly, unsure what else to do. “Callum . . .”

“What is it?”

“Don’t . . . go around with that story.” Skor said roughly. “You got the highlights.  That’s what Runaan knows about it.  Callisto . . . knows more.  The others know less .  I don’t talk about it.  I don’t like to think about it.  They know that woman took my voice an’ that I’m afraid of her.  That’s it.”

Callum nodded seriously. “I’ll keep your secrets, I promise.  Thank you for sharing them.  I feel like I understand a little better now.” He offered his hand and Skor recognized it as a human gesture for making a deal, shaking hands.

He opted to respond to it with a more Moonshadow gesture of clasping the boy’s proffered arm, accepting his sympathy with a nod.  Callum reacted to it well, clasping Skor’s arm as indicated and nodding back. 

Maybe he was wrong about this one.  Skor pitied him, a little.  He would have a rough life growing up sympathizing with elves in a world of humans that hated them.  He hoped for Callum’s sake that Ezran grew up indulgent of his elder brother’s curiosities, even if Ezran grew out of his similar empathy. 

 

After the somewhat harrowing day some of them had had, the small joy of playing with the young children, wolf, and dragon was a welcome respite.  Young Zym and Ezran were exhausted enough to be napping a bit, but Ellis and Ava seemed to have endless reserves of energy and continued to bounce around and wrestle with whoever would take them.  Callisto threw a ball for the wolf.  Ellis clambered up a rock and flopped down on her back with her head hanging off towards Runaan and Rayla. “Do you guys have pets?” She asked suddenly. “I have my Ava!  But my family has lots of them, Daddy runs the stables so we always have animals around!  That’s why we have so many mouths to feed.  Lots of people keep pets though, like horses to ride, but horses aren’t magical!  If everything in Xadia is magical what kind of animals do you have there?”

When she finally paused for breath, much to the elves’ amusement, it was Runaan who answered her. “We do, sometimes.  Moonshadow elves mostly ride shadowpaws or moonstriders in place of horses.”

“That’s so cool!” She cried cheerfully. “What’s a shadowpaw or moonstrider?”

Andromeda laughed out loud as the others chuckled. “Shadowpaws are very large cats,” She explained. “They can be shy, but they’re very gentle and sociable once they trust you, and we have a long history of trust between the cats and our people now.  That’s what most of us ride.  They’re usually black, but they can be other colors too, most of them very dark with bright feathers on their tails, ears, ruff, and paws.”

“Moonstriders are like massive foxes,” Callisto put in. “They’re even faster than shadowpaws, but they’re very high-strung and can be aggressive if they’re not socialized properly.  Almost anyone can handle a shadowpaw, but a moonstrider requires an experienced rider.”

Ram tossed the ball again for Ava and added, “Both of them, and moon phoenixes, are aligned with the moon’s magic, and so they can sort of bend perception and reality for how long a trip takes, making it shorter or longer as they wish.  Moonstriders are particularly liberal with it.”

“Almost all of us have them,” Andromeda said with a smile. “Mounts, that is.  I have a shadowpaw at home I call Scorchfeather because she scorched her feathers in a campfire once when she was a kitten.” 

“My shadowpaw is named Elros, after one of the ancient Moon Druids.” Ram said loftily, and yelped when Andromeda threw one of their light wooden balls at him.

“Callisto doesn’t keep pets, but I believe Skor leaves his shadowpaw in the care of the Rangers when we leave the forest,” Runaan explained. “His name is Lindir.”

Rayla flipped down from a tree branch to perch on another remnant of an old stone pillar. “We’ve got two in our house,” She said. 

Runaan nodded his agreement. “My moonstrider, Shinx, and my husband’s shadowpaw, Astari.”

“Because you won’t let me have one.” She pouted at him.

Runaan showed both his palms. “Don’t blame me for that,” He defended himself. “If you want your own mount, take it up with Ethari.  He’s the one who will have to care for it when we both leave.”

Rayla stuck her tongue out at him. “I could leave them with the Rangers like Skor does,” She suggested.

Her father narrowed his eyes at her and spread his hands. “It is not my decision, ask your other father when we get home.  I’m agreeing to nothing.”

Andromeda gave up trying to suppress her laughter at that point and her cackles set off several of the others into giggles that had both father and daughter turning pink.  Ellis laughed so hard she rolled off the rock and would have fallen if it weren’t for Ram catching her and letting her flop on the ground safely.  

The racket woke Zym and Ezran, who squinted at the group tiredly.  Zym yawned and Ezran pouted at them and sat up, rubbing his little face.  Callum broke away from his snickers to go help his brother up and get him to a proper bed to nap before they all convened for dinner.  Zym followed them, as he had been following Ezran around almost constantly since he hatched.

Lujanne watched it all happen with a peculiar look on her face.  After three centuries spent watching the humans from a distance, but keeping them so firmly far away, it was a revelation to see these human children treat her people and culture with such respect.  More than the children, the same applied to the young man who was now tossing a ball back and forth with Ram to tease the wolf.

It felt as though the very ground was shifting beneath their feet, like the moon had slightly changed its axis.  Something about these children’s choices had changed the bedrock of their world.  

Well, they’d find out how lasting that change was when they arrived at the Storm Spire!

Notes:

Too much whiplash?

Chapter 27: Followed (Again)

Summary:

Soren and Claudia catch up and confront Rayla. Runaan isn't happy about it.

Rayla had taken the opportunity between bouts of cramps to go on patrol, while Runaan appeared to be busy fussing over young Ezran.  Something had happened to concern him earlier, she guessed, but it wasn’t important enough - or at least not urgent enough - for him to bother explaining it, so she didn’t question it too much.  He would explain if she needed to know later.

The music took her by surprise as she strolled warily down the lit walk.  She frowned - this was an unfamiliar noise.  It didn’t fit with anything the other elves carried.  Something unnatural was making it, then.

Magic.  She felt the exhaustion pulling at her bones as she kept walking, recognized the creeping feeling from the last time she’d faced off with a mage.  Her steps grew heavy and her eyelids weighted.  She had to find a way to stay awake.

There!  A patch of blue roses.  She stumbled over to the bush and picked one of the flowers, pricking herself with the thorn.  The sudden pain pulled her back towards wakefulness, but she didn’t let it show.  Instead, she let herself flop to the ground to draw in her attackers, to identify who or what it was that was trying to hunt her.

It was possible, after all, that it was just some overly bold shiverspider that thought it could handle her.  They could make all sorts of unnatural noises as lures.  They hadn’t seen any until now, and Lujanne hadn’t mentioned them still living on the mountain, but it was still possible. 

Her hopes were dashed by the sound of approaching footsteps.  Two sets, she thought from the sound of it.  One wearing metal plated boots.  The other in slightly softer heels.  Her heart sank.  The heels - it was probably the mage, and from what Callum had said, if there was only one armored accomplice with her, the best guess Rayla had was that it was her brother, the Crownguard. 

“Do it,” Claudia urged, confirming Rayla’s suspicions.  Her gut clenched and Rayla resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose in annoyance at her anxiety setting off her cramps.  A sword unsheathed above her and she kept her muscles tense, ready to move when he swung it.  She would know when his armor shifted when he was ready to move.

The movement stopped as he drew up above her.  She remained still, keeping her face peaceful. 

“Go on, do it,” Claudia urged, sounding annoyed. “What are you waiting for?  She’s a Moonshadow elf .  And she kidnapped the princes.  You just have to-”

“I know,” The man’s voice was just as annoyed as he cut her off, but Rayla detected more hesitance in him than the mage. “I’ve just never attacked someone who’s sleeping before.  It doesn’t seem-” he broke off for a moment and Rayla wondered what his hesitance was here. “Sporting.” 

She somehow doubted that was the word he’d had in mind and she wondered why he’d changed it.

“You want me to wake her?” The mage sneered.

Silence.

A huff. “And how long do you need her to be awake for it to be sporting?  Ten seconds?  Five?”

Okay, she might have some honor to work with as far as the man went. 

“One second.”

Or not.

“Okay!  On three.” The mage said. “One.”

He drew his sword back again and posed above Rayla.

“Two.” 

Rayla didn’t wait for the third second.

 

They were about to settle the children for bed after a last meal when Callisto’s tone instantly caught Runaan’s attention, tense and alarmed. “Does anyone else hear that?”

Glancing at them and twitching his ears in the same direction as they all froze, Runaan’s blood ran cold as he recognized the sound of metal clashing against metal.  He quickly ran his eyes over who was present.  The other elves were all close by, with the exception of Ram and Lujanne, who were standing a little apart from them with Phoe-Phoe and Ava.

“Rayla,” Her name came out in a rush of breath as his heart clenched with the realization.  She was the only one missing.

He bolted for the noise with barely a further thought, trusting that Ezran and Callum would be safe near Lujanne in the heart of the Nexus.  A few of the moths that fluttered around the Nexus flew along his path, guiding him directly to the fight.  He heard the words of Dark Magic and Rayla’s cry of pain lit a rage in his heart that he ruthlessly caged for use when it wouldn’t get in his way.

There was space between them when he arrived, sensing the others around him.  He trusted them to take appropriate positions and dropped from the trees directly between Rayla and the swordsman who had drawn back to strike at her again, brandishing his own comparable swords to block him.  Around him more blades unfolded and flickered into existence.  Skor took up a position behind the human swordsman, a blade poking into his back.  Callisto flanked Runaan, far enough away to block any attempts by the swordsman to dodge in their direction.  Andromeda’s sickles both wrapped around the neck of the mage, forcing her to lean back awkwardly against the older woman.  Ram flanked them just as Callisto was doing, twirling throwing daggers between his fingers.  Corvus, surprisingly, had kept up and stood between the other two humans. 

Everything went still for a moment.  Both humans and Rayla were breathing heavily.  Runaan tilted his head and angled his ear back towards her, heart pounding erratically in his chest. “Are you all right, Rayla?”

“I’m fine,” She spat, and he could just imagine her flattened ears and the curl of her lip just from her tone. “I had it!”

“Sure, if it makes you feel better to say so,” The swordsman sneered from in front of him and Runaan narrowed his eyes, baring his fangs at the man.

“Stop!” Callum’s shout took them all by surprise. 

“Callum?” The mage asked in disbelief.

“Don’t fight each other,” Callum ordered, and Runaan noted the moths fluttering around him.  Something in the Nexus had approved of this - guided the boy to their sides.  He frowned deeply. “You’re not enemies.”

Every fiber of his being protested this, but the swordsman was actually lowering his blade at Callum’s urging, wasn’t even holding it up to block any attacks from Runaan. 

“Your friends tried t’ kill me!” Rayla protested. 

“They kidnapped you!”

“She threw mud in my face and some got in my mouth!”

Fascinating.  The mage was angry about their supposed kidnapping, but after being called off, the soldier’s priority wasn’t to contradict the prince, but to gripe about a petty grievance?

“Okay, okay,” Callum said, skidding in next to Runaan and putting his hands out in a calming gesture.  His back was to the elves, placing himself firmly on their side. “Knock it off a second.  Just let me explain.  First of all, Claudia and Soren, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I’m really glad to see you.”

“Are you kiddin’?” Rayla squawked. “They attacked me!  How can ye be glad ?”

“They bring dark magic to a sacred site,” Ram spat. “And violence to a place of grief and peace.”

“Bup bup bup bup bup!” Callum held up his fingers at them both to silence them. “Yeah, they’re two of my oldest friends, and I am glad to see them.” He turned back to the mage and soldier. “But not glad to see you trying to murder my new friend, Rayla, who happens to be-”

“She’s an elf!” The soldier half-shouted, but his sword remained low and he gestured only with his hands, going lower rather than looming over his young friend.

“But a good elf,” Callum contradicted, and Runaan’s back nearly straightened with offense. 

Rayla shot up beside him to speak her mind as he saw Skor’s expression twist unpleasantly behind the soldier’s shoulder. “What do ye mean ‘but a good elf’?” She demanded angrily.

Runaan was slightly grateful for her fury as it drew her into his eyeline, and he could glance her over and be sure almost right away she had no major cuts or lacerations.  He would check later for anything internal or beneath her armor.

“She kidnapped you and Prince Ezran, how can she be-” the mage started, and broke off abruptly when Andromeda’s sickles tightened on her neck.  They weren’t yet drawing blood but the threat was clear.

“There was no kidnapping,” Callum said firmly. “We went with her and the others by choice.  We knew about all of them when we left.”

“I can confirm that,” Corvus said seriously, lowering his own weapon and looking between the other humans.

The swordsman narrowed his mud-encrusted eyes at him. “And who are you exactly?”

Interesting that he didn’t know.

“I’m Corvus.  One of General Amaya’s personal trackers.” Corvus didn’t miss a beat in replying coolly. “She sent me to find and recover her nephews safely.  And who exactly sent you?”

The swordsman paused for a moment, looking from Corvus to the mage and back. “. . . Also . . . General Amaya,” he said slowly.

Corvus frowned. “Really?” he said just as slowly, brows angled skeptically. “Odd.  I would have thought she’d send one of her own.”

“Commander Gren is uh, indisposed.  So Lord Viren sent us in his stead.” The mage explained, and her fingers spread a little wider as Andromeda huffed from behind her. 

Alarm bells went off in Runaan’s mind after the other suspicions they’d had all seemed to link back to Lord Viren, but none of them seemed to have any effect on Prince Callum.  The boy shrugged it off with a roll of his shoulders and a shake of his head. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.  It’s . . . good to see some familiar faces.  The elves have been really helpful with a lot, but . . . knowing what happened to Dad . . . it’s just nice to see an older friend too.”

Both humans frowned. “You . . . already know what happened to the king?” The mage asked tentatively. 

“Yeah.  We were with the elves when the magic that was holding them to the task just broke, even though they weren’t anywhere near him.” Callum said, not seeming to notice the alarm in the teenagers’ faces as they exchanged glances. “Listen, it’s late.  Why don’t we all just go get some rest and cool off.  Everyone lower your weapons, and we’ll explain everything in the morning.”

Runaan waited until the swordsman sheathed his blade to fold his own again and sling the bow across his chest.  Skor’s lip curled but he reluctantly stepped back, holding his own sword neutral again.  Callisto leaned on their glaive rather than folding it up again, eyes narrow. 

“Mages first,” Andromeda’s voice was smooth and lyrical the way it got when she was teasing or threatening someone.  

“Age before beauty,” The mage sneered in reply.

Andromeda chuckled humorlessly. “Cute.  But I said it first, darling.”

“How would that work?” Ram asked idly. “Either way I think that works out in Andromeda’s favor.”

“Don’t be a bully, Ram,” Callisto taunted a bit with a smirk. “From what Ezran’s said, Claudia’s only sixteen, she has time t’ grow into herself.”

Claudia looked furious, but she lowered her hands and she smiled when Callum looked at her.  Only once she had relaxed did Andromeda unhook her sickles from around the young woman’s neck and let her stand up properly. 

Runaan turned immediately to Rayla with everyone disarmed, crouching beside her and running his eyes critically over her. “Rayla, come here.” He ordered, tugging her into reach the moment she let him touch her, tucking her in to examine her.

“I told ye, I’m fine, Runaan,” She protested verbally, but she let him pull her in, and she knelt in front of him to let him fuss. “I had that.”

Thankfully, the others began to move back towards the buildings for warm beds, leaving them alone, and Runaan made a mental note to thank them for the privacy later as he examined her hands.  They were bright pink under the mud that he brushed away, and she winced when he touched them, as if they were just barely burned. 

“What happened to your hands?” He asked, his tone more neutral than he felt.

Rayla took a moment to respond and when she did it was reluctantly. “The mage, Claudia, she threw somethin’ on ma swords and made ’em too hot t’ touch, while I was holdin’ ’em.  It’s just a little through the mud though, I’m okay.”

Runaan wiped the worst of the mud off her hands around her gloves and took her wrists in his hands, holding them together, breathing carefully before looking her in the eyes.  Her ears were laid back and her eyes were wide with worry. “How did they catch you?” He asked evenly. 

She straightened her back and replied dutifully as always. “They tried t’ use a spell on me, but I didn’t fall for it,” She said. “It was supposed t’ be a sleep spell, so I faked it, I grabbed a blue rose and pricked myself t’ stay awake, and then when Soren was ready t’ attack me, I took him by surprise instead.”

Something cold settled in the pit of his stomach and Runaan narrowed his eyes at her. “You knew what you were going up against,” He said slowly.

Rayla shifted uncomfortably, catching his displeased tone. “Yes?” She confirmed hesitantly. “Sort of.”

“I am just trying to make certain I understand what happened,” Runaan told her, covering her wounded hands with his own. “You discovered what you were facing - that you were outnumbered and one of your opponents was a mage - and you chose to fight instead of retreating for the reinforcements you knew you had available?”

Rayla winced. “I thought I could handle it.” She said weakly. 

“That is besides the point.  Have I not taught you to use every advantage you have at your disposal?  That includes asking for help!” Runaan reminded her, his fingers tense around hers though he carefully didn’t compress them. “You could have asked anyone, it didn’t have to be me, anything that meant you weren’t going into a fight outnumbered, against a ranged opponent with no real ranged weapons.”

Rayla shrank under his censure. “I just thought . . .”

This was exactly what Ram had warned him about.  She had thrown herself into things to prove herself to him again, and Runaan stopped himself short of scolding her, suddenly realizing it would only fuel her to fight harder.  To do this again, over and over until -

Until she felt she’d proven herself to him.

He took a deep, slow breath and let go of her hands, carefully setting aside his own reactive anger and fear for her, and touched her chin to raise her eyes to his again. “You have nothing to prove to me, darling.” He said firmly, knowing too well that it was virtually useless - but trying to reassure her was all he had.  What else could he do, in this moment? “I am not saying you weren’t capable.  I am saying I wish you had called on the resources you had while you have them.  Just promise me you will do better about that .  Please.”

Rayla blinked at him, as if confused by his step back from how harsh he had been with her.  She bit her lip, looking at first one eye, then the other, studying his face before nodding slowly. “I’ll work on it.” She promised. 

“Good.  Now come here.” He tugged her in and Rayla went willingly.  He let his knees fall to the ground so he was kneeling too, allowing him to get a little closer to her to hug her against his chest, nearly hidden by his hair and arms settling around her comparatively tiny frame. 

When they parted she tucked the braid he’d given her behind her ear carefully and glanced over her shoulder. “My swords are in the mud,” She confessed, and he let her go to pick them up.

“Let’s go get your hands seen to,” He said firmly when he saw her wince a little as she folded the butterfly blades and tucked them against her back. “Then you are sleeping with me again.”

She snorted but she was smiling a little, looking down at the path rather than at his eyes. “Okay, Dad.”

His voice caught in his throat again at the title, and he tucked her under his arm as they walked back to their building at the Nexus.  The others had all disappeared into somewhere by now, and they saw no one as they mounted the stairs, at least.

Lucky for the mage and soldier, honestly.  His temper still hadn’t fully cooled, though he had set it aside to care for his cub.  His daughter.  

As he put the soothing cream on her hands, somewhat unnecessarily, to make her more comfortable to sleep, he was transported back to years in the past when he had applied this same cream to her itching spots after she first discovered what he did.  The tiny frame scowling bitterly at his hands, refusing to look at his face.  The way she had complained the entire time.

There was no complaining now, instead it was sighs of relief she tried to hide.  She still wasn’t looking at him, but it was interest on her face, not bitterness.  It was still the same little girl he had held all those years ago, though.  The same face whose hands he had bandaged time and again to prepare her for training. The same one he had patched up after her experience with the river on the blood moon.  The one he had placed sun’s tears poultice over her scrapes and bruises every day after training for years on end.  The same one he had held on his lap while Ti- while her mother did this for her after her first experience with nettles at the tender age of four.  The same one he had steadied in his hands as she brandished a little stick like a sword.  The little bundle he had handed over to Tiadrin in that little copse of trees on the plains before they reached Moonshadow Forest, when she had gone into labor early.

She wouldn’t remember all of those.  She would remember mostly the ones that featured only him and Ethari, with comparatively few from her other parents.  

What closure could there possibly be for him down this thought trail?  Her other parents were dead.  He would never get to confront them about their choices, never get to tell them how their selfishness had hurt him.  How he had set his own dreams of having a child aside to take care of theirs, only for them to be gone so long she became more his than theirs.  

Rayla didn’t comment on how heavily he scent marked her when he was done soothing her hands, or how he cuddled her where she couldn’t move without his knowledge when they settled into bed.  She just huffed a little at the position and submitted to it.

Skor was right.

Rayla was his .

He would never let anything stand in the way of that again.

Chapter 28: Reactions

Summary:

Callum's happy to see his childhood friends again, but even the other humans have some reservations. Corvus confesses to Callisto, and Ezran finds comfort in Andromeda and Ram.

Notes:

bit of a shorter chapter this time but it felt okay to me.

Worry kept Corvus awake that night.  He eventually gave up trying to sleep in the comfortable bed he’d been given, and crept instead outside to sit in the grass.  This place didn’t have stairs but he could lean on the pillars that held up the roof over the door, and the fresh air helped him think.  Amaya had sent him after her nephews.  He had expected a followup, but Gren?

Gren wasn’t someone she sent away without hesitation.  Even for something this important.  Gren was a diplomat far before he was a soldier, as his insistence on refusing to carry a weapon could attest.  He was also the one Amaya trusted the most to be her voice.  If she had sent him, it was because she thought something was very, very wrong.  Something at the castle had alarmed her, but what?

She couldn’t possibly know the truth about the elves.  They had all heard Runaan’s claim at the Banther Lodge, of course, but she hadn’t had all the time he had to witness how they acted around the children.  She hadn’t heard the full story.  She had no reason to believe that they hadn’t killed the king and kidnapped the boys.  Without that information, what had she seen at the castle that left her suspicious enough to send Gren?

Beyond that, Gren wasn’t one to falter easily.  He was sweet, yes, and diplomatic, but that didn’t make him meek or anything less than stubborn.  He was just as strong-willed as Amaya when something mattered to him, and he cared about the boys as if they were his own nephews.  He lit up just as much as Amaya did when he found out he was going to see them, and wrote his own letters to them as well.  

Corvus was broken out of his thoughts by a light tap from behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see Callisto.  The elf had clearly tapped their foot on purpose to warn him of their presence, and they leaned in the doorframe to look at him now with their brows raised curiously. “What’s keepin’ you up, then?” They asked mildly, voice hushed despite the separation from their closed bedroom where Skor presumably still slept.

“Soren and Claudia.” Corvus confessed with a soft rush of breath.

Their brows quirked higher and they stepped out to sit beside him, lowering themself gracefully to the ground despite still being restricted to the use of only one hand. “Go on.” They prompted, turned a bit to face him, orange eyes a bit heavy with sleep but curious nonetheless.

“They weren’t sent by General Amaya, they were sent by Lord Viren.  Soren admitted it right away.” Corvus said with a frown. “But he did try to lie about it.  Why would he do that if there wasn’t something to hide?”

Callisto tilted their head thoughtfully. “You don’t believe their story about bein’ sent after her man couldn’t go?” They prompted.

Corvus shook his head quickly. “No.  Commander Gren is . . . very determined, and he loves the boys like his own nephews.  He was also in perfect health when I last saw him just a week ago at the Banther Lodge.  If he’s truly ‘indisposed’, then something happened that they’re not telling us.” He covered his mouth briefly with thought and sighed. “I’m trying to give them the benefit of the doubt.  It’s possible that they just didn’t have the time to explain right then, in the tension, and they’ll have a perfectly good explanation in the morning.  I just . . . can’t fathom what would have kept Gren away, if Amaya sent him.”

Callisto’s eyes were narrow and intrigued when he looked back over at the elf.  They were resting their cheek on their good hand, and they hummed softly and straightened up, looking up at the moon above them before giving a low sigh. “So.  If they were sent by Lord Viren, and something has happened to Commander Gren - what exactly are you suspicious of?  What do you think is happening?”

“I don’t know,” Corvus said honestly. “But everything has lined up too well with Lord Viren potentially being at fault for the murder of the king.  Soren is the head of the Crownguard, and whoever killed the king either got past him - or was in league with him.  It’s possible that he just reasonably trusted his father and Viren tricked him with everyone else.  It’s also possible that we’re wrong about everything, it could have been any number of the king’s other advisors.  It just . . . seems all too suspicious.  And Gren . . .” His heart clenched at the thought of what might have happened to him, and his shoulders dropped. “I just hope he’s okay.”

“You’re fond of him,” Callisto observed softly. 

Yes. “As much as I’m fond of anyone.”

Callisto didn’t press the point, for which he was grateful, all too aware of the elf’s own partner in the bed just inside. “So whatever the children say, you don’t trust their friends.  It’s possible that they are part of a larger conspiracy that killed their father.  So why reveal themselves to us?  Why attack?”

“Maybe they didn’t intend to get caught.” Corvus pointed out. “They ambushed Rayla on her own, and she was obviously at a disadvantage.  Maybe they planned to draw us apart, pick at the edges until they could get to the princes.” He frowned even as he said it. 

“Why bother?” Callisto prompted. “The girl has magic.  She could have attacked us all outright, and at least scattered us enough to attack the children.  Do they want the boys dead?  Or back to Katolis?”

Corvus frowned down at the ground. “I don’t know.” He said, stiff with frustration. “If the boys are dead, there’s legal processes that take place to replace the royal line.  That should block Viren taking control.  So he should want at least Ezran back in one piece.  But Callum . . . I don’t know.  Isolating Ezran might make him easier for Viren to manipulate, so they might not want his brother.”

Callisto hummed with a deep frown. “We don’t let the children out of our sight, then.” They said firmly. “Just in case.”

Corvus nodded, frowning too. “For all I know, Soren and Claudia have a perfectly good explanation for what they’re doing and what happened to Gren,” He reminded, though, and shrugged helplessly. “But it worries me.  Until I hear the explanation, I really don’t trust it.”

“Distrust is sometimes the easiest ticket to survival.” Callisto said without looking him in the eye, instead looking again up at the moon before standing up. “Though it goes without saying the blade of distrust can stab the wielder as well.”

“What kept you up?” Corvus asked curiously as they stepped away from him.

“Needed a piss.” They said over their shoulder and kept walking off into the bushes, and he found himself huffing a little incredulously that they had paused that sort of business to have a conversation with him.  They just went back to bed after returning a few minutes later, though, and seemed more relaxed, so he really had no reason to disbelieve them.

They were just a rather odd individual, he concluded wryly, and even the other elves treated them as such. 

 

Callum had been so happy to see their friends again, but Ezran frowned into his pillow, restless in bed long after his brother had gone to sleep.  Every time he started to drift off he remembered being in Lord Viren’s creepy dungeon, and the vicious snarl on Claudia’s face when she sent magic at them.  The way she had tried to convince him to hand over the egg, even while spitting such venom at Rayla just for being there.

It was like she didn’t realize how long he’d been putting up with people who lied to him and pretended.  He knew what it sounded like when people were just pretending to be nice, and she had been so obviously pretending.  She hadn’t even pretended very well, sending those smoke wolves to attack them after they ran away.

Of course Callum was convinced the smoke wolves wouldn’t have hurt them, that they were only after Rayla.  Ezran supposed it was possible , that they would have stopped, but he didn’t feel like trusting it.  The wolves weren’t alive anymore, they were just an unsettling imitation of an animal that didn’t think or feel anything, why would they stop attacking?  What would make them go away if Callum hadn’t used that spell on them?

It was also just mean of her to attack Rayla like that anyway.  Rayla had stopped when she saw the egg, even with how important this mission was to her people and to her personally.  She had set aside her personal and her people’s priorities for this greater moral purpose.  Claudia hadn’t done that.

Claudia never did stuff like that.  She and Lord Viren thought their way was best, they never really entertained people arguing with them.  Usually she never lost her temper like he did, but they’d seen a glimpse of how vicious she could be in the dungeon.   They’d hurt Rayla again this time, they’d tried to kill her, and Runaan had fussed over her all evening after they all returned.

Ezran frowned into his pillow and snuggled Bait tighter until the frog gave a little rumble of dissatisfaction, and he loosened his grip. “Sorry, buddy.” He whispered and blinked down at him briefly before looking over at Zym, curled up happily in a large bed made for a shadowpaw nearby. 

Soren was at least nice, Ezran had never had any reason to be afraid of him.  But Claudia . . . and they had both attacked Rayla.  He thought Soren could probably be talked onto their side.  His sister made Ezran way more nervous, though.  She always thought she was right, and she usually just thought people were stupid if they disagreed with her.  

Then there was whoever had sent them.  He didn’t really think Aunt Amaya would have sent two other teenagers to find them, even if one of them was the leader of the Crownguard, and she definitely wouldn’t have sent a dark mage after them.  But she would have sent someone, right?  It wasn’t just Corvus?  It didn’t make sense that Lord Viren was the only one looking for them now.  What had happened to whoever else she had sent after them?

He didn’t even know who to go to with his worries.  Runaan was preoccupied with Rayla, and as much as he appreciated the older man’s comfort, he didn’t want to get in his friend’s way as she took comfort from her dad.  He’d always been frustrated by it when people took his dad away when he needed him-

Tears pricked his eyes at the thought and he wiped them away and squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to cry and wake someone else up.

Callum didn’t believe him.  He trusted Soren and Claudia maybe even more than he trusted Ezran, no matter how often Ezran hesitated around Claudia and how much the animals didn’t like her or trust her.  So Ezran couldn’t get reassurance from him, his worries were just brushed off.

Callisto and Skor were just a few buildings away, he guessed, but Skor was also really upset and they were probably dealing with that.  Besides, he’d have to go over by Corvus for them, too.  He liked Corvus okay but he felt too vulnerable to go past someone who was so new to him for this.

Andromeda and Ram were in the next building over.  Ram was prickly, but he was prickly like Soren or Aunt Amaya, all sharp tongue and kind eyes.  And Andromeda had been warm with him almost since the beginning, had tucked him into bed like a parent every night on the road even once they started reliably sleeping in Skor’s tent.

“Come on, Bait,” Ezran whispered after a while when sleep just refused to come even though tiredness made his eyelids heavy and his eyes feel sandy when he blinked.  He crawled out of bed, careful not to wake Callum, and crept out of the room and then out of the building, down the path to the one where Andromeda and Ram were sleeping.  He knocked very lightly on the front door, suddenly unsure how they would react if he woke them up.

It was only a few beats, not long enough for his nervousness to really get the better of him, before Ram opened the door.  The man blinked down at him and his dark brows furrowed in concern. “Ezran?  What’s wrong?” he glanced out past Ezran as if he thought something might be after him.

Ezran hugged Bait to his chest and shyly admitted, “I can’t sleep.”

Ram blinked again but stood aside, gesturing him in. “Andromeda’s in there, she could use a cuddle anyway.” He shrugged. “Any particular reason?” He prompted as he ushered Ezran ahead into the bedroom. 

“I’m worried about Claudia,” Ezran confessed even as he climbed up in the bed and Andromeda sat up with a look of concern.  She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and he snuggled into her, grateful for her soft sleep clothes and the comfort of her embrace.  He carefully arranged Bait in their laps and the toad groaned gratefully at him. “I don’t know what to think.  I thought Aunt Amaya would send more people after us, but she’d never send a mage.  And I don’t like-” He broke off as Ram climbed into the bed on his other side, and then confessed quietly, “I don’t like Claudia.  She scares the animals, like a lot, and she scares me .  I don’t know what to think.”

He could feel the elves exchanging a glance over his head, and Andromeda scratched her fingers gently through his curls to soothe him. “They seem to be willing to listen to reason for now,” She said gently. “We’ll get a better explanation of what’s going on in the morning.”

“Maybe they’ll be convinced as Corvus was,” Ram pointed out.

Ezran shook his head. “Claudia doesn’t change her mind like that.”

They exchanged glances again and Andromeda hugged him. “Even if she doesn’t, we’ll keep you safe,” She promised him. “You, your brother, and little Azymondias will all be safe, no matter what.”

Ezran sniffled, his eyes burning so harshly he almost whined from the pain before the tears finally welled up and he blinked rapidly. “I don’t want to lose you all like I lost my dad.” He whimpered. 

“Oh, Ezran.” Andromeda hugged him, and he felt Ram reach over and rub over his shoulders too. “I wish I could promise you we would all be safe,” She said, sounding close to tears herself. “But I can’t.  All I can do is promise you we’ll do our best, that we won’t risk anything we don’t have to.”

“We’re going to be careful.” Ram said firmly, though when Ezran peeked at him his eyes were wet as well. “After all . . . we’ve got our families to go home to, too.  I’ll do my best to keep you, Callum, and Zym safe, but I don’t want my father to have to bury me, either.”

It helped.  Knowing that they weren’t going into this like his father had done, that they weren’t just resigning themselves to dying to ‘pay’ for some stupid cycle.  Ezran’s throat was too tight to talk but he nodded gratefully to them both and reached for Ram hesitantly.  The young man came at his urging and the two elves curled around him, cuddling him so close he could hear their heartbeats.  Their touch was curiously cool compared to humans, but once tucked under a blanket he didn’t mind.  Something felt very safe and familiar about being cuddled between two people who cared about him, though he couldn’t remember it ever happening before, and this time he actually managed to drift off to sleep.

Notes:

Y'all remember that scene from the flashbacks where Sarai and Harrow had bundled baby Ezran snuggled up between them in bed? Yeah. That. Ever think about how he can't possibly consciously remember that?

Chapter 29: Half Moon Lies

Summary:

Soren and Claudia attempt to explain - and avoid explaining - what's going on in Katolis. The princes and the elves explain what's been going on on their end. Ram and Callum have a confrontation, and Skor reminds Runaan of something he should have done already.

Notes:

title is stolen from the episode because I don't have one

Andromeda had no intention of eating anything these people served to her.  She’d learned her lesson from Lujanne’s illusory grubs - she hadn’t eaten any before the mage told her the truth but the near-miss was still strong in her mind.  She pointedly pushed the plate of pancakes away and shared her berries with Runaan, who sat beside her.  Skor and Callisto had declined to even show up for the group meal today, though she thought she caught a feeling of them watching from the trees. 

“How do you get them so light?” Ellis asked the dark mage excitedly.

“The secret is separating the eggs and beating the whites into a stiff meringue.” The mage said proudly, and Andromeda almost felt bad for distrusting her, before she added, behind a playful hand, “And just a hint of dark magic.”

Much to Andromeda’s personal joy, both princes just swallowed abruptly and pushed their plates away.  Rayla put her fork down and scowled at the mage.  Andromeda’s own lip curled but she kept her feelings to herself.  They’d allowed Corvus to join them - but this was a dark mage .  Who used her powers so casually as to make pancakes .  

Runaan cleared his throat and spoke without bothering to look up at the girl. “It’s rude not to tell people about unusual ingredients.  Other than Archmage Lujanne, the  Moonshadow among you are vegetarians.  And now you’ve fed my daughter meat.”

The mag scoffed a laugh. “Oh there’s no meat in it!  Other than the eggs, are you strict about the eggs?  Those are a normal ingredient to pancakes though-”

“Dark magic.”

“Dark magic isn’t meat,” She protested.

“But ye had to kill somethin’ to use it.” Rayla said, pushing her plate away with a wrinkle of her nose. 

“Butterflies,” The mage said as if exasperated. “It was just a couple of butterflies!”

“Oh, you mean the lunar moths that also have a social and religious significance for us?” Ram said, tone bored though his maroon eyes were flinty when Andromeda glanced at him. “Congratulations, you’ve dug your hole even deeper.  I would suggest you just stop talking about this.” 

She cleared her throat with a sour sort of look but turned to the princes with a bright smile.  Andromeda narrowed her eyes and looked to see if Runaan had noticed how quickly the girl was changing tactics.  He was looking down at their shared bowl of fruit but his ears were turned towards the mage, and she saw the furrow of his brow that supported her suspicions. 

“Soo, now that we know you’re not kidnapped, you guys should come back home!” The mage said. “With the egg of course.”

An abrupt silence overtook them and Andromeda didn’t bother to be subtle about how she whipped around to glare at the girl.  Runaan looked up as well, and Ram gripped hard at the dagger he’d been loosely fiddling with over the stone table.  Rayla narrowed her eyes and gripped her cup so hard it shook. 

The soldier, Andromeda noticed, was the only one of the siblings to react to their tension.  He stiffened in his seat and his eyes darted between them, but he didn’t move - she guessed he was correctly concluding he couldn’t actually fight them all.  Corvus was frowning too. 

“Actually, there is no egg,” Callum said, seeming to notice their tension but trying to head it off.  Andromeda appreciated the thought but she wasn’t sure she approved of the method, as Ezran hopped off the bench and went to fetch the dragonlet. 

“What?” The mage cried, shooting to her feet. “What happened to the egg?”

“Sit down,” Ram was the one who snapped it, to Andromeda’s surprise, and Runaan raised an eyebrow at the young man, who shrugged very slightly under the look. “And keep your voice and hands to yourself if you don’t feel like losing them.” he winced after saying it. “Ah, my apologies, Skor, if you heard that.”

The mage scowled at him openly. 

Callum made a peaceful gesture at both of them and Andromeda’s mouth tightened, hating the fact that a child was trying to play peacemaker between adults.  Or at least, a teenager and an adult. “Hey, everybody just calm down.  Claudia, you’ll understand in a second.”

The squeaking noise from the baby dragon made Andromeda’s whole body just ache suddenly with the need to make sure the baby was safe and happy.  She forced herself to stay in place, knowing full well that Azymondias was as happy as could be coiled around young Prince Ezran, but her rationalizations couldn’t stop her body’s reaction.  At least it was this, now, and she wasn’t being quite as plagued by the breeding season’s other desires.

Runaan stayed silent but he brushed his hand briefly over her shoulder, and she realized he must have noticed her reaction.  She took comfort in his steadiness. 

The mage gasped. “Awwww!” She bounced up from her seat again. “It’s a baby dwagon!  Hey, you!” She cooed as she approached him.

Rayla was the closest to boy and dragon, but Andromeda wasn’t far behind, and Ram and Runaan flanked them.  Rayla bodily blocked the older girl and scowled down at her. “Whoa, what happened to ‘it’s not an egg, it’s a powerful weapon’?” She demanded.

“A weapon?” Andromeda sputtered, having missed that part of the story.  It must have happened when the children were initially escaping, before they’d found Runaan with the egg. 

“Still true,” The mage said, pointedly, standing up straight. “Someday it could bring death and destruction raining down on all of us.” Leaning over where she could see the dragonlet again she cooed, “But right now it’s so little!”

Every alarm bell Andromeda had went off at how dismissive the girl was being and she slapped her hand away before it could pass her hip. “Don’t touch.” She said just as pointedly. 

“Well get a good look, because we’re goin’ back to Xadia to return him to his mother,” Rayla said firmly. 

“The elves are right,” Callum agreed from the table. “We can’t go home yet.  The mission is too important.” He got up to join them, and thankfully didn’t say anything about the slap.

The mage looked back at her brother, who just looked confused more than anything, and Andromeda narrowed her eyes.  She couldn’t see the girl’s expression but she could see her fist clenching before she turned back to Callum with that sweet smile back on her face. “What about the kingdom?  Everyone’s really worried about you.”

“Who exactly is everyone?” Corvus asked with a frown.

Callum cut the conversation off before the girl could answer. “Actually . . . speaking of everyone back home.” He fiddled with his fingers for a second and sighed. “You guys were in Katolis that night.  Do you . . .” He glanced at Ezran, and Andromeda followed his gaze to see the younger boy nod. “What happened?  To the king?  The elves were with us.  We know they didn’t . . . they didn’t do it.  But he’s gone.  Who else could have gone after him like that?  Who could have gotten past you, Soren?”

The soldier grimaced unpleasantly and pushed his plate away. “No one got past me.” He bit the words out like they hurt. “Someone came in from the balcony.  I had archers posted outside, but two of them were dead.  But still, it’s a stone tower, we had eyes everywhere, no human could have gotten in that way.  Nobody went in or out the door on the inside of the tower without my eyes on them, except my dad.”

Andromeda looked over at Ram, seeing the same awful confirmation in his face as she was feeling.  So it was almost certainly a betrayal from Lord Viren that had killed the king - and his own son either didn’t know or had suddenly become a much better liar than he had been the day before. 

“Soren found him at dawn.” Claudia said in a hushed voice. 

“The relief archers for the guards on the wall found them.” Soren’s tone was a bit brittle, and Andromeda almost felt bad for him, but she was still too suspicious to let her guard down. “So I went in to warn the king there was a breach in the defenses, and . . . it was already too late.”

Ezran tugged on Andromeda’s skirt and she looked down in surprise, and he lifted Zym up toward her.  She took the baby dragon and blinked at him, tilting her head in a silent question.  His little gray eyes were tearing up and he shook his head and just walked past her to go to Soren, climbing up on the bench beside him and giving the soldier a hug that seemed to startle the young man, who just raised his arms awkwardly at first.

“You did everything you could.” Ezran said quietly. “Thanks for . . . trying.”

Soren visibly bit his lip and closed his eyes, but he hugged Ezran back. “Yeah.  I’m . . . I’m really sorry, Ezran.” He raised his eyes to Callum with his brows furrowed in shame. “I’m sorry, Callum.”

Ezran sat back to look at him and Andromeda could tell just from the soldier’s face how piercing his shocking perceptive face was.  The boy patted the soldier’s arm. “I know.”

Hm.  So the soldier was back in Ezran’s good graces - but he still didn’t trust the mage enough to let her touch Zym.  They would have to keep that in mind - so far, the boy’s intuition had yet to be wrong.

“Without the king’s true killer found, the children are safer away from Katolis.” Runaan said firmly. 

“Plus, if we take Zym back to his mom, maybe we can stop the war,” Ezran said, a bit brighter as he looked to the future again.

“Zym’s the baby dragon, it’s short for Azymondias.” Callum added helpfully.

Claudia raised her eyebrows at Andromeda and Runaan. “And you guys were just . . . cool with that plan?  As assassins?” She asked skeptically.

“A lasting peace would benefit everyone.” Runaan said flatly. “While we are . . . somewhat skeptical, this gesture coming from the princes of Katolis would be the most powerful step towards that peace in centuries.  So yes.  We are supporting this plan.”

“And it was all thanks to Rayla,” Ezran said, smiling at the girl.  Rayla’s glower at the other two humans softened when she noticed and she smiled back at him. “And how she decided to listen to us instead of killing us!  And then she convinced the other elves to listen to us too.”

“She was literally threatening you with swords.” Claudia said flatly.

“And you threatened us with smoke wolves!” Rayla snapped back.

“Children.” Runaan cut them both off, tone a bit sharper than he’d usually use, and Andromeda almost snickered at the tiredness under his voice. “Enough.  Our plan of action is decided - all three princes will be returning to Xadia with us.  There is no debate to be had.  Your time would be better spent hunting your king’s true killer, to ensure the boys’ safety when our mission is complete and they are ready to return.”

Oh, that was clever.  Andromeda hadn’t even considered just redirecting the pair.  She’d been struggling with helplessness, unsure what to do about them depending on their behavior, which seemed wildly different yet intertwined.  That was actually an excellent idea, though.

That was why he had survived this long.

“We don’t have to go right away, though,” Callum said quickly. “We were already planning on taking another day to rest up.  You guys should too!  And then we’ll figure out your next steps from there.  But, uh, yeah, they’re, they’re right, we’re not going home yet.”

The mage deflated a bit. “All right.  We’ll talk about it more later.” She promised firmly to Callum, and Andromeda narrowed her eyes.  She’d not yet had a chance to tell Runaan about Ezran’s worries.

As soon as the mage and soldier walked away after breakfast, she handed Zym back to the boy but put a hand on his shoulder to keep him close.  Callum had wandered off as well and Ram was tailing him. “Runaan,” She stopped him too before he and Rayla could leave. “Ezran came to speak last night with some concerns about the mage . . .”

 

Callum knew he was being followed.  It was a feeling he’d somewhat gotten used to with the elves around, as they didn’t seem inclined to let him or Ezran have any privacy.  They didn’t seem all that concerned about privacy themselves, though, so he couldn’t really fault them for failing to grasp the human distance about things.  His ears still turned red thinking about the riverside baths right next to Rayla while the older elves stood guard. 

To the credit of whichever elf was following him, they weren’t making much effort to conceal it.  He could hear their footsteps on the stone and he thought he glimpsed a shadow here and there in the corner of his vision.  When he finally opted to just sit down on a bench and wait, it was Ram that materialized from the shadows to perch on the bench beside him.

“Sooo, is there a reason you’re following me?” Callum asked pointedly.  He’d wanted to try and get a little time more alone with Claudia, if he could get past Soren, but he didn’t want to do it while he was being so obviously stalked.

“But a good elf, hm?” Ram said bluntly, giving him a colder stare than he’d grown used to.

Immediately ice dropped to the pit of Callum’s stomach and he hunched his shoulders reflexively, holding up his palms defensively. “I’m sorry!  I don’t - I wasn’t thinking when I said it,” He tried, weakening as the assassin’s expression didn’t change.  No, he always did this!  This was why he never had any friends, he didn’t know how to talk to people. “I’m sorry, I just - Claudia and Soren haven’t seen so many sides of you guys, I had to say something to get them to stop and all I could think of was saying that you’re good, and it came out wrong, and -”

“Stop.” Ram cut him off, expression still chilly, and he sat back a bit to look at Callum with his head tilted. “We’re not ‘good elves’, Callum.  This whole mission is an example of that.  If we were, we would have killed your father and brother.  Every culture has its own values and we’re flouting our own by helping you with this.”

“But you’re doing it to help us save the world, which is better for everyone,” Callum argued. “So you’re good people, even though it’s not what your duty told you to do.”

Ram shrugged a little to concede the point. “So it doesn’t bother you that the rest of our people probably won’t be pleased with what we’ve done?  Are they bad, because they won’t trust you?”

Callum winced. “No.  Ram, I swear, I just didn’t - I was just trying to tell my friends that you were good people.  I didn’t mean that the rest of your people weren’t .”

“Your friends are convinced they aren’t.”

“Well, they just don’t know any better yet,” Callum reasoned. “I’m sure once they get to know you guys and realize what we’re all working for, they’ll understand and they won’t think like that anymore.”

Ram’s brows were furrowed but his expression was a little softer when he sighed and finally dropped his gaze to rub his forehead. “I hope you’re right, Callum,” He said reluctantly. “But I sincerely doubt it.”

Callum frowned at him. “You just don’t know them yet either.  But Soren and Claudia are my oldest friends - I know they’ll understand once they know more about you and your people.  I’m going to talk to Claudia now - I’m sure I can talk her around, and Soren’s easy.” He stood up with determination and nodded to Ram, who just looked distinctly nonplussed and concerned, and marched back towards the little house where Soren and Claudia had slept the night before.  He’d get all his friends on the same side by the end of the day - he was sure of it. 

 

“How’s that ankle?” Runaan asked Skor as he and Rayla joined Callisto and Skor for a bit of training before they set out again. “Back in fighting shape?”

Skor nodded. “Enough to travel.  I’ll put it through its paces practicin’ with ye.” His eyes traveled up over Runaan’s shoulder and he frowned, though, as Callisto beckoned Rayla over for their own training exercises. “Ye haven’t sent it yet.”

The shadowhawk sat heavy in Runaan’s quiver and he sighed through his nose. “No.”

“Why not?”

Runaan shook his head. “We needed time to recover.  We wouldn’t want the dragons getting . . . impatient.”

“We leave tomorrow.”

“I will send it at nightfall.” Runaan said firmly, but frowned as he looked past Skor to where Callum was just visible talking animatedly to Claudia while Ram kept an eye on them.

Skor followed his gaze. “We can’t let the mage cross the border.” he growled in a low voice despite knowing full well none of the humans were near enough to hear. 

“I know.” Runaan rolled his shoulders and shook his head. “Let the boy have some time with his friends.  I’ll discuss it with the princes tonight - and come to a decision about what to do in the morning.”

Skor grunted. “We should all be there.”

Runaan snorted. “We shall see how it works out.  I know what your opinion is already, my friend.”

“Good.” Skor stretched out his neck and backed off a little so they could both do some warmup stretches before launching into a proper bout.  They would trade partners with Callisto and Rayla shortly.

Chapter 30: Training

Summary:

The elves opt to have a bit of training to make sure they're all in good fighting shape to resume their journey. Soren joins in.

Notes:

This doesn't go as well as Rayla OR Soren hoped it would.

Runaan was stronger than her.  He always said it wouldn’t last, that she was one of the strongest people he knew, but it was still a source of incredible frustration when Rayla was training with him, because no matter what she did, she couldn’t overpower him.  That wasn’t to say she couldn’t best him - she could!  Sometimes!  But she had to rely so much on her speed, because he was just as agile.  It was best to fight him in places where his size was a hindrance and hers an advantage.

Unfortunately, the old training grounds at the Moon Nexus had little such cover, and she was fighting him mostly on open ground that left him plenty of room to move and her no particular cover.  She grit her teeth as he batted her back once again, one-armed, the flat of his blade held towards her.  She backflipped off it to land on her feet and bolted to the right, his weaker side, tried to dive under his blades to hook his legs from under him.

He was just as light on his feet as she was, though, and just jumped over her hooks.  She didn’t quite make it to her feet before his sword had threaded through the hook of her butterfly blade and yanked her back down onto her back.  She grunted with surprise and glowered up at him as he whipped that blade away and caught her other arm under his boot.  He didn’t push down too hard, just resting his foot there as a warning. 

“Rayla,” He said, not unkindly. “Stop trying to beat me.”

She knew from his expression that she completely failed to hide the burst of bitterness on her tongue from that statement, the way her scalp burned with rage and shame, and he lifted his foot from her arm to help her up. “You know I can,” She argued. “I have before!”

“Which is why you have nothing to prove here,” He reminded her with a touch of exasperation, dusting something off her shoulder. “This isn’t about winning , it’s about training , which means you should be practicing all of your skills - not just the ones you think provide you an advantage against me specifically.”

Rayla cast her eyes aside and flicked her blade into its straighter position, scowling to herself.  His warning still felt too raw, with the way he had looked at her after the human disarmed her yesterday evening. “Okay, Dad .” She regretted using it bitterly the moment it left her tongue, before she even saw him twitch and his expression go flat and guarded.

Before she could think of how to backtrack, another voice interrupted them. “Can I watch?” Ezran asked. 

“Sure,” Andromeda said with a smile for the boy as they approached the training yard.  Soren was with them too and she scowled at the sight of the young man. 

Runaan cleared his throat. “And what brings you along?” He asked Soren, unamused.  Rayla stared guiltily at his profile, unable to see past his cool mask - she’d hurt him, though.  This . . . acceptance of their relationship was so fragile and new, and she’d just raked claws right through it - it was enough to make her own heart bleed, too.  He couldn’t be feeling much better about it.

“Just, you know, hanging out with my little buddy Ezran,” Soren said with his shoulders awkwardly stiff, shrugging. “Figured I could get some training in too, if that’s what you’re doing.” He grinned smugly at Rayla, gray eyes cold and narrow. “Maybe this time it’ll even be a challenge.”

Rayla bristled, feeling the hair on the back of her neck rise with resentment as she bared her fangs at him. “I could go for a rematch,” She sneered, “See how well ye do without a mage’s help.”

“Hey, at least I didn’t have to have my dad come to my rescue.” He taunted, and her back went ramrod straight. 

“How did ye even know -” she squawked.

“Literally heard you.  Like five seconds ago.” Soren raised his scarred eyebrow at her. “I know General Amaya’s deaf but that’s not a requirement for a command position.” He grinned so broadly afterwards that she hated it, but it was clearly meant as a joke, as it had Ezran giggling madly.  She even heard one of the other elves give a snort, though she couldn’t tell who it was when she turned to glare at them.

Her guess was Callisto.

Runaan cleared his throat and sighed. “Fine.  If you two want to have it out again, you do so with challenge rules - no killing, no maiming, no lasting injuries.  I don’t want to be giving anyone stitches.  If this draws on too long, one of us will call it and you accept it as a draw.  Understood?” He was still glaring directly at Soren instead of at her.

Rayla shifted her grip on her butterfly blade, hating how he wouldn’t look at her anymore, but resolutely turned her back to fetch her other one. 

“If I’m just fighting with one sword, shouldn’t she -?”

“Not if you’re training.  If you’d like to challenge her to a proper duel, you’re welcome to try.” Rayla whipped around in time to see Runaan take a few steps closer so he was staring down his nose at the much shorter human. “I wouldn’t recommend it, given she has reinforcements this time . . . and you don’t.”

Not because she could actually beat him.  Rayla scowled to herself and picked her blade up without waiting to hear Soren’s reply.  

Runaan had backed off by the time she composed herself and turned around, though he hadn’t taken up his own training position with one of the others - he and Andromeda both stood to the side with Ezran watching as Callisto and Skor faced off again.  Rayla took her own place across from Soren unable to hide her displeasure, and he rolled his shoulders and grinned, cocky, as he faced her. 

Though they hadn’t discussed it they both waited on a countdown from Runaan rather than just starting as the other assassins did off to her right.  The second he said “Go” she was in motion, charging forward in step with Skor.

They both leaped at the same time.  Rayla brandished her swords in front of her to block any attack from Soren, just the way he had taught her.  A moment of exhilaration flooded her blood at the perfect mirror.

Callisto dodged.

Soren bounced her off his broadsword and she was forced to retreat, circling him more warily as the parallels were broken.  Skor kept pressing his advantage, kept pushing Callisto back where he wanted them, and Rayla was reduced to darting in and out, repelled each time, feeling like a pest more than an opponent. 

She bared her fangs at him when her blades got hooked around his for a moment, her feet braced on his arms.  Skor’s voice almost startled her, calling out a comment from the side. “Kick him, Rayla!”

She could , but it would shake her balance, could she risk - it was too late, Soren had already thrown her back, and her momentary distraction had her falling on her hip instead of her heels.  She rolled back to her feet and kept moving. 

Runaan was circling the field now, she realized as she darted past him, analyzing them both.

“Is that as fast as you can go?” Andromeda heckled, and Rayla grit her teeth for a moment before she realized her friend was talking to Soren. “I’m surprised you can even see her.”

Rayla shut out the commentary and dove for Soren again while he was distracted, and this time she managed to get her blade hooked around his armored wrist.  Luckily, since he was wearing plate, she could actually just yank on it without fear of hurting him in a lasting manner, forcing him to drop his broadsword.

She only had a moment to savor this victory before a heavy plated fist slammed into her chest and knocked her away, and she lost her grip on the butterfly blade around his arm as he yanked it close to his chest.  They both stumbled and she bared her fangs as his sword clattered to the stone between them, but he quickly spun her second blade into his hand, eyeing it critically.  He wouldn’t know how to work it, at least, maybe he would be stupid and try to flip it and get startled like the soldiers at the Banther Lodge had done.

Her heart sank when he hit the right catch and the blade just shifted into its straighter blade form and locked there, and he grinned. “Cool!  I totally need one of these, do you know how hard it is to get a longsword to hang on your hip right?”

“Do ye always talk this much when you’re fightin’?” She demanded in exasperation, and flew at him again.

Though he was clearly inexperienced with smaller, lighter blades, and she kept him on a backstep, she never quite got past Soren’s defenses.  He shrugged when they blade locked again, before leaning forward to put his considerable weight above her. “Only when I’m not working hard enough.”

She stomped on his foot in sheer rage.  Her heel found the seam of his greaves and caused him to howl with pain, stumbling back from the blade lock and allowing her a brief upper hand.  She nearly, nearly had him knocked on his arse with how he was stumbling backwards when he managed to throw himself forward instead and collided with her.  Once again she found herself thrown over his shoulder and moving forward.

Unlike last time, though, she didn’t have quite all her wind knocked out, and he didn’t have a mage as backup.  She kneed him in the chest and kicked at his crotch - both were armored but the impact of the plate against his stomach at least jolted him enough to drop her.  She rolled away as he stumbled to catch his breath.

“Enough.” Runaan snapped out and she froze, eyes wary on Soren to make sure he was going to listen.

To her surprise, the soldier straightened up first, glancing at Runaan and rolling his shoulders, loosening his posture up.

“Rayla, good footwork,” Runaan’s tone was still cool and professional and she found her heart burning at the loss of his open fondness. “But what did I just tell you about practicing all of your skills, not just the ones you find most advantageous?  Stop relying entirely on speed and agility.  Those last few blade locks were good, practice that more.  Soren - you could improve your footwork.  Dramatically.  You have a longsword , she shouldn’t be getting that close to you.  Either be lighter on your feet or have a stronger stance and stop moving so much.  You can switch between but trying to compromise only makes you weaker at both.” He gathered Soren’s sword up as he talked and tossed it back to the human as he finished.

Soren caught it and glanced down at Rayla’s butterfly blade and back up at her.  She could almost see the calculations running in his gray eyes, but she couldn’t read his expression when he walked over to hand it to her more politely.  She took it stiffly, stepping back as soon as she had it.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good match?” He said.

“I want a rematch.” She said with a scowl. “Longer, this time.”

“No.” Runaan said flatly, and when she whirled on him to argue, his eyes were on Soren. “His next is with me.” He slid his gaze over to her and ordered, “Try a round with Ram.”

She blinked with surprise and looked around in time to see Ram stretching as he settled in place, and Andromeda vanishing into the trees to go keep an eye on Callum.  He was even faster than she was and just as agile - pairing off against him would force her to use the skills Runaan had told her she was neglecting.  Her shoulders dropped, already anticipating being laid out on her back again. “Fine.” She grumbled.

“You don’t have to sound so enthused about it,” Ram drawled.

“I haven’t won a single match today,” She grumbled back at him once she thought Soren wasn’t listening anymore.

“Well, that’s not really the point of training, is it?” Ram pointed out, but raised an eyebrow at her. “I also have a feeling that’s about to change.  We both know you’re stronger than I am.  And if there’s anywhere non-mages could work moon magic?  It’s here.  Which we all keep telling you.  You would be very powerful with.”

Rayla set her jaw. “I don’t want it t’be easy.  I’ll be powerful on my own.”

Ram shrugged. “All right.  Are we facing off or are we just watching our daunting leader flay this poor boy first?”

Rayla raised her own eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you two the same age?”

“ Corvus and I are the same age,” Ram huffed. “Soren is two years younger than we are.  Which still makes him older than you, though, so I understand the confusion.  All these numbers seem so much bigger when you’re fifteen.”

She punched him in the arm and he yelped, chuckling as he danced out of her reach. “Let’s just face off.” She huffed, trying not to snicker back, though she grudgingly admitted to herself it was a little funny.

 

Corvus had run a bout with Andromeda while Rayla and Soren went at it, and found the woman shockingly strong.  His chains didn’t do much to aid him when she just hooked her blades through them and yanked, throwing him off his balance.  It was more of a tug of war than an actual bout at that point.  He’d had to resort to moving at short range, and she was much faster than he was there.

He found himself grateful she wasn’t flirting with him anymore.  He still found himself flustered at inopportune times just thinking about it and was quite certain she’d have had him flat on his face in a moment if she’d done it again while they were fighting.  Luckily, she didn’t subject him to that kind of humiliation, though he wasn’t certain being thrown around by a woman that barely came up to his shoulder was any better. 

After she bowed out, though, she was replaced by Ram, who took up a fight with Rayla instead, and Corvus retreated to the sidelines to get some water and take a breather.  There were three matches going on now, one with Ram and Rayla that was almost too fast for him to even see, one clash of sheer size and muscle that made him cringe just to look at between Runaan and Soren, and then there was Callisto and Skor.

This was the one he was closest to, and the one he chose to watch with the most interest.  He had already gathered that they were a couple, though oddly enough no one else seemed to acknowledge it, and Ram and Andromeda were sleeping in the same room now too though he was quite sure they’d said Andromeda was married and Ram was single - anyway.  It didn’t matter.

Skor was pushing Callisto through their paces, though their arm was still in a splint and bound to their side with a sling.  They were fending him off with only their right arm and half their glaive, and seemed to be holding their own . . . in place, at least, from what Corvus could see.  They couldn’t seem to gain ground against him, though, with their balance compromised and only one hand when they were used to working with two.

He wasn’t sure what signal passed between them to call the match, only that he blinked and suddenly they were both relaxing.  Callisto had fallen, but they had both done that and rolled right back to their feet before.  This time, though, they just waited where they were, and if he squinted, he thought he could see them panting a bit as Skor sheathed his swords and walked over.

The older elf helped them up and his ears tilted with what Corvus could only guess was concern. “Ye need to learn a one-handed weapon.” He said flatly. “You’re crippled without both.”

Callisto rolled their eyes and huffed. “It’s not like we usually have t’ keep workin’ after injuries.” They pointed out. “This is a special case.”

“So was this.” Skor tapped his throat meaningfully and they deflated a bit. “Find a one-hander.  This isn’t enough.” He tapped the half of their glaive they were using meaningfully. 

Callisto sighed and folded the blade in, storing the staff against their back again. “Point taken.” They said reluctantly. “How’s your ankle?  Still good?”

“Good as new.  Your arm?” Skor was touching their elbow beside the sling already as if checking it, and Corvus tried not to stare too obviously, noting the visible fondness in the way he touched them. 

“Good as can be expected.” Callisto huffed. “As you know , bein’ the one who splinted it, and made me the sling.”

Corvus thought he caught a glimpse of a smile under Skor’s falling hair as the taller elf crowded his partner toward the benches and made them sit down. “Good.” he said simply and ruffled their short hair, a single finger drawing down the length of one of their horns.  They shook their head at him, raising an eyebrow, and he just shrugged.

Oh, that was - Corvus very deliberately looked away from the obvious flirtation to Runaan and Soren’s clash, which had become somehow more violent since he looked away.  A shred of Soren’s tabard lay on the ground between their feet and in the moment Corvus looked, his longsword threaded past Runaan’s shorter dual blades and left a bloody mark on the tall elf’s cheek.

Almost as quick as a blink, Runaan rushed Soren and with an ankle hooked around the younger man’s knee he drove them both crashing to the ground.  Corvus winced hearing the plate rattle and seeing the boy’s head hit the flagstones.  Runaan’s swords were crossed above Soren’s throat and the Crownguard let his own sword clatter to the ground loudly. 

“I warned you,” Runaan said, pitilessly chilly, “To watch your footwork.”

Soren visibly swallowed and Corvus realized nobody was moving, all of them locked in tense observation of this conclusion.  Slowly, the young soldier nodded, careful not to jostle the sabers held over his throat. “Lesson learned.”

“Perhaps.  Try using it next time.” Runaan said carelessly, abruptly standing up and folding his blades back into a bow that he slung over his shoulder.  Corvus blinked, squinting at it, as the string seemed to have just shimmered into existence when he folded it together.  Maybe it did, with the same sort of magic as Ava’s collar?

Soren lay where he was for a moment and sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head and shaking it.  Ezran ran over to him, scurrying quickly out of reach of Ram and Rayla, and attempted to help him up.  Corvus was very abruptly reminded of his own older brother when Soren accepted the hand and at least pretended to let Soren help, even though the boy was too short still to be of any real assistance.

It was obvious that Soren was a brother, and a caring one.  Corvus wondered how well that went over with the far colder attitudes of his father and sister.

“Zym’s getting kind of scared over here,” Ezran confessed to the older boy. “I was gonna take him and go find Ava and Ellis to play.  Maybe you should come too?  That looked like it hurt.”

Soren paused, though Corvus couldn’t see his expression with the Crownsguard’s back turned to him, and then sighed, still rubbing his head. “It did,” He admitted. “That sounds great, Ezran.  Let’s get out of here.”

Mind made up, Corvus stood up and grabbed the shredded piece of Soren’s tabard, calling out as he followed them. “Hey, Soren.  Do you want this back?” 

The boy glanced over his shoulder to look and wrinkled his nose. “I guess.” He accepted it when Corvus handed it back. “I don’t have any thread with me.  I guess I can get Claudia to fix it, she’s probably got something in her bags.  I just hope it’s normal thread.”

“What else would it be?” Corvus asked skeptically.

Soren shuddered. “You don’t wanna know.”

Corvus opened his mouth to argue before considering the boy’s sister was a dark mage.  Maybe he was right.  He closed his mouth again and accepted it, just following them.  As kind as Soren appeared to be here and there, he still couldn’t shake his suspicions about Viren’s children, especially after Soren had been the one to try and lie to them first.

A few rustles in the brush and trees made him fairly certain the elves had come to the same suspicious conclusion, and were following them.  He took comfort in knowing that no matter what Soren tried next, he wouldn’t be alone to deal with it.

Notes:

Corvus thinks he has Skor and Callisto figured out. This is gonna turn into a meme. "We're officially a couple." "Then what the hell were you doing before that?"

Chapter 31: Realizations is the title in my document but pretend it's something more poetic

Summary:

Claudia, Callum, Lujanne, and Andromeda have a little incident near the temple. Meanwhile, Ezran and Soren play a game - and Corvus and the elves aren't too pleased about how it looks.

Andromeda was trying not to be too conspicuous, but hover near to where Callum was showing Claudia around.  Something rankled under her skin at the dark mage being shown the most sacred places of ancient Moonshadow society, witnessing more of their history than most living elves would ever see, but she didn’t stop them.  What was there to stop?  Nothing functioned anymore.  It was all just a ruin.

It was up to the Guardian to make a judgment on that, and she had failed to prevent the dark mage from making it to the Nexus.  She certainly didn’t seem as concerned about it as Andromeda would have expected.  She caught herself halfway to pouting at the older woman’s back as Lujanne finished cleaning up one of the broken, cleared rooms.  She was perched on the wall outside where she could reasonably be assumed to be spending time casually with Lujanne rather than stalking the human teenagers as they mounted the stairs towards the old temple grounds.

“Still keeping a close eye on the children, I take it?” Lujanne asked knowingly as she exited the room with her usual grace. 

Andromeda sighed through her nose and nodded. “Why did you let them get up here?” She asked, eyes still fixed on the two dark figures coming up the lower flights of stairs.

Lujanne shook her head. “Protecting this place is a delicate balance.  I must frighten them away, but to kill them would be to incite more of them to follow.  It is rare that my illusions fail to drive them away.” She frowned down at the ground. “I daresay I may have met my match in the young mage.”

Andromeda grimaced, conceding this answer.  She had been equally frightened by the illusions before Callisto realized they were fake, after all.  A mage, young and overconfident and full of herself, who was convinced she could handle anything, would certainly be able to come up with something to get past illusions. 

She had never appreciated before just how precarious the Guardian’s position must be, and she hopped down from the wall to give Lujanne a respectful little bow, her hands forming a closed circle before her chest in the familiar old sign.  Lujanne returned it with a weary smile.

They began to descend the stairs together, and there was an abrupt hitch in Lujanne’s step when she noticed the teenagers so close.  Andromeda could practically see her back stiffen even beneath her cape. 

“Oh, uh,” Callum said, hands spreading out to the sides, as if nervous, but he was smiling. “Claudia, this is Lujanne.  She’s a Moon Mage - an illusionist.”

Andromeda stiffened and her hands went to her scythes when Claudia rushed the older mage, brightly exclaiming, “Wow!  Are you an illusion yourself?”

“Well, no,” Lujanne said, but didn’t get a chance to continue. “I’m -”

Claudia was grabbing at the older woman’s face, hard enough that Lujanne leaned backwards, ears flattening with displeasure.  She pinched and squeezed at the loose flesh. “But you feel so real!”

“I am real,” Lujanne growled with a trace of irritation, her hands braced between herself and the mage, and Andromeda realized she wasn’t going to physically defend herself.

So she took it upon herself to do it for her, stepping abruptly between them and pushing Claudia back.  While she guessed they would be about the same height ordinarily, the girl’s heels forced Andromeda to look up an inch or two to meet her eyes from this proximity. “She said she’s real ,” She said pointedly. 

“Huh, that’s exactly what an illusion would say.” Claudia’s eyes widened and she gasped theatrically. “Or, no wait!  If she’s real, that means you’re the illusion!” She grabbed for Andromeda’s braid and face. 

Her hands were unpleasantly cold and smelled of death, and Andromeda recoiled from it, snarling with the grip on her hair tugged it.  She flipped her scythe up between them as she freed herself and snapped, “Touch me again and you’ll get a graphic demonstration of just how ‘illusory’ this is,” She warned, brandishing the weapon. “We are both real people.  Even if we weren’t, you didn’t even wait for us to answer before grabbing a’ us!  Who taught you it was all right to touch people without permission?”

Callum’s smile had rapidly faded and he braced his hands out as if to soothe the elves, but Claudia responded with a roll of her eyes and a careless laugh. “Oh, come on.  How was I supposed to know?  Almost everything on this mountain’s an illusion.  I bet these walls aren’t even real.”

“You wait for an answer,” Andromeda said through gritted teeth, and Lujanne gripped her cape in her hands to sidestep around them, keeping her eyes on Claudia.  She glanced briefly back at Andromeda, and Andromeda nodded; she could go, get away from this violation and perhaps tell the others.

She had a feeling backup wouldn’t be a bad idea here.

Callum seemed to be fighting with himself a bit, and he shrank a little as he looked up at Claudia, putting out his hands as if to soothe her. “Andromeda’s right,” He said hesitantly. “Maybe next time really wait for permission first, they did say that they’re real - and you probably just didn’t hear, I know you get really focused on things and that’s okay!  Just try to listen more, okay?  They’re our friends now too.”

Claudia huffed in disbelief and rolled her eyes, smiling sweetly at Callum. “Callum, they’re Moonshadow elves .  Lying is kind of their whole thing!  Illusions, deception - they make things up all the time.  You can’t really just trust whatever they say without question.”

“You shouldn’t trust anyone without question,” Andromeda snapped, burning with righteous fury. “But lying and understanding how the truth may differ from a new perspective are worlds apart!”

“I do trust them,” Callum said more firmly, frowning at Claudia. “And they’re not lying!  That’s not what they do, especially not Andromeda.”

Claudia frowned too. “So you trust these elves more than your best friend?” She wheedled.

Andromeda bristled, recognizing the manipulation for what it was. 

To her surprise, Callum did too, gesturing at her. “She’s right there , Claudia.  You can’t talk about people like that.  It’s mean!”

The young mage’s light demeanor cracked for a moment and her fists clenched before she relaxed pointedly and sighed as if put upon. “Okay.  So let’s go have a talk by ourselves for a little while, like we planned.  We’ll set all this aside, and you can just keep showing me around all the magical places here.”

Callum shook his head slowly, taking a step back and glancing between them, biting his lip and his brows furrowing almost apologetically at Andromeda. “I . . . No.  I’m - I’m sorry, Claudia.  This place isn’t mine to show anyway, and - if this is how you’re going to treat the elves I don’t really feel comfortable showing you their sacred places.”

“Callum!” The witch cried, dismayed, as Callum continued to back up, eyes visibly welling up at the betrayal.

“I’m sorry, Claudia.  I just - I can’t.” Callum shook his head quickly and turned and ran back down the stairs.

The witch started after him and Andromeda hooked her scythe around the girl’s wrist on reflex. “You and I are going to have a little chat about boundaries,” She growled when the witch whirled on her. “And why when a boy tells you no, it means no , and you should leave him alone.”

Claudia’s sweet facade faded into a nasty sneer. “I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say.” She huffed arrogantly and pushed Andromeda’s scythe away, reaching in her bag.  Andromeda braced herself for a magical attack, but the girl just crushed something in her hand - a beetle, it looked like - and a barrier shimmered into existence around her so she stomped off.

Andromeda had a feeling her scythes wouldn’t pierce the barrier if she tried, so she didn’t.  Fighting with a mage alone, without magic, could be a foolish decision, even if the Nexus was a place of power.  She would have to use lethal force, and despite what had just happened, she doubted Callum would be alright with that.  

Somehow they had to escape the Nexus without this girl.  Hopefully this conversation would convince Callum of the necessity.  As for the method . . . Andromeda hoped someone else had an idea, because she wasn’t sure how to escape without putting Lujanne at grave risk. 

 

When Soren had suggested the game, Ezran had to admit he’d been a little nervous about it.  Even watching the young man build the seat and rope it all together, he wondered how safe it really was.  But Soren seemed so confident, and between him and Corvus, the ropes seemed to be pretty secure . . . 

“So you just . . . zip across this line?” He asked hesitantly.

“Exactly,” Soren said confidently. “I call it the slidey-sling go-fast rope!”

“That is a good name,” Ezran admitted, but glanced back at the singular peg holding the rope secure as he heard it creak.  Zym trilled excitedly in his arms, and he got the sense the young dragon had no reservations at all, but he knew no one else could feel it like he could, so he covered his own nervousness with an excuse. “Are you sure it’s going to hold?  Zym is nervous.”

Soren’s eyes were a little distant, without their usual warmth, but he smiled the same arrogant way that he always did when he replied, “I’ll show you!  It’s fine!”

Corvus opened his mouth as if to object but didn’t get the time before Soren ran over and jumped up onto the rope, holding himself up by his sword and scabbard and zipping down the rope.  Ezran watched with wide eyes, but his friend landed without incident at the bottom, whooping with exhilaration, and he brightened.  This could actually work!  If it held Soren’s weight it would certainly hold him and the dragonling.

“Okay Zym, this is your chance to see what flying feels like!” He jumped off the rock he’d been anchored on and began sliding down the rope.  He couldn’t help whooping with his own excitement as the rush of the air nearly stole his breath away.

Soren caught them at the end and didn’t let them crash into the tree, and he grinned up at his friend briefly before laughing at Zym. “Zym!  You didn’t open your wings!  That was the whole point!”

“You could go again,” Soren offered. “And this time, you can go first.”

Ezran grinned back. “Sure!  Let’s go!”

Soren untied the chair he’d been hanging from to carry it back by hand, since they hadn’t had enough rope to make a pulley system, and Ezran just carried Zym.  Corvus was waiting at the top when they returned, eyeing the rope with distrust.  

“Actually,” Soren said once they arrived. “Since Corvus is here, what do you say to letting him have the first turn this time?”

“No thanks.” Corvus answered quickly, frowning.

“Aw, come on,” Soren teased. “You’re not scared, are you?  It was sturdy enough for me and Ezran to go down.  You think you weigh more than all this?” He gestured at himself theatrically, and Ezran giggled.  All that armor really was heavy.

Corvus frowned deeper. “Nothing’s infallible.  I’m just more comfortable with my feet on the ground.”

Ezran gave him a skeptical look. “But you spend so much time hanging out in the trees.  This is just a really fast way to get between trees!  And it’s fun!  You should definitely try it!”

At his urging and to his delight, Corvus actually seemed to consider it.  His dark eyes flicked past them into the trees and the stubbornness went out of his shoulders, and he dropped them with a sigh. “Would you really like that, your highness?” He asked reluctantly.

“Please just say Ezran,” Ezran said, a little startled by the title still after Callisto had gotten the other elves to stop using it. “And yeah!  You should have some fun too before we have to leave.”

Corvus sighed again through his nose and narrowed his eyes at Soren, but he nodded. “Okay.”

Soren held up the chair with a smirk. “Do you need the baby chair?”

Corvus gave the younger man a very deadpan expression and pulled out his chain, tossing it over the rope and carefully hopping off the edge onto that.  Ezran grinned as he saw the man slide successfully down the full length of the rope and land with his feet on the trunk of the tree at the other end before hopping down. 

Soren tied the chair up to the rope again and bowed as he invited Ezran onto it. “After you, Ez!”

Ezran had to put Zym down to climb up into the seat, and Soren helped the dragonlet into his arms.  After he had the little dragon safely attached again he jumped without hesitation.  He looked over his shoulder just in time to see one of the elves - Rayla - drop out of the trees around Soren, and he frowned, suddenly afraid of what that meant. 

At least Corvus was at the bottom to soften their landing, and help them run back up to find out.  Ezran didn’t even scold Zym this time for not opening his wings.  He had a bad feeling about whatever had happened behind him. 

 

Rayla burned with anger when she saw Soren’s bright expression flatten after Ezran jumped down.  The moment he moved towards the peg she jumped down from the tree between him and it, frowning, and challenged, “What ya thinkin’ about?”

The soldier did a full double take, recoiling from her with his mouth falling open in surprise, and stammered, “N-nothing!” He quickly recovered himself with a hand on his hip and another on his hair, and smirked at her in a way she suspected he thought was charming. “What you thinkin’ about?”

She frowned deeper and glanced at the straining peg, twirling one of her butterfly blades. “I’m thinkin’ . . .” She turned it around on him, smiling sweetly and poking him gently in the armored chest with the curved part of her blade. “You should go next.” She let the smile fall as his smirk faded to concern. 

He glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the rope.

“Go ahead,” She invited magnanimously, hyperaware of the other elves watching from the shadows around them - other than Andromeda, who was mercifully away watching over Callum. “Unless . . .” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with a single finger, her eyes wide and innocent. “You think it’s not safe for some reason.” She narrowed her eyes again when she met his gaze.

Soren scoffed unconvincingly, stepping around her. “No!  It’s perfectly safe.” He edged over towards the peg.  By now Ezran was luckily down on the ground. “Let me just . . . double check this . . . peg.” He said lamely and went to examine the peg. 

Rayla wrinkled her nose and glowered at him as she watched him do it.  He used his sword in its scabbard to bang it further into the tree.  Ram materialized from the shadows and didn’t say a word.  She was briefly afraid he would undermine her but he looked to her as if for direction instead, and she felt irrationally grateful as she nodded firmly and he just stared at Soren critically alongside her. 

The soldier seemed even more tense under both of their gazes but he huffed anyway as he finally backed away from the peg. “Oh yeah, safe.  So safe.” He scoffed, and walked over to the ledge.  He put his scabbard above it and jumped, looking back over his shoulder as if nervous.

Rayla felt like reinforcing that nervousness, because she didn’t like anything about this little ‘game’ of his.  She reached up with her blade and plucked the rope, gently, not enough to cut it but enough to make it shake.  If he wanted to avoid falling, he’d just need a good grip, so she did it slowly, gave him time to see what she was about to do.

She felt the presences of the other elves melt from the shadows to join her, too, and somehow it felt immensely powerful to have them all just appear at her heels after she threatened him.  Skor and Runaan just stood at her flanks and Ram and Callisto crouched beside them, all staring after the soldier pointedly.

He wouldn’t be stupid enough to try something like this again, now that he knew they were watching.  She was confident of that.  Soren was many things, but if she had learned anything from their fights, it was that stupid wasn’t one of them.

“Guys?” Ezran asked in a small voice from beside them. “What’s going on?”

Rayla automatically looked to Runaan, because she didn’t know how to tell her young friend ‘hey your other friend probably just tried to kill you’.  She didn’t even really understand why Soren would have done it.  It just all seemed too coincidental.

“Just making sure you’re safe,” Ram volunteered.

Runaan pursed his lips. “This game isn’t safe.” He said flatly. “There are safer places to construct this sort of slide.  If you wish to continue playing it, it won’t be here, off a cliff and over the gorge.”

Ezran winced. “Okay.”

Corvus, in contrast, looked relieved. “I’ll help move it.” He promised the boy. “There’s a few clearer slopes by the temple we could use, where it won’t be nearly as far to fall if anything goes wrong.”

“Better,” Callisto agreed, still crouching.

Rayla bit her tongue and wondered if they were going to admit to Ezran what they’d really just seen - what Soren had just risked.  And if he would believe them if they said it.  Would it help anything for him to know how badly his friend had betrayed him, or would it just hurt him more?  Would Callum accept it?

She kept silent for now, just letting Corvus and Callisto enforce making Soren move their little game nearer the open grounds of the temple where they were closer to soft grass.  They couldn’t let the soldier come with them to Xadia.  The princes would be in far too much danger.  She pouted by the wall, just watching the ‘play’ with a scowl, wondering why Soren would have gone after Ezran at all.

Chapter 32: Last Try

Summary:

Callisto has a talk with Callum. Callum takes that and makes a last-ditch effort to change Claudia's mind. Meanwhile, Ram fishes for information from Soren and is horrified at what he finds.

Callisto sitting down beside him was unwelcome.  Callum pouted at the elf. “I’d rather be alone right now.” He said pointedly.

“Tough,” They replied unrepentantly, rolling their neck atop slender shoulders and raising an inky black brow at him as they eyed him lazily, reminding him of nothing more than a large wary cat. “Andromeda says ye had a rough day.”

Callum frowned deeper. “What did she say?” He asked warily.

Callisto shrugged. “Not much other than that.  Somethin’ to do with Claudia, I would venture to guess, since everyone else was together for most of the day.”

Hugging his knees to his chest, Callum frowned down at the ground again. “Claudia was . . . mean to her,” He said reluctantly. “And to Lujanne.  She was really rude, just because they were elves, and I didn’t even argue with her.  I mean, I told her she was wrong, but then I just left.”

Callisto tilted their head and replied evenly. “Sometimes that’s the best thing you can do, Callum.  Some people . . . don’t want to listen.  They’re comfortable with their hatred.”

Callum flinched at the description of Claudia as someone comfortable with hatred . “Claudia’s not like that,” He insisted. “She’s always been sweet, and kind, and I know she does bad things sometimes, but it’s always for a good reason.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself even to his own ears.

Silence reigned for a moment and he looked over at Callisto curiously, finding the elf just watching him with an odd look in their burnt orange eyes. “Are you sure?” They asked softly. “Or are ye just looking at her with moonlight in your eyes because you’ve got affection for her?”

The accusation stung and Callum bridled at it. “You just -” he bit his tongue before continuing don’t understand because you don’t have any friends , hating how close to the surface the cutting remark had been.  It was too cruel.  Callisto arched a brow at him. 

“Listen, Callum . . . sometimes friends just . . .” Callisto trailed off for a moment, before sighing. “Sometimes someone you consider a friend turns out to be different than you thought, and you have to choose between that friendship and something else - your other relationships, or even your values.  Some friends aren’t worth fighting for.”

That had Callum’s back going ramrod straight and determination taking over as he frowned deeply at the elf. “No.  Friends are worth fighting for, no matter what.  I’m going to go talk to her again.  I have to try to get through to her one more time.”

Callisto surveyed him with cool orange eyes when he stood up.  They didn’t make a move to stop him, but they shook their head with a slow sigh. “Don’t go alone,” They advised. “And . . . just, be prepared to be disappointed, Callum.”

“I won’t be.” Callum said firmly and turned back towards the temple where he’d left Claudia and Andromeda earlier, hoping she would still be there.

 

He didn’t think any of the elves had followed him.  If they had, they weren’t close enough for him to notice or hear, so he hoped that was enough as he entered the moth house in the temple and found Claudia there. “Claudia!”

She turned to look at him with surprise and frowned. “Oh, Callum.” She wiped something on her hands discreetly off on her robes and tried to smile. “Gotten over that little spat from earlier?” She teased.

Callum took a deep breath and smiled back. “Sort of.  I’m sorry for running off like that.  I just really needed some time to think.”

“Well, I’m glad you thought to come back and see me.” She beamed, and twirled in place, walking over to the wall of runes.  Ram had said they were ancient writing - but refused to translate them, saying it was sacred texts and such words had power he wasn’t in any position to unlock. “All these runes are probably incredible spells.” She enthused.

Callum winced. “Maybe,” He said hesitantly, highly aware of how secretive the Moonshadow were about such things, and how disrespectful she had been about their culture before. “It’s just too bad humans can’t do magic without a primal stone.”

“What?” Claudia turned to look at him in bafflement, one of her brows furrowing deeply as the other raised.  She laughed at him. “Yeah we can!”

“No, I meant primal magic,” Callum specified, already kicking himself for taking this direction with the talk. “Not, you know, your kind of magic.”

Claudia stiffened and her face went a little more distant, and she postured her shoulders haughtily to stare down her nose at him. “Oh?” She prompted. “My kind of magic?”

In too deep now. “Dark magic.” Callum whispered, hiding his mouth with his hands, well aware the elves could be lurking anywhere around them.

Claudia scowled down at him and then leaned down to get close to his face, holding her hands up mockingly but not quite actually hiding her face.  She sounded as if she were speaking through her teeth when she replied, just as quietly, “Do you always whisper when you’re being judgmental?”

“Sorry,” Callum said reflexively, and winced, backing up. “I didn’t mean it that way, I just . . . I loved learning magic and I feel sad now that I can’t.”

“But you can,” Claudia said, uncomprehending. “If you want to,” She specified as he looked back at her, presenting him with her dark magic spellbook.

Callum hesitated, his mind echoing with the way Runaan spoke of dark magic as a poison that crept into the hearts and minds of those who used it, the way Ram hinted at dark magic feeding some deeper evil, the way Skor’s jaw tightened and his eyes went flinty at the barest mention of it, how all the elves recoiled from it as a concept.  How could he make Claudia understand how much it affected them, how wrong it was, when he didn’t even fully understand it all?

Would she even care?

Maybe magic wasn’t the way to get her to see the truth.

“I wanna learn Primal Magic,” He said instead of trying to explain. “But you have to be born with that kind of magic inside you.”

She gasped excitedly and nearly bounced in place. “That’s the great thing about Dark Magic,” she insisted. “You just take creatures that do have that magic born inside and -” she squeezed her book enthusiastically with a slightly manic grin, as one of the moths fluttered around her - “Squeeze it out of them!” The moth landed on her shoulder and she looked down at it and just beamed, rubbing her face against its soft wings. 

How could she talk about killing something and then be so affectionate with it in the same breath?  Callum couldn’t stop his own recoil, wondering if this was how he felt how much worse must the elves feel.  Before he could formulate a response, Claudia’s face went offended again.

She scoffed frustratedly and put her hands on her hips, disturbing the moth, which flew away as she accused, “Wha - You’re doing it again, Prince Judgy Face !  Look, here’s how I think about it,” She said, holding her hand up and inviting the moth to land on her - he worried violently about its wellbeing as she talked. “Humans weren’t born with magic.  We were born with nothing .  But we still found a way to do amazing things.  That’s what Dark Magic is really all about.”

Callum looked from her to the moth, wondering what she would do if he reacted too poorly, and bit his lip. “I’m sorry.  It’s just not for me,” He said diplomatically, and breathed a sigh of relief when she shrugged and let it go.  He took another deep breath and opted to try one more time, changing tactics to Aunt Amaya’s bluntness, tempered with Gren’s diplomatic tone adjustment. “Actually, I really wanted to talk to you about  . . . earlier.  And the elves in general.”

Claudia raised an eyebrow at him and kicked out her hip, folding her arms, skeptically. “Okay.” She dragged it out. “How come?”

“They’re friends.” He said firmly. “And even if they weren’t, they’re still people who deserve respect, Claudia.”

Claudia’s neutral expression melted into anger again. “What kind of respect could they possibly deserve?” She demanded. “Callum, I know you think you came here willingly, but Moonshadow elves are masters of illusion.  I don’t even know if you saw what really happened earlier!  Or even right now!  They could be completely lying to you.  You and Ezran belong at home, in Katolis, where it’s safe.  Plus, we can’t let Xadia have that baby dragon back.”

“We can’t let a baby go back to his mom?” Callum challenged, ice sinking into the pit of his stomach as his heart burned. “And Katolis isn’t safe, the elves were with us when the king -” He choked on it. “When my stepdad died, we could see all of them!  Whoever killed him did it from the inside, so there’s no way Ezran is safe there until we know the truth.  You and Soren could go home and hunt them down for us, that would be really helpful!  But he and I have to get Zym home to his mom if we want to make peace with Xadia.” 

Claudia scoffed again. “Xadia’s never going to go for a peace,” She said in exasperation. “The more leverage we have on them, the better - which means we need the dragon to stay here.  Besides, he’s adorable!  Why would we want to give him up?” She asked brightly.

A wave of disgust so strong it made him nauseous rolled through Callum’s stomach. “But what about his mom?” He demanded, thinking about his own mother, the way he had missed her, the way her death still ached down to his core. “She’s going to miss him, she’ll be angry that we have him.  Isn’t it worth easing her pain?  Wouldn’t she owe us for that?”

“A baby dragon is a powerful weapon,” Claudia said seriously. “Every magical creature can be used for spells, and the kind of spells that could be cast by an archdragon are insane!  The dragon wouldn’t repay us for anything, and we can’t risk her using all that power against  us.”

Dread suddenly sank into Callum’s being and he was asking the question before he could fully finish thinking it. “Any magical creature?  Even elves?”

“Oh yeah,” Claudia said thoughtlessly. “I used some hair from one of them to track you here.  Elf parts are really easy to make spells out of - I have three or four spells in this book just for their horns!”

He was going to be sick.  Callum’s stomach roiled and he shook his head, backing away from her.  Callisto was right.  She was never going to change her mind - she was never going to see the elves as people. 

“They’re my friends,” He protested weakly when Claudia stopped to give him an annoyed look. 

She scoffed again. “I mean, I wouldn’t do it right now, it’d upset you.”

Just because it would upset him?

Callum shook his head. “This was a mistake.” He choked out and turned on his heel, fleeing his former friend again as the sobs bubbled up from his chest. 

They weren’t even people to her!  No wonder she didn’t respect them!  She looked at his other friends and just saw spell parts !  No wonder they were so afraid of her!  What had Skor been through with dark magic before?  Had someone cut part of him away to steal his primal magic?  What about Runaan?  Ram?  What if someone tried to hurt Rayla like that?  The idea stole his breath from his lungs and he couldn’t see for the tears, and he stumbled to a stop to heave his lunch into a bush.

He bolted for the main house he had been sharing with Ezran, Ellis, Ava, Rayla, and Runaan.  He had to talk to Runaan.  

 

“Who put you up to this?” Ram asked coolly, watching Soren critically as the younger man cleaned up the ropes of his ‘slidey sling go fast rope’ game.

Soren straightened abruptly and laughed unconvincingly. “Put me up to what?  I’m not up to anything.”

Ram raised an eyebrow at him and opted not to confront him directly about his attempt to sabotage Prince Ezran.  It intrigued him that the young man hadn’t tried to kill Ezran directly, as that would have been much faster - what was his hesitation?  He wanted to know more.

Besides, Soren was the head of the Crownguard and their closest source of information about what might have happened to the king. 

So he shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes sharp on Soren’s movements. “Coming for the princes, I suppose.”

Soren’s gray eyes searched his with more perceptiveness than he would have anticipated, and he kept his own face schooled into neutrality.  The soldier cleared his throat and refocused on his task of clearing up the game. “My father.” He said shortly. “Lord Viren.”

Ram tilted his head, staring him down. “Aren’t you the head of the Crownguard?” He asked mildly. “Why did your father have to tell you to do this?”

Soren’s shoulders were very stiff and he scowled. “He didn’t!  I would have come to get them anyway, he just - he was the king’s best friend.  He just sort of took over after the king - and he’s my dad.  I can’t just ignore him.”

Ram raised his eyebrows. “You’re a grown man,” He scoffed incredulously. “Of course you could ignore him.”

Soren shook his head tightly. “Lord Viren isn’t someone you ignore.” he said flatly. “Especially as his kid.”

Something about the way he said it had Ram’s hackles on the rise, and he frowned. “You care about his opinion that much?” He probed delicately.

“Bad things happen when I don’t listen to him.” Soren said bluntly. “He’s really powerful, and smart, and I’m kind of an idiot, so when he tells me to do things, I just . . . do them.”

Ram frowned deeper. “You . . . aren’t an idiot.” He said, though it left a sour taste in his mouth. “As much as I hate to admit it, you seem to be a decent strategist and a clever combatant.”

“Sure, I know how to fight.  But it’s everything else.” Soren waved a hand dismissively. “I do what I do best.  A lot of what I do is instinct and training, not thinking.  I’m supposed to follow orders.”

“From the king,” Ram finished for him, brows furrowing as he examined the way Soren moved, the way he talked.  For someone who had just tried to kill the prince he seemed . . . far less tense than Ram had expected.  He had suspected Soren assisted or killed the king himself, but he was less sure with every word from the younger man’s mouth.

“Or from the General, or the regents,” Soren rambled on. “Or . . . or my dad.  It doesn’t matter that I’m the head of the Crownguard now, he’s still my dad, so I have to listen to him.  I just want -” He broke off and set his jaw before just finishing his sentence. “I just want him to be proud of me.”

It was a sentiment Ram could sympathize with, but something about the way Soren was talking still set his teeth on edge. “I can understand that,” He said carefully. “My father’s opinion means the world to me.  Though, I admit we’ve had more than a few shouting matches over the years.” It was a throwaway comment, meant to lighten the mood, to guide Soren into trusting him again, but it made the younger man stiffen.

Soren’s laugh sounded hollow when he straightened up. “My dad would never let that happen,” He said. “He’d just take my voice away if I started yelling, and only gave it back when I’d learned my lesson.”

Ram’s blood felt like ice in his veins suddenly as he stared at the boy. “He’d what ?”

The soldier rolled his shoulders and looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of the dark magic thing either.  But he used to use it to make sure I listened, so now I have the self-control so I just don’t argue to begin with.”

“That’s . . .” Ram blinked at him, at a loss. “Is that why you let him boss you around, still, even at your duty, which he shouldn’t have any control over?” He asked softly. “Does he still use magic on you?”

Soren shrugged noncommittally but didn’t look him in the eyes. “My dad’s smart.  I just do what he says.” He said flatly. “I couldn’t keep the king safe, so . . . obviously I’m not as good at my job as I should be.  I have to listen to him.  He knows what’s best for everyone.  He has to.” His brows were furrowed and his frown reinforced creases in his face that he was far too young to have, and Ram suddenly had an awful suspicion that the head of the Crownguard was not , in fact, in league with whoever had killed the Katolian king.

No, but his father was, and he was manipulating and abusing the boy to get the power he wanted.

Ram felt for him, but this sort of conditioning went far, far too deep to get through to him right away.  They couldn’t afford to let Soren follow them - but rage burned in his chest at the thought of a father treating his son this way.  His fights with his own father had been just that - dual sided fights , and frankly he’d picked most of them.

He couldn’t imagine doubting his father’s love .

So Lord Viren was manipulating his son.  Had probably asked him, obliquely, to ensure the princes didn’t make it home alive, but the soldier himself had doubts.  He was just too afraid of his father’s retaliation, too trusting in Viren’s judgment, to argue directly.  So he couldn’t kill the boys, due to his own dedication, but he couldn’t find it in himself to fully rebel, either, hence the construction of the elaborate attempt at an accident earlier. 

“You may be selling your own intelligence short,” Ram said, all of that flashing through his mind in a terrible, sickening moment, meeting the younger man’s eyes. “And who says your father knows what’s best for anyone?  Part of growing up, I think, is realizing that your parents can be wrong.” He pushed himself off the tree and hoped to the Moon that the young man would internalize the lesson even as Soren just looked at him in confusion. “Trust your own heart, Soren.  And . . . no one deserves to be silenced like that.  By anyone, but certainly not by the father they should be able to trust.”

“I don’t need your pity.” Soren bridled.

“You don’t have it,” Ram said flatly, looking up at him. “But you do have my sympathy.  May the moon light your path, Soren, but let it be your path.  Not the one some bitch with a spell laid out in front of you and threatened you onto.” He stalked away without waiting for an answer, praying it had been the right thing to say.

That Ezran was right about Soren’s good heart, and that he’d driven him in the right direction - away from Lord Viren’s influence. 

Chapter 33: Fleeing the Nexus

Summary:

Runaan sends a message to the Dragon Queen, and the elves make arrangements with Corvus and the princes to escape. The plan doesn't go quite as well as they'd hoped. Skor gets a shock and a lesson, and Corvus . . . well I assume you all have seen the show and know what happens to him in the end of that escape.

Runaan stood alone on the roof near Phoe-Phoe’s perch.  He breathed slow and even as he methodically pulled the blood ribbons from his coat and tied them around the shaft around the shadowhawk.  He took care to do every step properly, though the blood red ribbon of the king’s life felt sticky with blood that had never touched it, and the silver one for the prince felt sharp enough to cut at the edges.  This was different than the messages he had sent before. 

He could send no message of success with this one.  This one sent a disaster back to the throne, and he could do naught but pray the queen waited for his explanation.

It wasn’t that he felt no guilt for the lives he had taken.  He would be heartless if he didn’t care about what he’d done.  Life was sacred.  Life was precious.  Of course it ached in his soul to take it.

He had believed for so long that it was necessary.  That the lives he took were guilty of harming more than they helped; that there was a line a life could cross where they were no longer worthy of keeping it.  

In a way, he still believed that.  If a person truly threatened more than they helped, if they refused to change, he would ache for the loss of the love they could have given, the good they could have brought into the world, but he would not regret taking the life they were no longer owed.

But . . . doubt swirled in his mind and made his hands shake as he tied the ribbons slowly and carefully into knots that would indicate he had time to send a message.  Who was to make the decision about whether someone threatened more life than they loved?  He had placed his trust in the dragons, and they had betrayed it.

Did it matter what he believed, when all that he held dear lived only on the merit of the dragons’ mercy and the old Treaty of Blood?

Even if he risked his personal loves, for the sake of his beliefs, would it matter?  Could his doubts, his actions, make any impact upon the judgment of the dragons or the Sunfire kingdom?  Or would he be sacrificing his life and his people for nothing?

Finished now with the knots, Runaan ran his fingers carefully over the intricate craftsmanship of the arrow, his mind’s eye leading him to trace the same lines as his husband’s fingers in his memory.  The way Ethari examined each arrow for a single flaw and rejected even the smallest imperfections.  This shadowhawk thrummed with magical power not his own, but as intimately familiar to him as his beloved’s breath.

The thought of his love steadied him.  Another slow breath as he held the shadowhawk in his hands brought Runaan’s hands still again.  He could not send this with any hesitation, any tremble in his resolve.

She would sense it.

This task was one he had to take one step at a time.  For now, he would send news that her mate had been avenged - her son alive, recovered, and on his way home.  He could send no more with a message such as this.

As for what to do next . . . only time would reveal how to proceed.

Runaan drew his bow and aimed the shadowhawk to the moon. “ Regina Draconis .” He recited firmly, and loosed the shadowhawk into the air. 

He watched as the arrow flew, waited for it to morph from the form of an arrow into a crow, blood red mottled with silver, and vanish into the night.

Now he only hoped the dark mage had not seen it fly. 

 

Runaan descended the stairs taking quiet stock of who had congregated, whispered word throughout the day gathering the trusted to Lujanne’s house to plan.  Ellis and Ava were quiet for once in the corner with Zym, the little dragon curled up to the wolf’s side where she lay with her ears pricked attentively.  Andromeda had taken an armchair that allowed her to have Ezran perched on the arm, halfway in her lap; the boy had apparently gone to her for comfort the night before when Runaan had been busy.  He’d had the brief thought they would need to discuss custody arrangements before filing it away for later.  Corvus entered as he descended, taking up a seat across from Andromeda and Ezran, beside Rayla, and as he reached the lower floor he spotted  Skor lurking in the shadows nearer the door.

That left Callum, Callisto, and Ram.  They would be keeping an eye on the mage and soldier, and Callum, along with Lujanne, until they went to bed, so he didn’t trouble himself with waiting for them.  For the first part of this conversation, it was best Callum wasn’t present anyway - they would need to figure out how to convince him to leave his friends behind.

“We all know why we’re here.” He said, quiet enough his voice wouldn’t carry outside the building. “Ezran, you know your brother the best of us.”

Ezran frowned. “I don’t know how to convince him not to let them come.” He said quickly. “I told him Claudia scares me, but he won’t listen.”

“He may be more receptive than we think, now,” Andromeda said carefully, and avoided Ezran’s eyes in favor of Runaan’s to explain. “We had a . . . confrontation, earlier, between Claudia, Lujanne, and myself.  She was . . . handsy and disrespectful, and it caused him to flee in tears.  I told Callisto, they said they would speak with him when we switched shifts.”

Runaan’s brow tightened and his lip curled a bit, thoughtfully. “Callisto may not be the most effective person to have that conversation,” He pointed out. “Their perspective on relationships is quite different from Callum’s.”

“That’s why they might be the best,” Andromeda countered. “He’s excessively trusting - perhaps he needs to see the other extreme of loyalty without trust.”

“Runaan?” Ram’s voice interrupted very seriously, and Runaan turned to the door to raise his brows abruptly at Ram’s expression. “A word, please?” His maroon eyes flickered to Ezran and back meaningfully.

Runaan obediently stepped away, letting Ram drop his voice to a whisper to relate the information to him. “What is it?” He signed rather than speaking.

Ram took his cue and replied in the same style. “Before you scold me, I did not confront him directly.”

“What did you do?” Runaan asked, unable to suppress the exasperated sigh. 

“I went fishing with Soren.” fishing for information, he meant. “He didn’t tell me anything explicit except - whatever his orders are, the ones from Lord Viren, his father is threatening him to complete them.”

Runaan’s brows shot up at the claim and he frowned deeply. “His father is threatening him how?”

“Dark magic, violence.  The consequences this time were not explicit, but his reactions were clear enough, and he related previous incidents of having his voice taken away.” Ram reported.

Runaan bit the inside of his lip. “This creates a problem for the theory that Lord Viren killed the king, it seems.” He wondered if they had been played all along - if Corvus was either a better actor than they thought or as duped as they were - if General Amaya had been the traitor to begin with.

“Does it?” Ram spread his hands to punctuate the question after signing it. “If he believed in the cause, why not just kill the boy outright?”

“If he did not, why construct an accident?” Runaan pointed out.

“Because he fears his father’s fury more than he believes he can fight it,” Ram replied, firm and meeting his eyes. “We cannot be certain.  But Ezran might be right about his friend’s good heart.  It is not enough to trust him without a spine.  But . . . if Ezran is right about him, as he has been about everyone else so far, that fuels the theory that Lord Viren killed the king.  He has threatened his son into trying to eliminate the heir, but Soren is faltering with it.”

Runaan breathed a tight sigh through his nose and looked back at Ezran’s worried young face. “Where does the mage fall in this?”

Ram shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“She threatened Andromeda earlier.” Runaan said bluntly, and watched the surprise and then anger flit across Ram’s expression. “And Lujanne.  In front of Callum.”

“Is he still defending her?”

“Not that Andromeda remembers, but Callisto was with him last.” Runaan stepped back into the room, frowning deeply, and resumed speaking aloud to the room. “Your news changes little about our next steps, unfortunately.  We cannot risk a confrontation.  A single soldier is one thing, and between Ram, Skor, Lujanne, and myself we could handle a single mage as well - but not without injuries, and further injuries will slow us down.  I’ve sent the shadowhawk to the dragon queen tonight - it will reach the Storm Spire in no more than three days.  Our time just got much more limited, so we cannot afford to lose any.”

Corvus cleared his throat. “So how do you suggest we escape without Claudia and Soren finding out?” He asked.

“They’ve been sleeping through the night,” Andromeda pointed out. “Leaving shouldn’t be the issue.”

“How do we keep them from following us?” Corvus asked then, frowning deeper as it sank in for him what their real problem was.

Runaan shook his head. “We should be able to cover our tracks well enough from physical skills.  What troubles me is the spell they used to locate us last time.  I don’t know if they can do it again.”

“They know we’re going to Xadia,” Ezran said, frowning. “Does it matter if they know where we are in the middle if they know where we’re going?”

“It might,”Andromeda said carefully. “Once we cross into Xadia it will get much more difficult for them to follow us.  And if we lose them before we reach the border, it will be even more difficult, as they’ll need to find a way to cross without us.”

Ellis tilted her head at the same time as Ava. “Isn’t the Breach the only way across?” She asked curiously.

“No,” Runaan replied for her, evenly. “The Moonshadow have our own way.”

They were halted from further discussion by the door being abruptly shoved open by Callum, the boy stumbling inside with his face soaked in tears and Callisto at his heel.  Callisto shut the door firmly behind them and Callum only glanced around enough to find Runaan before saying, young voice rough with sobs, “We can’t let Claudia come with us to Xadia.”

 

“We can’t let Claudia come with us to Xadia.” Rayla blinked with shock at the clearly disheveled prince’s distress and his abrupt change of heart.  She glanced at the others for their reactions and found even Andromeda looking somewhat startled, and Skor’s pale yellow eyes slightly wide even as his shoulders stiffened.  Corvus was entirely taken aback. 

Runaan crossed the room swiftly to kneel in front of Callum to meet his eyes. “I’m glad we agree,” He said patiently, and wiped some of the damp from Callum’s face. “What happened?”

“Are you okay?” Ezran burst out, hopping down from the chair with Andromeda to come to his brother’s side.  Runaan shuffled aside to let them hug. 

Callum clung to Ezran like some sort of lifeline. “No,” He choked out. “Claudia, she - she was cruel to Andromeda and Lujanne earlier, but I talked to Callisto, and I wanted to try again, to make her see she was wrong, but she just - she started saying these awful things, about how Xadia would never accept a peace and elves don’t deserve respect and - and how to use magical creatures for dark magic.  Any magical creatures.  She said she used someone’s hair for the spell to locate us.”

Rayla flinched, a flash of molten ice running down her bones. “My braid,” She choked out. “That got shot off at the Banther Lodge.”

Runaan looked up at her and though he’d been distant since her slip in the training yard, his eyes softened. “Take comfort in that it was no longer attached,” He said bluntly.

“I just - I don’t want her anywhere near you guys anymore,” Callum sniffled reluctantly, shaking in Ezran’s arms. “It’s - it’s not safe.  And she shouldn’t go anywhere near Zym, or - or Xadia, either.  We have to get away.”

“We were just discussing that,” Runaan said evenly, turning his attention back to the human princes. “We can’t lose any time by fighting them directly.  So we sneak out.  Tonight, once we’re certain they’re asleep.  We notify Lujanne, so she is prepared to defend herself, but they should have no reason to attack her once we have gone.  Then we slip away under the cover of darkness.”

Skor huffed softly through his nose and shook his head slowly, though more in resignation than refusal. “I’ll cover our tracks,” He rasped. “The shadows follow me easily.”

Corvus stood up and straightened his clothes. “Then we should all make sure we’re packed,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye on Claudia and Soren to make sure they’re in bed and asleep.”

“Ram, stay with him.” Runaan ordered. “No one moves near the mage alone.”

Both young men nodded seriously. 

“The rest of you, pack.  We leave as soon as we’re certain they’re asleep.”

 

Their exit from the Moon Nexus started quiet.  Everything seemed to be going according to plan.  Everyone had packed swiftly and knew where they were meant to disperse, only to gather just outside the protection of the Nexus on the slope of the mountain.  They had been alternating watches on Soren and Claudia’s location overnight, but it was time to go now.  They were leaving in shifts.

First to make their way out of the Nexus were Runaan, Ezran, Zym, and Rayla.  Second were Andromeda and Callum.  Next were Ram, Ava, and Ellis, with the girl reluctantly announcing she would just be splitting off to go home.  Callisto had followed them alone.  Corvus had just left.  Skor would bring up the rear and cast a shadow spell to cover their retreat.

Of course, it was on his final step of the plan that things went to shit.  Mid-drawing of the rune Skor spotted the young mage exit her house in a hurry, yawning.  Her shuffle indicated a need for the bathroom and he quickly smothered the glow of his runes so she would not notice the spell being cast.

He stayed frozen in place, praying she would not look towards the forest, as she shuffled to the outhouse and back out, much more relaxed.  He cursed his luck when on her return she took her time, looking up towards the sky and twirling around as if enjoying the magic of the Nexus.

He resented her for it.

Carefully, Skor took a calculated risk and remade his runes.  She was preoccupied, and sleepy, and this was meant to cover his presence as well as their absence.  If he finished the spell quickly enough, he would have nothing to worry about.

He didn’t manage.  A bolt of fire lit the brush beside his feet and he leapt away from it, swearing as the heat seared all too close to his leg.  He wiped the runes from existence and bolted, taking to the trees to escape. 

Not quick enough.  Not quick enough.  Just like last time.  His weapon - his magic, now - had failed him.  He heard her shouting through the roaring in his ears, just barely, and stumbled as the branch he stepped on was suddenly slick.

Something caught him around the stomach and he looked back, swallowing down the fear in his throat, to see glowing tentacles sprouting from the girl’s arms.  They were partially translucent, like a spell, but they felt incredibly solid as they wrapped around him and squeezed .

He lost his breath first, choking on it.  Struggling did him no good against the strength of the creature whose power she’d summoned.  The smell of death burned in his nose and he drew his own rune in the air to blacken her vision, taking all the light from her, blinding her.

It wasn’t enough for her to release her grip.  She shouted for her brother, calling for assistance.  Soren charged up with only his sword, his armor abandoned for pajamas, looking disoriented.

Abruptly, the crushing pressure around his ribs abated and Skor fell hard to the ground.  What wind he still had was knocked out of him with the impact but he rolled to his knees and then his feet anyway, whirling with his eyes wide to look at what could possibly have interrupted her if his spell had failed to do it.  

Corvus .

The human he hadn’t trusted.

He’d come back and was fighting with the others, for no reason but to save Skor’s life.  It didn’t benefit him or the mission in any way.

Skor was too stunned to move for a moment.

“What are you doing?” Claudia demanded.

“Keeping the princes safe from you ,” Corvus retorted, dodging her spell and lunging back towards the forest where Skor stood. “Skor, go !”

Corvus clashed with Soren and their distraction bought Skor the few precious seconds he needed to cast the spell that would bring the darkness to cover their tracks.  He turned to flee and found his steps frozen in place for a moment, looking back at Corvus, still hardly able to comprehend what he had done.

Hesitation pulled at his steps when he saw Soren hit him in the head with a rock, and Corvus collapsed on the ground.  If they tried to kill him - 

But they didn’t.  Soren and Claudia abandoned the tracker there, looking towards the woods where he was now hidden by magic that would fool more than just their sight.  Corvus would be left alive - he’d told Skor to go.

He wouldn’t hesitate if it were another elf.

His team had never hesitated when he was the one left behind.

Skor set his jaw and bolted as he’d been ordered.  Explaining this to Ezran and Callum would be difficult, but . . . 

Corvus had turned back for him.

Corvus had saved him.

For nothing.

From all appearances, just out of sheer compassion, a compassion that extended to elves, of all things.

Skor sent a prayer to the Moon that the human didn’t meet the end of this phase of existence before he saw him again.

He owed Corvus an apology.

And his life.

Chapter 34: Bridge to the coast

Summary:

Skor reports to Runaan, and the party is forced to push faster than ever before to get away.

Notes:

slightly shorter chapter this time because it's just kind of a bridge of events to get us to Captain Villads on the coast. that is also why it took so long. I'm so bored, but I didn't feel like I should skip it.

The group did not reconvene until they were nearly at the foot of the mountain, and Runaan’s clenching heart only eased when they were all once more in sight.  He frowned when Skor caught up, however, put immediately on guard by his friend’s slightly disheveled, wild-eyed look - and the lack of the human tracker who should have preceded him. “What happened?” he asked without preamble the moment Skor was in easy earshot.

Skor shook his head as if shaking something off and signed. “Shouted.” He began by way of explanation for his method of speech, and reported, “The mage saw me as I tried to cast the spell.  Corvus turned back to help when he heard the commotion.  I was able to cast it, but the guardsman knocked him out.  I could not go back for him.”

Runaan held his gaze, searching it, frowning deeply.  There was more that Skor wasn’t saying - he could shout for several minutes before he lost his voice entirely, he was disheveled, he was moving too gingerly, and there was a jerkiness to his hands that spoke of a continuing distress.  But simultaneously, there was a steadiness in Skor’s eyes and his steps were sure; he could wait, for now.

Their priority had to be getting as far from the Nexus as possible. “Corvus was unable to escape,” He relayed more gently to the princes, waiting until Skor nodded slightly to break the look and turn his attention to them.  They both frowned with worry. “He’s alive,” He assured them without pausing too long. “But he won’t be able to catch up for now, and we haven’t the time to turn back.”

“What if -” Callum broke off with a glance at his brother, something deeply haunted making his eyes wide and his lip shake.

Runaan understood after a beat. “They have no reason to harm him.” He said softly. “Other than perhaps information about us - but they were with us long enough to know he doesn’t have much more than they do, that is of any use.  They won’t let him go.  But if they didn’t kill him to begin with, they have no reason to do so now.”

It was small comfort.  Sometimes an enemy didn’t need a reason.  Sometimes hatred was all it took to drive someone to kill.

Electricity crackling over his skin as the furious archdragon demanded the blood of the Katolian royals as price for the deaths of her mate and egg .

Molten fury in Ethari’s flame-tinged eyes as he was dragged back from the body of a Drake Rider who had been too violent in the Marketplace, and the taste of blood on his teeth.

Roiling water soaking the feathers of a Skywing caravan, the smell of salt and fish on the sneering breath of a pirate before the water fell abruptly still, blood turning it red.

The cold judgment in the dark eyes of the soldier who ordered the cave collapsed behind him, heedless of the screams from inside that she could not hear.

Runaan pursed his lips.  None of these children knew that sort of hatred the way he did.

It bothered him that Zubeia’s justifiable rage had been the first example that came to mind. 

Her rage was justified.

Her grief was justified.

Her reaction was . . . 

His eyes drifted over where young Prince Azymondias bounced around Prince Ezran’s feet, the two children taking joy and comfort in each other’s presence despite the hatred that had driven both of their fathers to murder and death. 

“He’ll be okay,” Callum said as if to reassure himself and Ezran, nodding firmly as he turned his attention back to the path. “Corvus will be fine.”

Ezran nodded. “He’s one of Aunt Amaya’s soldiers, he’ll probably escape.”

Their words brought Runaan back to the present and he sighed softly. “We keep moving.” More movement caught his eye, and he relayed Skor’s message to the humans. “It will take them at least a day to find our trail.  But they knew we were leaving, so the faster we move, the better.”

Ram grunted. “I’m not sure how much it changes,” He said grimly. “We will need to cross the inland sea to get to the border.”

Callum frowned and glanced at Rayla, and Runaan took note of his attention with interest. “Wait wait, Rayla’s afraid of water though.  Can’t we go around the sea?” He asked hesitantly.

“We don’t have time,” Rayla insisted before Runaan could answer, though her ears were twitching with embarrassment and her shoulders were tense.

She was right, though. “We would lose days in the detour.  Crossing the sea is our best chance of escape.” Runaan agreed firmly.

“How are we going to get across, though?” Ezran asked, worried.

“Oh, I’ve got that handled,” Callisto said with a self-satisfied little smirk. “I’ve got an old contact here who can get us across.”

“We have to get there first,” Ram reminded shortly, visibly jittery when Runaan looked over at him. “So we should move.  Quickly.”

Though Callum’s longer legs made him faster than his brother, he wasn’t fast enough to keep up with them running.  He certainly didn’t have their stamina, and would need to rest much faster.  Runaan sighed through his nose as he realized what he would have to do. 

He was going to be exhausted when they finally stopped. “Without mounts, the fastest way we can put distance between us is by carrying Callum, Ezran, and Azymondias.” He said flatly. “It isn’t particularly efficient, we’ll be exhausted by the time we reach the Weeping Bay, but we will have to rest on the boat anyway.  Efficiency isn’t our biggest concern with our pursuers so close on our heels.”

“Wait, why Callum?” Rayla asked, wrinkling her nose. “He’s not that much younger than me.”

Callum gave her an incredulous look. “Because you’re so much stronger and faster than I am,” He said as if it were obvious.

To be fair, Runaan rather agreed that it was obvious to everyone except his - except her.  He still felt a pang in his chest from how she’d sneered the fatherly title at him the day before, though he tried to remind himself she was a teenager.  Moon knew most teenagers could be thoughtless with their parents at her age, especially since . . . she’d been through so much.

“Besides, I don’t think I’ve seen any of you get tired.” Callum continued with resignation. “This whole trip we’ve been slowing you down.  This way, we won’t for a little bit.” He squared his shoulders and looked up at Runaan. “I guess - ?”

“Yes,” Runaan answered before the boy could finish the question. “On my back, preferably, it’s easier to run that way.”

Callum nodded quickly and obediently came to Runaan’s side.  They carefully maneuvered him onto Runaan’s back around his pack, the boy’s legs strapped in against his coat to help hold him up - in case Runaan needed his hands.  Unlike his brother, Callum avoided grabbing at his horns, instead sitting low enough to grip Runaan’s coat and shoulders to remain steady.

Nearby, Skor hoisted Ezran up onto his back as well, the boy sitting more on top of his pack than behind it, and high enough to grip his horns for stability.  Andromeda, predictably, had already scooped up little Azymondias, who clung to her like a cuddlemonkey without hesitation.  Ram, Rayla, and Callisto split the boys’ packs between them to take a bit of the load off of the carriers, and once everyone was secured, Runaan led the way with a light jog that sped quickly into a run once they were warmed up. 

 

Skor had expected the exhaustion.  Privately, he suspected Ram or Runaan had worked another little spell on them all as they left the Nexus, though; even accounting for their sprint, they seemed to be covering ground all too quickly for being on foot with cargo.  Nevertheless, by the time Runaan called them all to a halt the next afternoon he felt leaden with tiredness from the weight on his back.  His arms and entire back were stiff, and his shoulders ached, though Ezran wasn’t as much of a weight as his brother doubtless was on Runaan’s back, and he couldn’t quite express the relief of letting the boy down and stretching properly.

He took a moment to breathe, hydrate, and just rest before bothering to set up his tent, noting their leader doing the same to his left.  His old friend was moving as gingerly as Skor felt, stretching out their stiff muscles and finally sinking to the ground to just . . . sit for a little while.

Down on this level it was hard to miss Ezran’s concerned look and Skor graced him with a reassuring smile.  Though worry still plagued his heart, it was hardly Ezran’s fault they had been forced to press on so quickly.

He couldn’t bring himself to let the child see his own guilt for getting caught, and backing them all into this corner.

“We can’t maintain this pace,” Andromeda said worriedly, and Skor and Ezran both looked up to see her standing in front of Runaan with her arms crossed and shoulders tense. “You two are exhausted.”

Runaan shook his head. “We don’t have to maintain it past the coastline,” He reminded gently, though he looked over to Skor and met his eyes.

Skor nodded in silence, confirming his willingness to continue.  It was the very least he could do after it had been his mistakes that led to their time being cut quite so short.  He had done his best to cover their tracks . . . hopefully, it would be enough.  Hopefully the mage couldn’t work any spells to locate them again based on what they’d left behind at the Nexus. 

“What happens when we get to the coastline?” Callum asked, also sitting on the ground.  He was a little more shaky on his legs than Ezran, clearly not used to riding in that awkward of a position, and had chosen to just sit down to wait it out. “It’s going to be full of humans.”

Callisto scoffed lightly. “I told you, lad, I’ve got that covered,” They said with a crooked smile, though their brows furrowed a bit. “As long as that old friend of mine is still sailing, we should be fine.”

“You have human friends?” Ezran asked in awe. “I thought you didn’t . . . stay close to people like that.”

There was no judgment in the boy’s tone but Skor felt a pang in his chest at it anyway, intimately familiar with how Callisto generally kept their distance from . . . everyone.  The whole village, really, and seemed happy to do so.

Except him.

Callisto’s smile was a bit tight. “I  . . . don’t.  Friend might be a strong word,” they admitted. “Contact, I suppose.  And it’s just the one.”

“You managed to find another human who doesn’t . . . you know.  Who’s . . .” Callum struggled with his words for a minute, wincing visibly before just rephrasing it entirely. “It doesn’t bother them that you’re an elf?”

“He doesn’t know.” Callisto said blandly. “Or at least, we’re not acknowledging that he does if he’s figured it out.” They shrugged, glancing back at where Rayla was setting up their tent for them since she still had two working hands, and looking satisfied with her progress.

Andromeda took up Skor’s attention before that conversation continued, and he tilted his head at her as she approached him. “I’ll get the boys’ tent set up,” She volunteered, and when he blinked and raised his eyebrows at her, she just raised hers right back. “We all know you haven’t been using it since the river.” She pointed out. 

Clearing his throat, ignoring the sandpaper rasp of it, Skor shrugged it off and handed his packs over to her without a word.  No one had bothered to say anything until now about all the nights he had been spending with Callisto.  It was a familiar habit; he spent many a night even in the Silvergrove sleeping with them in the trees around the training grounds, though even Callisto didn’t speak of it much.  They seemed to be reluctant to acknowledge it.  He glanced over at them, wondering if they had noticed Andromeda’s comment, how they felt about their little habit being acknowledged.

They didn’t seem to have noticed, instead smiling crookedly at Ezran and crouching in front of him to talk. 

They really seemed to have a soft spot for the children.  They always did, even with the kids at home, they’d adored being around for little Rayla as she grew up.  He understood their fear of leaving someone behind to grieve them, but . . . his heart still ached for how much they obviously enjoyed teaching and interacting with the young ones.  They had no intention of retiring, he knew all too well - unlike Runaan, who had made noise about doing so in the next few years once Rayla was on her own two feet, and himself in his younger days, Callisto would remain an assassin until they died.

And so would he, if it kept them alive just a little bit longer.

Guilt pressed in on his consciousness again and he grimaced, rubbing his temples.  It ached sometimes, catching glimpses of those connections Callisto was too afraid to keep.  It hurt even more realizing he was making more mistakes in his age.  His early thirties was rather young for most elves, but for an assassin . . . he was old enough to be forming habits, to be haunted by traumas, which was leading to less adaptability and more mistakes. 

Mistakes that were going to get someone killed.  With any luck, it would only be himself.  Luck, however, didn’t seem to be on his side. 

This mission had been doomed from the start, with or without his mistake, admittedly, but he still felt foolish.

He’d been quick enough to make the sign and escape from the deaf general all those years ago, before she was a general.  What had made this young mage different?  Was he getting that slow that she’d had the time to see and stop him?  Was it just that she had a ranged attack and no one in that camp years ago had been quick enough with a bow?

Runaan’s hand on his shoulder made his ear twitch with surprise, too absorbed in his thoughts to notice his friend moving. “Go rest,” Runaan ordered roughly. “We will need our strength to get to the coast by tomorrow.”

He grunted his acknowledgement and stood up, obediently making his way into Callisto’s tent.  Callisto tilted their head at him and pulled the flap aside to invite him in as Ezran waved and rejoined his brother across the camp.  He shrugged off his packs and started to stow them when Callisto’s hand landed on his wrist. “Just use my bedroll,” They said bluntly in low tones. “I’ll get yours out in a bit.”

Sometimes Skor wondered if Callisto knew what they were doing to him, offering him their own clothes and blankets, such personal samples of their scent.

He doubted it.

So he just thanked them, too tired and all too aware of his inevitable crash once they could relax again to argue or question how they would manage without their left hand.  Runaan was right.  He was tired enough now - he would be dead on his feet tomorrow if he didn’t rest while he had the chance.

Chapter 35: Finding Passage

Summary:

Callisto goes to enlist help from an old contact. Meanwhile, Skor tries to rest, and spends his time overthinking instead.

Notes:

Kinda short this time I know, but I felt like going over Callisto's report when we experienced the port too would get a little redundant.

The plan was fairly straightforward.  Everyone’s legs were burning from the long run, and while Runaan and Skor were hiding their full-body aches from the children well enough, anyone who had trained with them for years could tell.  Most of the party would wait hidden near the port town while Callisto ventured in alone, under an illusory disguise - cast by Ram, not Runaan, which was as much of a testament to how their leader was feeling as anything else.  Normally he would never delegate something like this to someone who was decidedly inexperienced with magic.

Not, Callisto conceded, as inexperienced as anyone else aside from Runaan and Skor, admittedly.  None of the rest of them had ever spent much time studying magic, but it had been part of Ram’s Keeper training for years before he became an assassin.

It was a fairly simple spell anyway.  Callisto had been entirely too distracted thinking about worrying if Villads was even in port, what would they all do if he wasn’t, to think about the illusion overmuch given someone else would be the one casting it.  It was only after it was cast and Ram cleared his throat awkwardly that she looked down and noticed.

Ah.

“I didn’t do that,” Ram said delicately.

Runaan looked dangerously close to snickering, teal eyes sparkling as Callisto levelled him with an unimpressed look.  Their leader cleared his throat as the children’s eyes went wide with surprise, and replied carefully. “That spell changes nothing but appearance; it relies somewhat on the original identity of the subject to fill out the illusion.  My apologies, Callisto, I didn’t realize it was one of these days for you.”

She narrowed her eyes further at him, unsure why she was even annoyed.  Probably at his general amusement.  Was it really that funny?

Mainly she was embarrassed that she hadn’t noticed until the literal image of herself changed to match that she felt like a woman today.  It wasn’t something that happened very often - had happened more in the last few years as she got older.

Especially in the spring, but she wasn’t going to examine that thought too closely when Skor was looking at her so intensely she could feel it without even looking back at him.  She cleared her throat delicately and reached up to touch her hair, scratching idly at the base of her hidden horns. “To be honest with you I hadn’t been paying attention this morning and hadn’t noticed,” She admitted, and eyed what she could see of the illusion that surrounded her. “I feel like my center of balance should be different, what with . . . the obvious.  So that’s a tad disconcerting.”

“It should be,” Andromeda said dryly, sounding just as amused as Runaan at her startled state. 

Callisto wrinkled her nose at her friend. “Never mind,” She dismissed it. “I’ll be avoiding fights at all costs anyway, so it should be of no real consequence.” She rolled her shoulders to settle into the new appearance, and nodded to the group. “I’ll be back in a few hours - or, if we’re very lucky, even less than that - oh, I hear it now.” She nearly cut herself off as she noticed that even her speech patterns and voice changed in response to this.  She had noticed her own posture change as soon as she realized, but this wasn’t something she usually . . . bothered with telling people on the rare occasion it happened. 

Skor had noticed a few times before, but he seemed to have an odd prescience about her gender anyway.  It was part of his incredible knack for interpreting body language.  

Her comment prompted the snickers it was meant to from the others, including the children, and she winked at Ezran to reassure him as she turned to leave their hiding place in the little hollow filled with trees.  Skor stopped her just before she left the circle, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. “Are you all right?” He rasped, too softly for the others to hear.

Callisto blinked at him, their chest tight with an oddly overwhelming feeling, and swallowed to smile at him. “I’m fine, Skor,” She said honestly, clasping his forearm as he held hers. “It was . . . a little disconcerting to notice like that, and I’m not . . . especially used to this, but it’s nothing new.  It happens more in the spring anyway.” Some recognition flickered in his pale yellow eyes but he didn’t call her out for it, for which she was grateful.

“Just . . . be careful.” He said firmly, and let his voice go back to normal to remind her, “I’ve heard . . . stories about what humans can be like towards their women, especially in port towns.”

At this, knowing the same stories, Callisto couldn’t help but smile back at him with a bit of fond amusement. “And you know how I handle men like that,” She reminded him very dryly.

While Andromeda and Runaan laughed and Ram rolled his eyes, Skor’s mouth twitched a little bit, but he reminded anyway, “There’s no backup here.”

“Never is.” She softened a bit, remembering Corvus, and how fresh that worry must be for Skor, who had not only had to leave Corvus behind but had to watch him be captured, and she squeezed his arm reassuringly. “I won’t need it.” She promised him, softer, and only when he nodded did she let go.  He released her too, his fingers trailing down her arm, and she took comfort in his closeness as she set off.

Now to find that pirate.

 

As it turned out, while she had joked about it, it seemed they were in fact very lucky.  It only took a few probing questions before she was directed to the appropriate pier, with derisive commentary about ‘the crazy old man and the bird’, if she ‘really wanted to risk her pretty head sailing with that kook’.  She’d rolled her eyes at the attitude and followed the directions to find the Ruthless .

It was a small vessel, but it would do for their purposes.  They wouldn’t need to be on it for more than a day or two to cross the Bay, at least.  There was no sign of the captain when she first approached, but after a few minutes she spotted the telltale bright red feathers of Berto on the deck of the ship and called a greeting.

“Good day to you, Berto,” She called, keeping her tone jovial - easy enough with her relief at having found them at all, and grinned.

The parrot fluttered over to the side of the ship and squawked, tilting his head.  She’d never been quite sure how smart the bird was, and how much he really understood spoken language, or how well he recognized people other than his master.  He seemed to recognize her though, because his next squawk was a more friendly “Hello!” and a flap of his wings, which brought the attention of his human master.

Villads’ head popped into view first, quickly followed by the rest of his springy form, and he turned his head from side to side listening for a voice. “What?” He squawked almost as much as his bird. “Now who goes there?”

“It’s good to see you in the same number of pieces as last time, Captain Villads,” Callisto teased, grinning, knowing he’d hear it  in her voice even though he couldn’t see it on her face.

Villads tilted his head again and frowned deeply, leaning further towards the sound. “I’m mighty glad to hear it,” he said easily. “But that doesn’t be tellin’ me who ye are!”

“My name is Callisto.  You ferried me across the bay twice a few years ago,” Callisto said honestly, though she skated past the delicate reasons why she had been in Katolis a few years ago - it had just been a stepping stone on the way to Neolandia but no one else needed to know that.

Villads’ face smoothed and he grinned, letting down his boarding plank.  He sprang down it with the same amount of energy she’d expect from an elf of his age and beamed in her general direction. “I do believe I remember that voice,” He said brightly. “Though ye do sound a bit different than I think I remember, lad.  You were that one from far away, yes?  In a rush - enough of a rush to pay a pirate a good sum of gold for a round trip.”

He was sharp.  It was part of why Callisto liked him, for a human, and she nodded before remembering he couldn’t see her. “That’s right.  Though the difference might be because ‘lass’ might be a bit more accurate than it was last time.”

Thankfully, the pirate didn’t miss a beat.  Callisto was privately relieved.  Some human kingdoms were less tolerant of such things, but thankfully, Katolis seemed to be less newly stiff than some of the others. “Oh, right then, lass,” Villads said. “What can I do for ye this time, then?  Lookin’ for another trip across the bay?”

“I am,” Callisto agreed. “Though I’m afraid I’m not alone.  I haven’t got them with me, they stayed in camp to rest up, but I’m traveling with my . . . brothers and sisters, two children, and a . . .” how to explain a baby dragon? “A dog.” 

What?  He couldn’t exactly see the creature, so as long as they kept him from touching Azymondias, they’d be fine.

As for the others . . . they were her brothers and sisters in arms, at least.  Though it felt a bit odd to say it like that.  And if Villads could see, doubtless there would be a few questions about the lack of resemblance between most of them. 

“How many people is that?” Villads asked.

“Six - five adults, a child, two teenagers.” Callisto corrected herself midsentence, wincing internally at the shift.  It was still . . . awkward to go back to referring to Rayla as a teenager, though she knew it was more accurate. 

Though, she had her own thoughts about that situation.  Was Rayla really not ready for adulthood, the heavily supported version of young adulthood that most young elves received?  Or was she just not cut out to be an assassin?

She’d never had the hardness that the rest of them did.  Ethari had been right about that from the beginning.

“I’m sorry for yer loss,” Villads was saying, and she blinked at him in confusion until she realized how she’d sounded describing their group.

“Oh!” She huffed a rueful chuckle. “No, nothing like that, Villads.  It was just - one of our teenagers was . . . well.  She’s an apprentice who was meant to leave her apprenticeship as a master on this trip, and she . . . didn’t.  So it was meant to be six adults, two children, but we still have only five with three children.”

Villads looked skeptical but he shrugged. “If ye say so.  I can do that!  But uh, make sure ye clean up after your own dog.  Can’t see to do it myself, ye see.”

“Fair,” Callisto agreed with relief. “And while I’m not the holder of the purse for this trip, I’m certain Runaan will be sure to repay you for your time and effort.  And Andromeda, Ram, and I will all be ready hands should you need or desire physical assistance.”

“Only three of ye?” Villads grinned at her. “I’m just kiddin’ with ye!  I wouldn’t let any of ye landlubbers touch my ship anyway.  Of course!  Just bring them up when you’re ready to leave!”

“Thank you.” Callisto said with a little bow. “You can’t see it but I’m bowing.  I’ll bring them back and make our introductions next.”

“We’ll be here,” Berto squawked, and Villads nodded his agreement, and she darted off with purpose. 

 

Skor was sulking and he was fully aware of it but it didn’t help much.  Leaving Corvus behind bothered him more than he had really anticipated.  He knew exactly why, obviously.  The man had come back for him, risked his life, and he had refused to return the favor.  For all it had been what Corvus wanted - for all their mission was more important than any individual life - 

It had been something no one else had ever done for him, so it bothered him that a human had been the one to break the pattern.  It bothered him that he hadn’t been able to help.  And it bothered him that it was even bothering him, given he and Corvus had both agreed that the mission was more important.  That was the whole point.  He had been necessary to that step in the plan, and Corvus had not been.  

And then, of course, there were the two days of carrying Ezran while running for the coast as quickly as possible.  It was nothing he couldn’t handle but Moon above, it was tiring.  It ached in his bones and his muscles burned.  The pressure on his horns from Ezran’s grip even had his head pounding, not that he’d ever admit it to the child.  He imagined Runaan was in even worse of a state, with the more awkward positioning of Callum around his back. 

And then!  As if he weren’t dealing with enough!  Callisto had woken up today with a delicate little gasp, and he’d just had to wake up to her little nuzzle under his chin before she woke up enough to realize what she was doing.  He hadn’t commented on the faint blush on her largely unmarked cheeks, or the way the light slashes at her cheekbones highlighted them.  He had been able to tell within minutes of waking up, by the way she moved her hips as she rolled away from him to get up, the way she ran her fingers through her hair, that she was feeling more feminine than usual. 

Something about how startled she had been about it hit him in his core, and he couldn’t quite ignore it.  He’d been worried, at first, about her, if she wasn’t comfortable with them knowing this part of her - or if he’d been wrong, if the spell was wrong about her - but she’d reassured him before she left.  She really just hadn’t noticed until she was confronted with it. 

It happened more in the spring, she’d said.

His traitorous mind wouldn’t stop whispering about that particular little detail.

He hadn’t really taken much note of it before, it wasn’t as if he kept track of the trends in his friend’s mind.  He just tried to observe well enough to keep her comfortable - or him, or them, as the day required.  But to hear that she felt like this the most during the spring - the season that tended to highlight an elf’s preferences the most - was  . . . telling. 

It wasn’t as though he made a secret of his own preferences, either.  Or as though he’d never had . . . thoughts about his friends, on occasion.  It still felt awkward, though, with how delicate Callisto still seemed to be with this for herself.  He had no qualms having thoughts about Runaan, as his friend was well-established within himself and his relationship and they both knew that wouldn’t change.  Callisto was so much less sure of this aspect of herself. 

It was adorable.  He wanted to hug her, and that was the more startling urge, frankly.  

Callisto was always attractive, after all, and his mind had wandered their way on more than one occasion, especially since he had a long day to think over how he felt about them. 

But wanting to offer her his cloak, give her a hug and have her just sink into his arms the way she did when she slept?

That ached sharper in his chest than a dirty fantasy ever could. 

Especially as he was fairly certain she wouldn’t be the type to accept it, at least not about this, not until she was more confident herself. 

This all, of course, was only a distraction to keep himself from thinking about the more difficult emotional tangle of what had happened with Corvus.

Didn’t stop him though.

He was lying down in his tent pretending to sleep, relaxing at least his body though his mind simply would not slow down enough to let him properly rest.  Runaan was allegedly sleeping in the only other tent they had bothered to erect, to give them enough darkness to potentially sleep while Callisto was seeking out her pirate contact.  Skor suspected Runaan was struggling just as much as he was.

Something was going on with Runaan and Rayla again; some of the tension from before he had claimed her had seeped back into their dynamic.  If he had any mental energy to spare to worry about his friend’s relationships around his own right now, he’d be annoyed with them.  As it was, all he could summon was vague exasperation and a wandering thought as he cast around for something to stop himself from worrying about Corvus.

There was no point in worrying, was the thing.  Either Corvus had lived and would live, or he hadn’t and wouldn’t.  There was nothing he could do about it at this point, and this was a situation that Corvus had not only agreed to but demanded.  He had been the one shouting at Skor to leave before he was struck.

Skor rolled over in his bedroll again and tucked his face into both folded arms to block out more of the damnable light from the sun shining through his tent walls.  He needed rest .

The sounds from the rest of the camp that announced Callisto’s return could not have come at a better time.  He rose with a soft groan of frustration and ran his fingers through his loose hair, over the braid that adorned the side of his head - placed there by Callisto’s careful fingers before they left - and went to hear what she’d found in the port.

Notes:

next up: The Ruthless!

Chapter 36: The Voyage of the Ruthless Begins

Summary:

Callum breaks the seal on Harrow's letter. Ram has confusion and some suspicions, and Andromeda gives him some insight.

Notes:

I know things have slowed down a lot over the last few chapters, I'm sorry. Someone I knew passed away unexpectedly at the end of April and I finally found out where he was a couple of weeks ago. I went to his memorial, and started to find my stride again from that, and now one of my pets has also passed away after several months fighting an illness. TDP is a happy comfort fandom for me, and I'm not in a good place to write . . . hopeful things right now. I haven't forgotten or given up, but things will just be slow for a while. Thank you guys for sticking with me.

Villads had only mentioned the possibility of a storm after they boarded.  Callisto must have said something to imply their urgency before they got there, because though he cautioned them, the blind captain really didn’t seem to expect any answer other than Runaan’s curt “If you think it possible, we risk it.”

This suited Callum well enough.  He was still wrestling with Claudia and Soren’s betrayal, and Claudia’s thoughtless cruelty in particular.  On top of that, now that they were moving again it was harder to forget that he no longer had access to sky magic with the loss of the primal stone.  The connection he had felt to that energy had been so powerful, it was almost like losing a part of himself. 

He knew it was ridiculous.  The elves had been not unkind about telling him so, not in so many words.  It still left him feeling weak and broken, especially when followed up by being carried on a man’s back for two days of running.  

His legs and shoulders ached from helping to hold himself up, and no amount of Runaan’s stoicism could hide the way the elf moved more slowly as if he too was aching from the effort, and that only added to Callum’s feelings of guilt and helplessness. 

At the moment, the elves were all up on the deck with Ezran, Zym, and Bait, and he remained down in the hold.  The letter King Harrow had written him seemed to burn in his mind in the bottom of his bag, even the memory of his stepfather tainted by how he had received it.  If only he hadn’t dropped it at the castle; then Claudia wouldn’t have been the one to pick it up, then he wouldn’t have received this last remnant of him from someone who had gone on to hurt Callum and Ezran so badly. 

He wondered a little if this was how Rayla felt about her parents.  If the ache in his chest from his friends’ betrayal echoed a little bit of what she felt for what her parents had done.  She didn’t seem to feel the same taint towards Zym as he felt towards Harrow’s letter.

Maybe he wouldn’t either, after he read it.  Reading his father’s words had always made him feel better; maybe this would be the same?

At least it hadn’t been a shock.  He was grateful to Runaan, in a strange way, for how the elf had not tried to hide the king’s death from them.  How strangely honest the assassin had always been with him and with Ezran, even about the hard things.  He didn’t talk down to them like some adults still did, especially about things that were important to them.

He had pulled out the letter before he really thought about it, and began to read. 

 

Dear Callum,

 

It read, and his eyes stung already, recognizing Harrow’s handwriting, noticing distantly the affection in the king’s very beginning.

 

Over the years there have been moments when I let there be a distance between us. Because I’m your stepfather, I was trying to give you the space to love your real father, even after he passed away.  Now I wonder if I should have held you closer.  I wonder if showing you how much I loved you would have been okay and would not have disrespected your relationship with him.  He was always in favor of my affection for you, but our grief brought a distance where perhaps it should have brought a deeper connection. 

Callum, I know I’m not your birth father.  But in my eyes and in my heart, you are my son.  I see myself in you, am proud of you, and I love you unconditionally.

 

He had to stop again to breathe through it, wiping tears from his eyes.  He had always known that his mother married King Harrow before his father’s passing, that the three of them had an agreement of shared affection and she was married to them both.  He had lost his father and mother within about a year of each other, and it had left him floundering.  He had clung harder to his mother at first, only to lose her so quickly, and Harrow had withdrawn in what Callum now recognized was his own grief.

He had loved them as much as Callum did, albeit differently.  Perhaps even differently between them.  He  didn’t . . . talk about Callum’s father much.  No one really did anymore, except Aunt Amaya.  Callum guessed a common born poet was far less important to most people than the former Crownguard and Queen Sarai. 

 

As I write this, the sun is setting while Moonshadow assassins prepare to end my life.  A few months ago, I took my revenge on Xadia.  Tonight, it is their turn.  I may not have long, so I’m forced to ask myself: What can I pass on to my sons in the time I have left?  In this letter, I will share with you a lie, a wish, and a secret.

 

What could he mean?

 

Ram was well aware he was staring.  He didn’t particularly care, either.  There were two targets of his interest, and only one of them could see him, so he focused his stare on Villads.  Callisto would surely have called him out if he focused on her. 

How did they know each other?  As far as he knew, Callisto hadn’t done that many coastline missions, certainly not on this side of the border.  Admittedly, he hadn’t done that many either; there often wasn’t a reason for Moonshadow assassins to get involved with anything offshore.  The Tidebound and water dragons ruled the seas and kept their politics fairly well away from everyone else. 

Callisto seemed remarkably relaxed with the situation, was the thing.  She’d even had Ram drop the illusion around her once they left the shoreline.  The bird, which had a remarkable vocabulary that led Ram to suspect it was a Xadian bird, had not commented but he had the terribly uncomfortable feeling that it could.  If it chose to.  For some reason, though, it wasn’t.

Villads was a baffling personage, too.  How was a completely blind human managing a vessel like this with only a seeing eye bird for assistance?  He seemed to have an almost magical connection to the sea and wind around them.  The other humans also seemed rather venomous towards him, their journey to his docking station littered with rude mutters and strange, disapproving looks. 

Andromeda hopped up next to him and bumped her shoulder against his. “What’s wrong?” She asked bluntly.

“Villads.” Ram grunted, not seeing the point in keeping it from her. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd how . . . aggressive the other humans at port were towards him?  And how relaxed Callisto is with him?”

Andromeda hummed and squinted up at the sky before laying her ears back against the sunlight and looking back down at the deck. “I don’t know,” She said eventually. “Callisto has been working for longer than either of us.  She said she met him on a previous mission.  Perhaps the other humans’ prejudice against him is strange, but it seems to work in our favor - they’re less than interested in us.”

“Does it?” Ram pointed out. “What about the welcome he’ll get on the other side of the Bay?  Are we certain we’ll be safe?”

“We won’t be safe anywhere this side of the border, the identity of our captain hardly matters for that.  We won’t be docking in a port, Runaan already made that explicitly clear.  We’ll be rowing ashore somewhere secluded.” Andromeda soothed him, reaching over towards his head.

Recognizing the pause for what it was, Ram huffed through his nose but leaned over towards her to grant quiet permission for her to ruffle his hair.  He had cut it short after his mother’s death as a show of his personal grief, and it wasn’t quite long enough to braid again yet, but he did somewhat miss the show of affection it offered.  So.  Letting her pet him to soothe his nerves. 

He slightly regretted not offering - or asking - to braid his father’s hair before he’d left, but it had felt awkward with his own messy mop still too short to return the favor. 

Andromeda wasn’t really a motherly figure to him, their ages were too close together, but he supposed she was something like an older sister he’d never had.  It took effort not to just lean into her body and let her cuddle him like a snuggle toy in front of the sun itself on the deck of this bloody pirate ship. “Andromeda.” He whined when she wouldn’t let up scratching his scalp.

She was audibly grinning when she replied. “Do you really want me to stop?” She teased very gently. “It seems to be helping.”

He made a discontented noise and she thankfully stopped with a final ruffle to his messy hair.  He bumped his shoulder against hers apologetically and continued with his concerns. “It’s not just Villads and his . . .” He gestured vaguely at where the pirate had blatantly fallen asleep while piloting the ship. “It’s Callisto.  She seems to trust him - perhaps more than she even trusts us.  Why?  She doesn’t trust anyone easily.  Skor and Runaan had to earn it.  So why this random human pirate?”

Ram kept his voice low so as not to get Callisto’s attention, but when he gestured at her he realized she was really not going to notice.  For once all of her sharp focus seemed zeroed in on Skor and the children played some sort of game on the deck.  She seemed . . . terribly fond of the children for how much she avoided them back in the Silvergrove, and he said as much, adding that to his list and concluding, “Isn’t it just a bit strange?”

Andromeda was chewing her lower lip a bit when he looked over at her helplessly.  She took a deep, slow breath and sighed. “I don’t know that it is,” She said gently. “Do you really think she trusts him, Ram?  Or does she simply not care what he thinks?  She trusts us, but she cares far more than I think your or Rayla realize about what we all think of her.  She does not have that care for this human, and thus she is less . . . tense about interacting with him, even though she trusts him less.  Because, as you said, she does not trust easily.  But he does not know who she really is.  We do.”

Ram tilted his head as he mulled that over, his brows furrowing deeply as he did so.  It was an expression he’d inherited or learned from his mother, and he was carefully not thinking about why she was suddenly so present in his mind. “I don’t understand how one can be more relaxed with someone they don’t trust than someone they do.” He finally said bluntly.

Andromeda tilted her head back thoughtfully and her tone was intrigued when she replied. “Are you more relaxed with me or with your father?” She asked mildly. “And I mean relaxed in letting yourself be fully who you are, not simply comfortable.”

Ram opened his mouth to answer and found he had no argument for her point.  Despite his father’s reassurances, he didn’t embrace himself fully with him as he did with the other assassins.  He was comfortable in his childhood hollow, always felt safe and relaxed to just be . . . but the version of himself that he brought to that home was not the fully self-assured assassin he brought to Andromeda.  

“I see your point.” He said reluctantly after shutting his mouth with a click. 

Andromeda bumped his shoulder with hers. “It’s fair of you to get confused.  Callisto can be . . . difficult to understand.” She bit her lip visibly as she watched the other elves and Ram detected a note of something deeper in her tone and followed her gaze. 

Callisto had joined in on a new game Skor was playing with the children, though admittedly she seemed to be prioritizing the baby dragon they were all entirely too fond of after only a few days.  Ram had been trying to hold his own heart back, knowing they would be leaving the young dragon with his mother at the end of this quest - and that was the best possible outcome of all this. 

“What is it for you?” He asked when Andromeda failed to elaborate.  She looked at him with a curious quirk of her brow and he shrugged, feigning carelessness with his eyes still fixed on her out of the corners. “You sound as though there is something about them that you struggle to understand as well.  What is it for you?”

Pursing her lips, Andromeda tried to give him a little glare for poking, but she sighed and relented to telling him anyway. “They don’t stay close to people outside of the Guild for fear of leaving them behind.  I understand it . . . to a point.” She chewed her lip for a moment, eyes wandering off across the water as she considered how to go on, before adding, softer, “Sirius made a similar choice after our father died, and left training as an assassin so that our mother would not have to lose us all.  I remember how much we grieved, I remember . . . so I understand why they don’t wish to inflict that suffering on other people.  But I cannot imagine being so . . . comfortable just withholding my affection entirely.  Being so alone.”

“She seems happy with it.” Ram glanced at her again. “Most of the time, anyway.”

“She can be happy with it, I’m glad she is,” Andromeda agreed, and smiled faintly when Ram looked at her. “I just . . . don’t understand loving people the way she does, enjoying company and children and affection as she does, and being so comfortable being alone.”

She was wiggling in her seat, and through the nose-blinding salt of the ocean, they were sitting close enough that Ram could smell the shift in her scent that had her breathing through her teeth and leaning her head back with her eyes closed.  Her heat had her more instinctual urges bright to the forefront, and she was unsettled about something.

Ram suspected it had something to do with the talking about being alone.  No one - well, almost no one - liked to be completely alone during breeding season.  Even those who weren’t consciously interested in breeding or children tended to prefer some form of closeness.  He had been doing his best since Andromeda’s heat made itself known back at the Nexus and he’d heard her whining from her room, and it had helped.  But even considering being left as alone as Callisto preferred to be -

Ram bit back a whine of his own, cringing at even considering how that must feel.  He still took his own heats at home with his father, having no mate to lean on, and to be denied that comfort and company -

He slid an arm around Andromeda without prompting and didn’t bother talking about it, just snuggling her close and letting her scent that she wasn’t alone.

Andromeda’s shoulders twitched in what felt like an amused snort, but she accepted the cuddles without a complaint.  Ram felt irrationally grateful for it, unsure how to even take gratitude being directed at him for supporting her in such a basic familial comfort.

Notes:

My grief definitely slipped into this chapter a little bit, reading it over now. It was written the day after my friend's memorial, so . . . yeah that tracks. I hope it added a bit of depth to Ram's character for you guys.

Chapter 37: The Storm

Summary:

Ezran asks an idle question and gets more than he bargained for. Callum wrestles with the aftermath of Harrow's letter, and turns to his other father's older words for comfort, and he has a breakthrough. Rayla worries about the idiot.

Notes:

I forgot to add when I first posted this: the poetry I use in here isn't my own invention, it's merely edited into poetry from two songs I happen to like: "Fly" by country music duo Maddie & Tae, and "Everything Flies" from the Balto 3 soundtrack.

“I always wondered why it’s called the Weeping Bay,” Ezran confessed idly, staring boredly at the sky.  He was lying on his back with Zym at his side, with Callisto, Skor, and Runaan all seated or lounging around him just as bored. 

At least he assumed they were just as bored.  They were relatively quiet now that Zym was hot and tired and Ezran was bored with all the games they’d come up with.  There was nothing else to do or see on the boat, except for more water.  And they’d just laughed softly when he confessed to his own boredom.  So he supposed he was guessing that the laughter had been agreement that they were bored.

When there was no answer he just continued to ramble. “I mean, it’s not really shaped like a teardrop or anything?  There’s Teardrop Pond near the town where Mom grew up, which is shaped like tears, so that makes sense, but this doesn’t.  I guess maybe it’s just a stream of tears, but I definitely wouldn’t have come up with that as a name.” He had gestured widely in front of him and then let his arms drop when he said stream, but now he blinked and sat up to look around at the elves as he realized something. “What did you guys call it when you lived here?” He asked. “Do you even call it the same thing?”

The elves exchanged glances and Runaan sighed, relaxing his hands from their more formal meditative pose. “I don’t recall what our people called it in the old days.” He admitted. “But I know how it got its present name - we do call it the same thing.”

Skor stared out across the water as if not quite seeing it and Ezran felt a pang of concern for him before pale yellow eyes closed with a breath he could see more than hear, and Skor rasped, “Sea of Shadows.”

“That’s so much cooler than Weeping Bay.” Ezran said flatly and frowned. “Why’d we change it - why did you change it?”

Runaan gave him one of those long, thoughtful looks before answering in a softer voice. “Do you remember the story I told you on our way up the Lunar Caldera?” He asked. “About the history of the Moonshadow and how we were driven out?”

Ezran winced, something cold and ominous settling in the pit of his stomach at where this was going. “Yeah,” He said, more subdued. “But what does that have to do with the Bay?”

“Traveling over water is often faster than fleeing on foot.” Runaan said softly. “When we fled, we did so over the bay.  Human refugees coming from the other direction were doing the same, and the boats often clashed.  This bay was the source of much of the loss we - and you - endured during the emigration, as it doesn’t take much to sink a small boat.  And refugees rarely travel in large ones.  It is the majority of our path to Xadia . . . and the majority of our weeping was done here.  Or because of it.”

Oh.  Ezran felt a little sick to his stomach as he realized they were sailing over an inland sea - likely over the bones of his friends’ ancestors.  Or even his own.  Mixed, at the bottom of the unfeeling water.

Suddenly he understood Rayla’s aversion to it, and how she couldn’t keep her food down as they sailed.  He swallowed against the feeling and winced as his throat burned, keeping his mouth tightly shut before looking up at Runaan again.

The elf was watching him, his expression smooth and thoughtful.  His eyes were soft around the edges, though, and his hands rested easily on his knees. 

“Oh,” Ezran finally said in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”

Somehow, Runaan’s blue-green eyes - similar, Ezran noted distantly, to the color of the sea they sailed over - softened even more. “It was a very long time ago, young Ezran.  Even then . . . humanity cannot be held responsible for a line drawn by dragons and elves.”

That hurt even more, remembering that their grief hadn’t been caused by the war.  Even if their quest worked, the Moonshadow elves he’d grown so close to would still be suppressed.  Ezran frowned down at the deck of the ship. “I’m still sorry,” He decided aloud. “That even other elves and dragons don’t see you as equals.  It’s wrong.”

At a lengthy pause that followed his words he peeked up at the elves.  Runaan was no longer looking at him, instead a single white brow was slightly arched as he looked over at Skor.  Ezran followed his gaze and saw the swordsman tilting his head, staring at him with a curious look in his eyes, something haunted like Aunt Amaya got sometimes behind the expression.  Callisto, when Ezran looked, also had their head tilted, though their whole body was lounging across the deck at angles, and their orange eyes were sharp and almost calculating on him. 

“You’re an interesting boy, Ezran.” They informed him quietly.

“Uh . . .” He didn’t quite know what to say to that. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

And that, it seemed, was the end of that.

 

Callum was still feeling rattled from the letter when the storm hit and they were driven to wait on shore on a little island halfway across the bay.  At least he hoped they were halfway.  He hadn’t dared to ask, just like he hadn’t dared to ask the elves yet what they knew about the cube.  Key, apparently?  None of them had recognized it as being anything significant, and he hated to bring up the argument they had all had over it again if King Harrow had been . . . not wrong, but if the story he knew about its origin was just that, a story. 

The king’s letter had made him dig up some of the poems scribbled into the margins of his sketchbook.  He had written them down himself, copied from his father’s books, as he learned to write in the book his other father had given him.  

 

Keep on climbing, though the ground might shake

Keep on reaching, though the limb might break

You’ve come this far

Don’t you be scared now

You can learn to fly 

On the way down

 

Searching for a sign in the night

Even like a lonely string of lights

That will burn just long enough for you to see 

The road’s been long and lonely

And you feel like giving up

There’s more to this than just the breath

You’re breathing.

 

You won’t forget the heavy steps

It took to let it go

Just close your eyes

Count to ten

Hold your breath

And fly

 

He hadn’t understood it when his mother sang the poem to him as a small child.  He hadn’t understood why her voice broke and she could never finish it, after his father died, though she could read many of his other works.  Now he understood it, and his eyes burned again reading over his father’s words, somehow both determined and resigned.  When he was alive, this had been testament to his survival.  Now that he was gone . . . the final verse read as a heart-wrenching goodbye to match the letter sitting beside Callum on the bench.

He couldn’t help but feel cheated that he had these - these final words from both his fathers - and he’d been robbed of it with his mother.  Even still, he wasn’t sure who to blame.  Avizandum had killed her.  But King Harrow had trespassed, and it had been all Lord Viren’s idea.  It was all just people reacting, wrapped up in this centuries old cycle of hatred.

Harrow had learned, too late.  Damien . . .

Damien had always known, and Callum wiped his tears away before they could smear the charcoal of his words.

He flipped to another page to read another of his father’s poems that had always made him feel better.

 

The wind across the water

A cloud across the skies

The music in the echo

Of the eagle as she cries

The winter light at sunset

The full moon on the rise

Everything, everything flies

 

The words had new meaning after everything he’d learned from the elves and Zym, and Callum found himself scrunched over them reading closer.  Everything flies - like they had been flying across the water, their sail being a wing, the cloud skimming above on the same current.  He hadn’t heard eagles in a few days but gulls called here and there.  The moon was waning but he saw its full circle on Runaan’s shoulder, Ram’s palms, the backs of Skor’s hands, Andromeda’s face, he saw how they coasted on moonlight like it was energy at night.

 

A deer across the meadow

A rabbit on the run

The young colt with a flashing tail

Leaping for the sun

A million crystal snowflakes

Dance before your eyes

Everything, everything flies

 

It somehow made sense, as he read it.  He could see it, in his mind’s eye, the way the wind moved around a bouncing deer, a running rabbit, a playful colt, the same wind that lifted snowflakes back into the air, that birds coasted upon like the sail that had been carrying them across the water.  The same wind that lashed above now in the storm.

 

Time and stars and innocence

Childhood's waking dream

The spark that leaves a dying fire

The trout that breaks the stream

 

His eyes stung again as he tried to apply these words the way the others made sense.  Time really did fly - it seemed like so long since he’d . . . since he’d written these words.  He didn’t remember the handwriting that had penned them first.  He remembered his smile, though.  His tired eyes and charcoal-smudged hands.  He remembered the sparks from his funeral pyre.  He remembered watching fish jump through the water in the river near their old village, and smaller fish in the one by the castle.

 

A mother's prayers to heaven

A young boy's paper kite

The breeze that brings the morning

A comet through the night

Aurora borealis

As it sweeps across the skies

Everything, everything flies

 

He remembered the way his mother knelt by the altar to pay her respects to the gods.  The way she closed her eyes before she left on each mission and prayed to come home safely - that he and Ezran would be safe in her absence, the way she said speaking words carried them into the air.  He’d imagined them flying up next to his kite.  It wasn’t air that carried comets, he didn’t think, but they too flew across the sky - beyond the bounds of what humans could harness.  Aurora borealis, the lights they said swept across the northern skies - he’d never seen them.

His father had seen them.  He was from the northern parts of Katolis, and had family in Duren, had traveled far enough north as a child to see the lights.  He’d moved back south because the air was too thin higher in the mountains.  

 

The moment that we first appear

Something in us sees

We tell the world with arms unfurled:

"Give me sky, give me wings"

 

Not everything needed wings to fly.  Some things just . . . flew.  Like the breath Sarai coached him through when he began to panic.  Like her prayers.  Like Harrow’s faith, like his wishes.  Like his father’s spirit.  Like the wind, the sail, the comet . . . maybe one didn’t need wings.  Maybe the sky just needed . . . freedom.  And change.

 

When we lift a heart with goodness

Or lend a helping hand

We share the load upon the road

Through despair and fragile hands

The things that keep us earthbound

Melt before our eyes

Everything, everything flies

Everything flies

 

This was it.  This was the point of everything they were doing.  Callum stood up and began to pace with the book in hand, his mind racing as he felt close to . . . to something.  He didn’t know what.  He and Ezran and the elves were coming together to try and help each other, held together by a fragile, desperate chance at peace.  At change. 

He had to go find Zym.  He was so close to understanding the little dragon’s arcanum - if he just spent some time with him, he knew he’d get it, with Zym’s help.

 

As everyone else filed below decks to wait out the storm, Rayla noticed Callum hesitating by the rails. “Hey, are you comin’ or what?” 

“Yeah.  I agree.” He said vaguely, staring intently into the storm.

Rayla narrowed her eyes at his back and sighed, trudging back out through the rain to sit beside him. “I know that face.” She accused, perching on the rail. “It’s the dumb idea face.”

Callum gave her that cute little smile back, with the affectionate tilt of his head that had settled in her heart like a comfortable hug.  Thunder cracked as she looked at him and sparks from the lightning flew, reflected in his green eyes. “Every time the lightning strikes, I feel something.” He told her, intensely.

Rayla gave him a skeptical look. “Yeah, me too.  It feels good t’ not get struck by lightnin’.” She couldn’t help the roll of her own shoulders, and she found herself tilting her head back to look at him, dry and inviting of his arguments.

“No,” he insisted. “I mean, it feels like it did when I used the Fulminis spell.  Maybe if I’m brave enough to go into it, and face the storm, that’s how I’ll make the connection.”

Realizing what he was suggesting, Rayla shoved her fear for him down and attempted to give him some - perspective. “Or it’ll blow ye up until you’re dead.” 

Near the door, a reptilian chirp caught her attention, and they both looked over to see Zym bouncing around in the rain once again.  Ezran and Bait sat on the stairs further down, where they were still sheltered from the downpour, and as the lightning flashed again Rayla saw it reflected in Zym’s eyes just as it had been in Callum’s.

“See?” He said. “Zym gets it.  He can feel it too.”

“You really wanna go out there, don’t you?” Ezran cooed to the little dragon, scooping him up to carry him out as Rayla stood up to walk with Callum towards them.  Zym squeaked eagerly.

Rayla’s eyes flashed wide and she didn’t quite panic, but it felt a near thing, which just made her angry. “Oh, no.  No no no no no, it’s one thing to stupidly risk your own stupid human life, but I am not goin’ to let you risk the life of the future king of the dragons.” She snapped.

“He is a storm dragon.” Ezran pointed out, and handed the baby dragon over to his brother. “He’ll be safe.”

Rayla’s jaw dropped momentarily, but Ezran did have a point.  Storm dragons could create lightning.  What was she so afraid of?  She wasn’t that worried about Callum.

She wasn’t.

Even if he did look really sweet smiling down at the little dragon in his arms.

He looked back up at her before walking away and said, as softly as possible in the downpour, “Rayla, I’m so close.  I was reading . . . reading the letter, and some of my dad’s poetry - my birth dad - and I just, I feel it, it’s almost like holding the primal stone again except it’s somewhere all around me.  I just need to find a way to let it in, like your arcanum.  I can do this.  I promise.  And I’ll be safe.  We both will.”

For the briefest of moments, he reminded her of a Moonshadow elf.  It wasn’t their way to worry.  When someone left on a mission they believed they could do . . . it wasn’t her place, not his mentor, not his master, to tell him he couldn’t.  She had to trust him as he trusted her, as she had been raised to trust her pride.

Rayla nearly cut her tongue on a fang biting it before she nodded stiffly.  She and Ezran followed boy and dragon to the railing of the ship and watched them go.  Despite herself, as he drew further away with Zym, she couldn’t contain herself any longer. “If you die out there, I swear I’ll kill you!” She shouted.

The anger left her as suddenly as it had bubbled up when Callum didn’t answer her, just cast a look over his shoulder that might have been a smile.  She let her clenched fist fall to the railing, and the tension from her shoulders.

“Uh-oh.” Ezran said in a small voice.

The tension immediately returned. “What do you mean, uh-oh?”

“What are we going to tell Runaan?”

. . . . 

“He definitely heard you yelling.”

Fuck.

Chapter 38: Called Out

Summary:

Runaan is upset, but the other elves give him some much-needed perspective - both on Callum and Zym, and on Rayla.

Notes:

I've realized I forgot to add links and credit to the songs I adapted as Damien's poetry in the last chapter, so here they are:
Fly, by country duo Maddie & Tae
Everything Flies from the Balto 3 disney movie, performed by Kimaya Seward and Ken Stacy

"And you let them leave? Alone?" Runaan asked incredulously.

Ram stifled a snort behind his hand at his mentor's wide eyes, so matching his daughter's though he was trying to scold her, both of them just staring at each other in such shock.

Rayla quite nearly shuffled her feet and her hands were clenched behind her back, but she stood her ground. "I thought it was important."

"It is important," Runaan agreed impatiently. "It's important that the princes be protected. Where did they go?"

"I don't know-"

"You don't -" Runaan broke off with a noise of frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ram, Skor, Andromeda, someone needs to find them."

Ram cleared his throat, cringing a bit from Runaan's tone and the look on Rayla's face. "With all due respect, Runaan, you might be overreacting. Just a bit." He said carefully.

"Am I?" Runaan turned the full force of that glare on him, and Ram just took a breath through his nose and stared him down.

"Yes," He said patiently. "It's a tiny island, and we're the only ones stupid enough to be out in the storm. No one else is here, and a lightning storm is hardly going to harm a storm dragon. I sincerely doubt it will harm Callum either so long as he stays close to Zym. And Callum is plenty old enough to take a walk by himself. If he wants to take a walk in the rain, let him take a walk in the rain."

"And if you're wrong?" Runaan countered. "If we're not the only ones here? You're right, it's an island - but that means others could approach from any direction, and it isn't so small that we can see everything. Any human eyes would be enough to condemn us."

"I'll go after them." Andromeda volunteered with a sigh, and they both looked at her. "I'll tail them enough to make sure no one else is about, but Runaan, Ram is right. Callum is more than old enough to just want to take a walk by himself, and so long as they aren't attacked, he and Zym will be fine together."

Runaan pursed his lips and sighed through his nose. "Very well. I will -"

"You should stay here with your own cub," She said pointedly, cutting him off with a stern look that had even Ram's back straightening.

The tone took even Runaan by surprise and he raised his eyebrows at her. "Is that so?" He asked, audibly bemused.

"You've spent more than enough time with Callum over the last few days we've spent running," Andromeda said more softly, and tilted her head meaningfully towards Rayla around Runaan. "Perhaps your daughter could use some of your time to herself, too."

Runaan blinked down at her and then turned to look at Rayla. Ram followed his gaze, interested to see Rayla looking as caught out and uncomfortable as her father. He huffed internally. What was wrong with these two? Every time they seemed to be making progress something happened and they ended up awkward again.

He supposed it was little of his business, but still. He couldn't help but feel a bit nosy when he was stuck in close quarters with them all the time.

"Very well," Runaan said reluctantly, something loosening in his shoulders. "Be careful, Andromeda. Call for help if anything happens."

"I'll call if I need you," Andromeda promised, and slipped off the ship, heedless of the rain soaking her hair and clothes.

Ram was privately grateful she had helped him talk Runaan down, and volunteered to go alone, as he didn't particularly want to wander the damned island getting soaked to the bone himself. His hair was just at an annoying length where it dripped insistently into his eyes as it got wet.

"No sense staying up here in the rain then," Callisto said blandly. "I'm goin' back below, and if anyone else has sense, they'll follow me - or move about enough that they don't catch cold." They didn't hesitate in retreating back below deck, and Ram chuckled as he followed on their heels, Skor a few steps behind.

Runaan and Rayla hung back, and he sincerely hoped they would have a proper conversation in the meantime.

 

Rayla's hands were clenched like she was nervous and she wasn't meeting his eyes. Runaan sighed slowly and pulled her over under the shelter of the stairs, though they didn't follow the others into the rooms below. He had to pause to think about how to start, though, because -

He couldn't say he wasn't angry, this time. He was upset with her for allowing Callum and Zym to leave her sight, alone and unprotected. Certainly, the storm was unlikely to cause them any harm, but if they were spotted . . .

She knew that. He knew she knew that. She hadn't considered it an option because Villads had said no one else was stupid enough to sail in this weather, and perhaps he was right, but there was always a chance. The guilt ate away at her, visibly, as her shoulders hunched and she dug her fingers into her own arms.

Would it even help if he scolded her?

Skor had paused at the bottom of the stairs and looked back at them now. He met Runaan's gaze pointedly and said, roughly, with a gesture at Rayla, "I can say it in front of her or I can say it to you alone, but I've somethin' to say before you speak to her."

Startled by this sudden push into his space, Runaan blinked at his old friend and looked from him to Rayla and back. Rayla looked as confused as he felt, but he saw no reason she shouldn't hear whatever Skor had to say. It wasn't about her - or her fate - or Skor wouldn't have bothered asking.

Taking their silence as an answer, Skor growled, "Callum is fourteen."

Runaan frowned. "And?"

Skor's eyes narrowed as he glared back at Runaan. "Rayla. Is fifteen. It isn't fair to expect her to keep a handle on a child her own age. Particularly if you can't do it, as a father."

Runaan twitched involuntarily as the words cut, but though he grimaced, he couldn't argue with the point. As high of a standard as he held Rayla to -

It was perspective that he sorely needed, as much as it stung, so he crushed his instinctive resentment and nodded stiffly to his friend. ". . . Thank you."

Skor's eyes flickered to Rayla and back and he nodded too before retreating below.

Rayla remained stiff at Runaan's side and when he looked down at her she was side eyeing him. He sighed deeply and rubbed his face, tiredly. "He is right," He said softly. "I am . . . sorry for placing the responsibility for Callum's choices on your shoulders. What happened was not your doing, and expecting you to prevent it - even if I consider you far more physically capable - was unfair."

"Life - and duty - isn't about being fair," Rayla said, just as softly, and he winced as he heard the echo of his own voice in her more hesitant tone. "It's about doing what you're meant to do for those around you."

Runaan closed his eyes and sighed into his own hands. "Rayla . . . it is more complicated than that, and you know it."

"You never act like it's more complicated than that," She argued. "It's always duty first with you! And when I fail -" She broke off and scowled at the floor. "You've always taught me t' do better," She said stiffly. "Isn't that what you said the morning after we left Katolis? That I needed to show you I could do better? But I can't! It's like I can't do anythin' right ever since we turned back! I dropped the egg, I nearly got killed at the Nexus, now I've lost Callum and Zym -"

"Rayla," Runaan started, and she just kept going even as he turned fully to face her in concern.

"- an' I don't care what Skor said, I could've stopped him, I just didn't think - he talked me into - I just thought it would be okay, but I didn't even consider we might not be alone, I just feel stupid-"

"Rayla!" Runaan snapped and she abruptly broke off to look up at him with wide eyes that cut into his heart almost as much as her shaky rant had done. "Rayla," He said again, more gently, and took her hands to steady them. "Do you trust me to be honest with you, darling?" He settled for asking first.

Rayla nodded silently.

"I won't lie to you and say that there was no problem with Callum wandering off alone with Azymondias." Runaan said, and squeezed her hands when Rayla looked down. "But. Skor was right in saying it wasn't reasonable to expect you to handle it on your own. I have confidence in your ability to overpower the boy, don't doubt that, but you should not have to. You are both old enough to make your own mistakes and not be held responsible for one another."

Rayla's hands flexed in his and she looked up at him under her brows, shoulders still stuff. "But I should have come to get you to begin with, is that it?" She asked, and he couldn't tell if her tone was defiant or defeated - he just knew he hated hearing it from her. "Ye don't trust me enough to handle things on my own."

"It isn't-" Runaan broke off with a frustrated noise and let go of one of her hands to rub his face, at a loss for how to get through to her.

Ethari had always been better at it than he was, but he was safe at home and they were a thousand miles away across a river of lava and an inland sea.

"Why don't you trust me?" He asked roughly instead of trying to argue the sense into her, aware by now that she would just meet him stubbornness for stubbornness.

The question seemed to take her by surprise as she did a bit of a double take and frowned back. "I do," She protested, but her tone was weak.

"You don't." Runaan said evenly, though it made something in his soul shrivel to see that she couldn't meet his eyes - that his half-believed guess had been true. "Not enough to ask me for help. Not enough to believe me when I tell you you have nothing to prove. Not enough to depend on me as you deserve to depend on me. So what can I do, Rayla? I've told you a thousand times what I need from you. Tell me what you need from me, because Moon knows I've yet to guess it."

Rayla stared at him, obviously a bit shaken by his words, and after a minute her face crumpled just a bit and she looked away, taking a shaky breath. "I'm not - I'm old enough to be an assassin," She said, clearly trying for firm. "I shouldn't need you like that anymore. I shouldn't have t' depend on anyone. Callisto doesn't!"

"Callisto put a braid in Skor's hair and pretends no one will miss them when their duty inevitably kills them," Runaan countered, bluntly, and watched her wince, and he softened his tone to continue. "There are elves at home who will miss you, darling."

She closed her eyes and hunched her shoulders for a moment. "I'm sorry." She said instead of answering him.

He couldn't even be too annoyed. It was all too obvious she was just turning his own methods back on him by changing the subject. She had learned this from him. Still . . . "For?"

She looked at him through the corner of her eye again and grimaced. "For how I talked to you at the Nexus." She said quietly. "I was . . . cruel. An' I've felt bad about it but I didn't know how t' say anythin' until . . . you asked what I needed." She shrugged one shoulder awkwardly.

When had she been - ?

Okay, Dad.

Ah, yes. The biting sarcasm in her tone when she called him dad - the fact that she hadn't called him that since then.

"I tried not to take it personally," He told her honestly. "I know you were . . . under stress at the time."

"We've all been stressed for weeks," Rayla countered and shifted to squeeze his hand back. "I'm sorry. I just . . . it slipped out because I was frustrated, I felt like you were tellin' me to back off again, that I was still a baby an' not good enough, and I - I don't need . . . I don't know what I need." She said, frustrated, and poked at his palm as if it would give her answers.

Where had this frustration she had with being too young come from? He had thought it his own fault, as Ram had warned him, calling her an assassin but having to back off from it when he admitted she wasn't ready, but this seemed to run deeper than that.

Or perhaps he was just deluding himself, because it didn't have to be long for something to affect her deeply.

"You just . . ." Rayla trailed off, looking down at their hands. "It felt like when I was . . . really little, when - when it wasn't you teachin' me things. You were tellin' me off again, an' I was already mad, so . . ."

"Rayla . . ." Runaan breathed slowly and closed his eyes against the bitter memory of his former friend. "I can't change what the Ghosts did to you. But I can promise you I won't repeat their mistakes. As much as I will not abandon my duty to our people or to the dragons, I have a duty to you, too, Rayla. I agreed to take it on when you were eight, and I have no intention of changing my mind now."

"Except on what I'm actually capable of." Rayla countered, and ah, there it was, the real crux of the issue to make Runaan wince.

"I am sorry, Rayla." He repeated. "But I stand by that decision. I can promise you I won't change my mind about caring for you, I can promise you to be as reliable as I can be, but I can still be wrong, darling. And I'm sorry it hurt you so badly, but I was. You promised me you would give this - give me - another chance, yet it seems you're pushing yourself harder than ever."

Rayla's shoulders were hunched in and when she looked up it was with the sort of expression that made his heart crumple with how upset she was though her eyes were only damp. "I just - I want ye to be proud of me but it seems like all I ever do is mess up."

"Rayla -" Runaan took one hand free to ruffle her hair very gently. "I am proud of you. I am proud of your kind heart. I am proud of your skills. I am proud of your love, your loyalty, your compassion, your determination, and a thousand other things. I am not disappointed that you failed to do a task I never should have asked of you in the first place - and I don't mean the guard in Katolis, this time. I mean what just happened with Callum today. I still make mistakes. You need to stop taking responsibility for them."

Rayla searched his eyes for a minute and then nodded quietly and shuffled closer to lean on his side. He wrapped his arm around her in a hug. "I'm still gonna try," She admitted without looking up at him. "But I'm probably gonna mess it up."

"That's what we're here for, my little blade." Runaan said softly. "We're a team. You aren't meant to do this on your own. None of us are. That's why I get upset when you try."

Rayla cuddled more firmly into his side and nodded. "Oh."

She didn't seem to have more of an answer this time, and Runaan just hoped that it meant she was actually internalizing the advice.

 

Chapter 39: Sky Mage

Summary:

Callum has an adventure in the rain, and Zym helps him unlock something no human has unlocked before. Then they have to explain that to everyone else.

Zym trilled with interest, looking over Callum's shoulder, and Callum looked down at him curiously. "Is somebody following us, buddy?" He asked, the skin on the back of his neck prickling, and he abruptly turned around to look.

To his surprise, Andromeda was making no effort to conceal herself, and she raised her hands in greeting when he saw her. "Runaan thought it best you weren't completely alone," She said by way of explanation. "We talked him down from sending everyone after you, but I thought I would let you know I'm about if you run into anything."

Callum's shoulders slumped a little. "I really need to get a little space for this, Andromeda. I know it's not important to you guys, but it's important to me."

She gave him a kind look and shrugged one shoulder. "While we may not think what you're trying is possible, needing to confirm it for yourself can be important." She said gently. "Anyway, I'm not concerned about you in the storm as long as you're with Zym. I'll just be trying to stay in earshot in case you run into something else, all right?"

Relaxing a bit, Callum nodded. "Thanks, Andromeda."

She nodded and backed off a little more, letting the boys move ahead of her. They were headed for a rather muddy hill without much cover, but at least they'd be easy to keep track of without disturbing Callum's meditation.

It was more difficult than she'd expected to keep her distance when she saw Callum slip on the way up the hill, especially when it took the boy a minute to get up. A few stepscloser were enough to hear Callum begin to rant, and he sat up, and she realized he was fine, just - upset. So she stayed back as he turned around and he and Zym scurried in the other direction.

She tailed them easily enough through the forest to the windmill she hadn't seen before. A spark of worry went through her at the sight of it - Villads had assured them that no one manned the island anymore as it didn't get enough visitors, but the building still seemed to be fairly intact. Still, she saw no evidence of anyone else outside, and the doors and windows hung conspicuously open as if blown that way with no one to fix them.

Fortunately, Callum didn't try to enter the building. Instead, he went for the ladder outside of it. He was going for he roof, near a metal rod that seemed to be attracting the lightning to it. She couldn't see very well what was happening so far above, but she didn't need to - with Zym alongside him there was no reason the lightning should harm the boy.

Andromeda opted to perch in a tree rather than on the muddy ground. The bark was wet too, but at least she wasn't sitting in a puddle. She kept a wary eye mostly on the ground around the windmill, just in case they weren't alone, and in case the boys decided to descend, and folded her knees close to her chest to rest her chin on them.

Privately, for all she'd agreed that a set of eyes to back them up was a good idea, the real reason she'd wanted to do this herself was needing a bit of space. With the other elves around her need to touch and cuddle in the absence of her mate was nearly suffocating. It didn't feel any better, really, to be alone, but at least she could sulk and miss Elyrin in peace.

She had only come because Runaan asked her to. He had known her plans to stay home and start a family this year; she'd agreed to help Rayla, and now . . . now everything was different, and she still felt sick over it. She'd forgiven her friend and she was dedicated to this now, but it was taking so much longer than planned.

She could have been home. Wrapped up in Elyrin's arms, hoping by now to have a cub on the way. She missed him so much it hurt, everything in her aching to be filled with him. Taking care of the children was a welcome distraction, a welcome ease from her symptoms, but she couldn't completely shake her need as it struck her like a fever.

The cold rain water helped, a little. It brought her temperature down, and she kept her eyes on the ground by the windmill.

An echoing crash shocked her off her tree branch and her heart stopped as the roof the boys were sitting on vanished in the cloud the lightning had produced. She couldn't tell if it were debris or smoke. "Callum!"

Andromeda dropped from the tree without a thought and raced for the windmill. Terror shot through her veins as she wondered what damage had been done to the roof - the lightning wouldn't harm Azymondias but a broken plank - at his age? It could kill him! How could she have let them go somewhere so -

The roof was intact when she made it up the ladder. Mud was splattered across the roof but there seemed to be no serious damage to the place she'd thought exploded; still her heart didn't stop racing until she saw both young princes sprawled across the part of the roof she stood upon.

Callum said something she couldn't hear over the rain and rolled up onto his knees to check on Azymondias, who sat up and shook himself with a little chirp. Her shoulders dropped with relief as she realized they were both okay.

"I get it!" Callum crowed, as if following up on what he'd said to Zym, jumping to his feet with a victorious fist in the air. "Aspero!" He drew the rune in the air and Andromeda couldn't quite comprehend what she was seeing for a moment before he blew, and -

Wind rushed so powerfully in front of him that he blew some of the mud and debris from the roof, and little Azymondias had to dig his claws into it to keep from being moved. The dragon trilled happily and Andromeda stared, only vaguely aware that her mouth was open when the rain fell into it.

Callum turned to see her and his eyes widened. He grinned and scooped Zym up to run over to her. "Andromeda! Did you see it? Zym called down lightning, and I got it! He was trying to show me how to connect to the Sky Primal, and I got it! I understand it! I can do sky magic again!"

"I . . . I saw," Andromeda said faintly, eyes wide as she stared down at the boy. "I don't know how, but - you can, you did," She felt a laugh bubbling up from her chest in sheer disbelief and relief, and when Callum bounced again she hugged him on impulse.

Luckily for her, Callum just hugged her back, vibrating with excitement. "Let's go back to the ship! We need to tell the others!" He said and gave her arm a tug when she let him down, rushing towards the ladder.

They did - though how they were going to explain this Andromeda didn't have the faintest idea.

 

Ezran perked up at the sound of his brother's voice from outside. The storm had abated, and he had napped for a while and awoken curled up against the warmth of Callisto's leg. The elf had given him a reassuring smile and a wink when he sat up, embarrassed at cuddling someone without permission in his sleep, and hadn't let him even begin to apologize.

The two of them hurried up to the deck to join the other elves, who were already awake and above. Ezran had to stretch a bit to see over the railing of the ship and he brightened seeing his brother start running towards the shore with Zym around his shoulders. Andromeda chased them and Ezran laughed, darting around the adult elves - Rayla on his heels - to run and meet them at the end of the dock.

By the time Callum and Andromeda arrived the others had joined them and Ezran bounced, caught up in Callum's breathless excitement. "Callum! What happened?"

"I did it!" Callum crowed. "It's all thanks to Zym - Zym and Dad - but I did it, I connected to the Sky arcanum!"

"Callum . . ." Runaan began with a furrow of his brows, and Ezran's smile fell a little bit with concern too.

"No, Runaan, it's true," Andromeda said, and Ezran blinked over at her to see her eyes still wide with disbelief. "I saw it with my own eyes. He cast the wind spell again."

"In the middle of a storm? Wind could have come from anywhere," Ram said hesitantly.

Callum bounced on his toes a little and grinned at them all. He drew one of the symbols from before in the air and Ezran frowned. "Isn't that the -?"

"Fulminis!"

Lightning from the dissipating clouds joined the arc jetting from Callum's spell and between the two, the rock he was pointing at exploded into dust. Ezran's jaw dropped and he blinked at the remains of the rock in surprise. He grinned as soon as he got muscle back in his jaw. "Callum! That's great!"

"How did -?" Runaan started but broke off, blinking in confusion in a way that didn't seem to do justice to the flabbergasted expressions of the other elves. His eyes were where the expressions really showed, Ezran had noticed, but it was hard to see them from this close so far below his eye level.

"I've been thinking about the sky a lot since we left the Moon Nexus," Callum said, beaming. "And I - I was reading, and I got so close, so when we went out in the storm, I felt it, I was so close! I was talking to Zym about it and it seemed like he understood me-"

"He understands us," Ezran broke in, as Zym chirped an agreement.

"Right," Callum said excitedly. "And I think he called down some lightning, like he was showing me how, and I felt it. I know how he was doing it, so I just - I did the same thing!"

"Uh, Callum," Rayla interrupted urgently, eyes wide. "Villads can hear ye."

Ezran's heart froze for a moment and he looked over at the pirate in sudden panic. Villads, seemingly sensing their eyes on him as Berto fluttered, shrugged. "Oh! What? Ye think I didn't know you all were elves?"

Callisto made an unsurprised noise. "I had a feeling. What gave me away?"

"Oh, yaren't as subtle as ya think ya are." Villads said brightly. "Also, ya got in that fistfight on the deck and hit your head on the mast, and ya know -" He lifted his hat to knock on his own head. "Smooth skulls don't usually get stuck in wood."

The elf started to wince and hum an agreement and then seemed to start at the end of it, ears turning pink. "Oh, I forgot about - wait, stuck? You never told me I got stuck!"

"Oh, aye, didn't wanna embarrass ya."

"Oh, that explains why they were dulled," Callisto realized aloud, eyes wide and mouth covered with a hand.

Ezran couldn't help giggling at the mental image of Callisto getting stuck by the horns in the mast, and their mortified expression now that it was revealed to them. His amusement seemed shared by most, though Skor was tempering his snickers by patting Callisto's shoulder and Andromeda was hiding her mouth behind her hand as if that hid how her eyes sparkled and shoulders shook.

Runaan's reply was more dry and sympathetic. "I can't throw stones. At least for you it was a fight."

"Mm. Thanks," Callisto started and then broke off again to look at him in abject confusion. "Wait, what the hell does that mean?"

"You don't want to know." Skor said flatly though his mouth was twisting up at the corners as he rolled his eyes.

Villads tilted his head as Ezran frowned in bafflement. "Ya know what? I respect it." The pirate said.

"I don't," Andromeda deadpanned, and she was giving Runaan an exasperated look when Ezran looked to her. "No one needed to hear that."

"Well, clearly only three of you understood it," Runaan replied tiredly. "And we're going to keep it that way, because three of you are too young and you-" He gestured to Callisto - "If you don't know, he's right, you don't want to know. More importantly right now is the fact that we now have a young mage on our hands."

Ram cleared his throat, and Ezran gave up, redirecting onto Callum's discovery with them. "Right. A sky mage too young to be practicing magic without a master, and none of us are sky mages."

"But I was already doing magic," Callum pointed out. "With the Primal Stone. It's just that now I can do it on my own!"

The elves exchanged glances above Ezran's had and he had a sneaking suspicion - and he flattered himself he was probably correct - that there was far more to the difference between a Primal Stone and an arcanum than that.

"Which means now you're drawing magic from your own core," Ram explained, in an overly patient tone. "And until we find where your limits are, you have to be much more careful."

Callum frowned. "How can you tell where your limits are?" He asked. "You guys aren't sky mages, but some of you have magic, right?"

"The arcanum is an energy source," Runaan said slowly. "A resource like energy or strength that one can exercise or keep stagnant, but does not go away completely. Many creatures have an arcanum, though your . . . sudden access to one does leave me with more questions about their nature."

"What happens if you use too much magic, then?" Ezran asked with a frown. "If it's like other energy - it makes you tired?"

Ram nodded. "That'll be your first sign it's too much."

Runaan made a slightly disagreeable noise. "Perhaps. For some, the first sign may be a sensation of a pull, as if a spell is a string wrapped around your arcanum - wherever you may feel it, as people may feel it in different places - trying to pull it from you."

Callum looked from Zym to Runaan and asked, reasonably in Ezran's opinion, "Where do you feel your arcanum? Or - wait, is that too personal?"

"No," Runaan snorted. "Though it doesn't really matter, either. I feel mine in my chest, on my right as my heart beats on my left. My . . . hm. Others may feel it in their hands."

Ram cleared his throat and shrugged a bit. "I feel mine in my head."

"That's because you think too much," Rayla taunted.

"You're one to talk," Ram shot back, and Ezran giggled as they made faces at each other. "What about you, little blade?"

"Don't call me that." She wrinkled her nose at him. "You're not my dad. I feel mine in my heart."

"I think mine is in my spine," Andromeda said thoughtfully. "I'm not much of a mage, but any elf can feel our arcanum - and any - well. Any like us know a magical form that keeps us more aware of it."

Ezran peeked over at Skor and Callisto curiously. Callisto looked thoughtful, but he wasn't sure what to make of the almost . . . nostalgic? But something worse than that? expression on Skor's face. He brushed his fingers over an old white scar on his throat and rasped, "Mine was - is - in my throat. What's left of it."

"My horns," Callisto finally said with a thoughtful tilt of their head. "Dull, but strong, connected but defensive. Above and behind me, a bit." They were the one who raised their eyebrows at Callum. "What about you, lad? If you've managed to dig up a connection to an arcanum - where do you feel yours?"

Callum looked down thoughtfully. "My chest," He said. "The right side, like Runaan was saying, I think."

"There are . . . idle theories," Andromeda began. "About the meaning of where one feels their arcanum-"

"There's never been anything conclusively proven about that and you know it," Ram said impatiently. "Don't start when the boy's just barely found out he even has one."

"What theories?" Ezran asked, his interest piqued by the similarity between his brother and Runaan, of all elves - he would have expected Rayla, but Runaan was weird. He wanted to know more about it!

"Now look what you've done," Rayla deadpanned at her friend. "You've got Ezran thinkin' about it."

Runaan cleared his throat to get their attention. "Never mind that. Ram . . . get to work on that Draconic notebook you had started. Focus on terms for the weather, it seems we'll need those. Callum . . . just try to be restrained with your magic until you feel out your limits. None of us are sky mages - if anything were to happen, we won't be able to come to your rescue."

Callisto grunted. "When we get to Xadia we should find the boy a teacher."

"We'll worry about that after we worry about Azymondias."

Zym chirped, and Ezran nodded and relayed what he had to say to Runaan. "He kind of likes Zym better."

Runaan blinked at him and then the young dragon. "Well. Zym, I suppose."

Zym chirped and this time it was bright enough that Ezran was pretty sure everyone could tell he was pleased with this result. He grinned in response too.

"And no spells if you don't know the finishing word," Ram said quickly to Callum as they returned to the boat. "And definitely don't cast that lightning spell on our very flammable ride to the other side of the Bay."

Callum paled as Ezran scooped Zym up. "Yeah, I can see how that would be a bad idea."

"Aye," Villads put in, less pointedly that Ezran might have expected. "I'd also like to be gettin' home to me lovely wife! An' I'd ruther not be stuck on an island with the lot of you. Eh, no offense."

"None taken." Callisto assured him dryly.

Ezran ran up in step with his brother and smiled up at him. "This is great, Callum." He said, weirdly proud of Callum's accomplishment. "I knew you could do it. I always knew you were special too."

Callum blinked down at him in surprise and then grinned back, hugging him one-armed around the shoulders. "Thanks, Ez."

Chapter 40: Enough

Summary:

Rayla has a couple of deep conversations - with their new friend, and then with an old one.

Notes:

Brace yourselves.

This particular chapter comes with a content warning much like the Grief chapter. We delve into Rayla's abandonment issues pretty hard here, and we get a pretty rough flashback scene of Runaan and Skor dealing with something as well. It's not worse than the show has already shown, but fair warning - this is a heavy one.

"So what do you do for a livin'?" Villads' question came as somewhat of a surprise. Most of the other elves were below deck, seeking shelter from the biting sun, but Rayla had remained above to get some space from them all . . . and to test herself against the water, a little bit.

"I'm an assassin," She replied without thinking, with a little bit of pride - honestly, if he knew they were elves it shouldn't be a surprise.

He burst out laughing, which wasn't exactly the reaction she'd been expecting, and her smile faded as his laughter went on. She remained coldly silent. She narrowed her eyes, attempting to match the air of sheer intimidation that settled around Runaan's shoulders so easily when he so much as raised an otherwise expressionless eyebrow.

Something of it must have worked, or at least Villads realized he'd misread the situation, because he abruptly stopped laughing. "Oh, you're not jokin'." He said aloud, sounding startled. He didn't turn, but she supposed it wouldn't do much good when he couldn't see her anyway.

She sat down on the crates behind him, her attempt at intimidation falling off all too easily as she sighed. "Well, I'm supposed to be an assassin," She amended. "But I've never actually, y'know. Killed anyone."

Villads made a considering, sympathetic noise. She wondered briefly if he'd ever killed anyone, a bit morosely. "Well, maybe someday!" He cheered her brightly. "Never give up on your dreams!"

Rayla couldn't help but chuckle; at least he didn't seem bothered knowing she was probably going to . . . that she'd been asked to kill others of his own kind. "Thanks for the encouragement. But the truth is . . ." She trailed off for a moment and stared out at the water, shame, uncertainty, and anxiety warring in her chest. "I'm not sure that bein' an assassin is my dream after all."

"Ohh." Villads hummed, and more thoughtfully, asked her, "So then, what is your dream?"

"Ugh. I wish I knew." She dropped her head onto her arms with a groan.

This mission had been everything she wanted it to be. It had been a chance to prove to Ethari that she could follow in Runaan's footsteps. A chance to prove to Runaan that he was right about her. A chance to redeem herself in the eyes of the village, to fight back against the shame and betrayal of her birth parents.

Then she'd seen that soldier and the terror in his eyes, not prepared for death as she'd always been taught to be, and she couldn't - she couldn't bring herself to kill him. He hadn't done anything but try to protect his own. He wasn't their target. He didn't deserve to die.

Finding Callum instead of Ezran first had been the best mistake that ever could have happened. She was glad for it, as it had meant she had to work for it, that Ezran had had time to take them to the egg and offer them another solution. She had wanted them dead, for the sake of the dragons; she had wanted to complete the mission for all of her own reasons. Saving the egg, though, and sparing the boys, it settled so right in her heart without the bitterness that her killing goal had been tainted with.

Ezran and Zym, as if sensing her bittersweet thoughts about saving them, emerged from below to play. For once they weren't followed; she couldn't blame anyone, the sun was burning hot and they were all used to the deep, ever-present shade of Moonshadow Forest. Moon above, how she missed it.

She got up to let Zym clamber on the crates instead and went to sit on the stairs where there was space to get by her, smiling as they bounced around.

Wasn't this worthy of fighting for? These boys from two different worlds playing so happily together? Saving these other young lives?

"I'm a . . . crazy old man," Villads said slowly from above and behind her at the helm. "But let me share some wisdom, will ye?"

Oh, boy. The elders - Runaan and up, really - in Moonshadow Forest all used that as code for 'let me say something weird and cryptic to make you think yourself in cricles until you figure out what I'm trying to say'. "Ah, why not," Rayla sighed anyway, as at least it did usually . . . eventually make sense. "I love wisdom." For that matter, he was human, they didn't usually seem to speak in riddles like her teachers did. "Bring it."

"Life . . . is like a river."

"Oh, great." Rayla groaned in exasperation. "That's exactly what I was afraid of."

"Ye can't see too far ahead," Villads continued as if she hadn't said anything, at least, rather than reprimanding her. "I can't see at all, a-as I might have mentioned before." She could hear him move and looked up to see him climbing down to sit on the stairs above her, Berto clambering to stay on his shoulder as it changed angles.

"You mentioned." The bird squawked with its creepily intelligent eyes on Rayla rather than its master.

Once settled, Villads continued, gesturing with hands that came to rest on his spread knees. "Ya don't know where the river of life will bend and turn. Ya don't know where it will go at all."

Right, so things were always confusing and unexpected. "How is that supposed to be helpful?" Rayla asked, annoyed. She was already confused and floundering!

Villads' face took her by surprise with its seriousness when he turned it towards the sound of her voice. "Don't try to control where the river goes." He said firmly. "There's one thing you can know an' control -" he pointed at her. "Yourself. Look at yourself. Who are you, Rayla?"

Who was she?

She had been so confident in herself just a few months ago. Rayla, daughter of the Dragonguards Tiadrin and Lain, ward of the Master of Blades Runaan and the Forgemaster Ethari, one of the Silvergrove's most promising and talented young assassins in training. Her life had been mapped out, she'd known precisely what she wanted and how to get it.

But then her parents had fled, and she'd been pushed to the wire, and she'd been too much of a coward to go through with the one bit of those dreams she had left.

"What do ya stand for?"

Was it cowardice or kindness? Runaan had said something about being distressed he'd made her ashamed of her kind heart. Yet kindness and assassination didn't mix well - did they? Runaan had always seemed a kind and caring man, and yet he killed as efficiently as one could. She'd always thought she could keep the same distance, remind herself of what she was killing for and believe in the motion when she took a life.

Ram had advised her to know what she was fighting for. Did she, really?

"Once ya know that, then wherever the river takes ya, you'll be right where you were always meant to be." Villads said sagely.

Rayla looked down to process his words. Who was she? What did she stand for? What did she really want from life?

She was the daughter of the Dragonguard, the Master of Blades, the Forgemaster . . . but she was also the daughter of just Tiadrin and Lain, the foul-mouthed swordswoman and the absent-minded Visionary. She was the daughter of Ethari, the smith who loved the act of creation so much he'd built his life around it, who loved deeply enough to let his husband go fulfill his duty but personally enough he could not do the same. She was the daughter of Runaan, the assassin whose heart was so soft he had taken her as his own in his friends' absence without a moment's hesitation. The assassin who reminded each of his students every day that every life they took had as much meaning, as much love and life and joy and potential as their own, and warned them away if he thought killing would be too easy for them.

What she stood for as an assassin would have been to kill Ezran without waiting, to take the egg and run.

As she watched him play with Zym, she finally accepted that wasn't what she wanted to stand for. It wasn't who she was. Perhaps she couldn't dedicate her life to this the way she had always thought. It should have been a freeing realization but somehow it still sank in her stomach like a stone.

She wondered what Runaan would say. What would he think? She had always looked up to him; her whole life she had expected to follow in his footsteps. Everyone had always told her she could do it - as remarkable as he was she could surpass him one day. She had wanted to do it without the aid of his magic, despite being told she would have a gift for that as well.

What if he was disappointed in her? He had always been so proud when she did something right, when she finally mastered this or that technique, when she succeeded in disarming or besting someone in a spar. He had been disappointed when she failed to kill the guard. What if he didn't . . .

What if he left like her parents had when he realized she wasn't what he thought she would be? What she had promised to be?

 

With night came restlessness. They were all used to operating at night - while the Moonshadow were largely diurnal for convenience, they were all empowered by moonlight. In particular, the Assassins' Guild operated almost entirely at night, and most assassins slept for much of the daylight hours. Ironically, this mission had led them to travel hard more during the light than any of them were truly used to doing.

Most were doing their best to get what sleep they could. Andromeda was curled halfway to a ball, clinging to Ram's arm. The young man seemed to have appointed himself her cuddle toy for her heat, which was kind of adorable in Skor's private opinion. He wasn't going to say it to either of them. Runaan was on his stomach as usual, stretched out with his head down and leaving Skor no illusion he was actually asleep. His breathing wasn't even enough. Callisto had settled between Skor and Ezran, pronouncing themself trapped when the young dragon fell asleep on their leg there.

Rayla had been next to Runaan, as usual, but her rest had been fitful and full of motion. As Skor narrowed his tired eyes at her, she rose from her bedroll and began to sneak away. Runaan didn't move, apparently not concerned about where she could be going.

Not that she could go much of anywhere on the boat, Skor supposed, but he was still curious. Rayla was always the type to isolate when she was upset - she was like Callisto that way, and it was a mechanism Runaan struggled to handle in the best of times. Skor had his own experience with it, from both sides, as he'd struggled with the same instinct for some time after . . .

He ran his tongue over the chip in his fang, left by General amaya's shield when he was sixteen, as a habit as he watched Rayla leave. Something was obviously bothering her. Something beyond what she and Runaan had discussed, it seemed; though he couldn't be sure.

Well, it wasn't as though he was getting any sleep either. Skor rolled out of his bedroll and stalked up to the deck behind her. He found her sitting on the forecastle with her knees drawn up to her chest, staring at the water on the horizon, past the island where they still sat at anchor for the tide to turn in the morning.

Her face was shining like it was perhaps wet, and Skor sat down next to her in silence. He would wait, like he did with Callisto, for her to be willing to talk. She didn't move away at his approach; he could be patient.

For a while they stayed there, the quiet of the night only broken by little hitching breaths from Rayla and the sound of the waves. Her chin was resting on her knees when she asked, very quietly, "Are you still angry with me?"

Hm.

They hadn't spoken alone since . . . he told Runaan to kill her.

Skor shifted his weight a bit and breathed out slowly as he considered his answer. "No." He said finally.

He saw her peek at him out of the corner of her eye and looked up at the moon - a sliver in the sky now, almost new. He had been angry, yes. Rayla's choice had doomed them all, and the safest thing to do would have been to kill her right away. They couldn't have known what she could do, if spared.

He had thought it sentimentality, Runaan's personal love for her that led him to be silent. It had startled him when Callisto was the one to speak for her. Callisto was the least trusting of them all, but they had seen something he hadn't; where the blame truly lay.

Runaan should never have brought her here. They all should have known it from the start. He should have admitted - to more than Andromeda - that he wanted them there to carry her through.

They all should have followed her to make sure the guard was dead.

Each little mistake and misstep leading them down this path until they were all doomed and broken and yet Rayla found another path forward. He still had his doubts about their success. Dragons could be fickle and this plan hinged on the response of a queen who had condemned a child to death for her vengeance.

"We have all made mistakes, little blade." He said softly, finally. "But we aren't here because of our mistakes. We're here because we've been backed into a corner by centuries of war, even when it's gone cold." With a voice as gentle as he could make it with his rasping throat, he finally looked over at her through his hair and added, "It's not a corner you were made for."

Rayla shivered and ducked her head. "Runaan thinks I am."

He tilted his head. "Runaan can be wrong."

Her eyes were sharp when she looked at him, though wet, glittering purple with the magic she'd pushed aside to work for what she wanted. "You think I can't do this? That I can't be an assassin?"

Skor looked at her for a long moment, and really took in who she was. He had been one of her trainers, though not her master, for nearly seven years. He had known her somewhat more loosely even before that.

She would grow up to look like Lain. She still had the baby fat in her cheeks, but she had his sharp jaw, his smoother horns. Her nose was all Tiadrin. Her eyes sparkled with a gift, a blessing of the moon, that she had rejected in order to follow in Runaan's footsteps instead, but he could still see them in her. Though her horns were stained pink like his, though she wore her hair long like his, though she had the pale moontouched brows that neither of her parents did . . . he could see in her the things he'd always admired about them before they left.

Before they spent seven years neglecting the family they left behind. Runaan had defended them at first but as more milestones came and went, as she grew, it became harder and harder to forgive them for just . . . leaving her with him.

He knew they'd had no choice but to leave. Still he wished they had made it clear to Runaan - in a way he could understand - that he did not have to feel guilty for claiming the child they had been forced to abandon. They had known him long enough that they should have known he would never cross that line without being told in very specific words. Runaan did not do well with implied meanings. It made him an excellent illusionist, as he did not get tangled in the illusions and lies that led so many other moon mages to madness and doom, but in matters of the heart, he had always struggled.

Before they left, though, before they made that mistake - for which Skor hadn't quite forgiven them even before their most recent and egregious betrayal - they had been faithful guardians of the forest. Protectors who did not leave it to do bloody favors for the royalty that kept them bound. They were kind. They were mischievous, sometimes, in just the way that made Runaan laugh despite everything. They were doting parents in the eight years they had her, one or the other almost always at Rayla's side. They fought as defenders, unlike the assassins; they wore armor that protected them and fought to survive, to protect.

He couldn't help but think Rayla would have been better off had they stayed. Had she been given the chance to follow in their footsteps, to idolize protectors who fought the way her heart yearned to do.

"You are a protector." He said slowly. "In your heart, no. I don't think you have what it takes to be a weapon. I think you are a shield. A suit of armor. But no, I don't think you're a blade, for all that's what we call you."

Rayla's brows were drawn tight and her eyes were wide and vulnerable. "I just . . . wanted to make him proud. I wanted to prove that I can do what he does. That I can save people."

Skor softened further as he looked at her. "The duty of an assassin," He said, "Is to kill quietly, and specifically. Precision violence to end a conflict quickly, without more bloodshed than necessary. We save the many by killing the few - but it has a cost, Rayla. Those left behind get angrier. More violence follows in our wake."

She looked down towards the deck. "Ram said . . . we do it to serve the dragons. To keep the treaty."

"Yes. In a way. We are at war, Rayla. There are no open battlefields beyond the border but tensions are high and raids are often. Our treaty binds us in service because the Cult of the Blood Moon turned against our own kind, and the other elves, while it raged. We fight for them. We fight quietly because we know the value of what we take. We do not take it lightly. But assassins are no saviors."

"He saved me." Her words were almost too soft to hear.

That awful Blood Moon seven years ago, when the Huntress had arisen again to terrorize the forest. When Runaan had earned his title Master of Blades to go with his role as head of the Guild, by taking her on and surviving. Keeping her hunt a failure. He had not been able to beat her.

Rayla had not been the only life saved that night, not from the Huntress, anyway. A small flock of Skywing elves had needed guides out of the forest to make it safely. Luckily no one had been harmed, except Runaan himself. The scar on his ribs stuck out sharply to this day though others might have faded.

But Rayla hadn't been the Huntress' prey. She had been an obstacle, one that was thrown into a river to drown.

"That," Skor said. "Was Runaan, little one. Not the assassin. Just . . . an elf who loves you." When she looked up he met her gaze. "He fought the Huntress as a killer, yes. But he saved you as a father. An assassin goes for the source of the violence to stop it from spreadin'. What he did for you, what you want to do, is to save the ones left behind."

Her tears spilled over and her shoulders shook. "What if he's disappointed?"

"You think he'll stop loving you?" Skor asked, and she ducked her head, her eyes skittering around before landing on his face again, reminding him of nothing more than Lindir when Runaan had first handed him the shadowcub fifteen years ago, a frightened little thing hissing at every perceived threat.

They had healed together. Now even the shiverspiders that had taken the kitten's family didn't even make Lindir flick an ear, when the two of them were together. Skor trusted the cat to carry him anywhere.

Rayla had been hurt. Like him, when his team had left him, for all he knew why they had done it. For all he agreed with them, for all he should have died and they could not possibly have known he would make it out alive - the pack creature in his core still cried out for help he'd never received.

She wasn't answering him.

"He won't." He told her.

"How can you be so sure?"

He looked up at the stars, focusing again on the waning moon.

"Everyone thought - I never thought they'd leave either, but they left me. An' I know now they didn't have a choice - but they chose anyway! They chose to leave the dragons, so why didn't they - why wasn't I important enough?"

He closed his eyes, wincing at the weight of her pain. Wincing at remembering the last time he had heard those words.

 

"How could he do this?" Runaan demanded, usually steady hands shaking as Skor handed over the horn cuffs and locket he had found in the woods. He had left the horns behind, not wanting to subject Runaan to the gruesome image they had made, the teeth marks that hadn't managed to dent the moonsilver of his cuffs. "How could he -"

"I don't know." He said, throat tight, seeing tears in his friend's eyes. "If it were an accident . . ."

"He wouldn't have left alone unless he planned not to come back," Runaan said, uncharacteristically desperate as he fumbled with the locket.

The complicated latch came open with the ever-protected illusion of Arethis Duskstalker, the former head of the Assassins' Guild, the mother Runaan had never known. This time it faded after a moment, accompanied with a new one; the familiar visage of Reldaar, her husband, the gardener who tended the moonberry bushes and lunabloom trees. He was smiling as though the weight that had followed him through life had faded from his shoulders.

Runaan hit his knees and Skor knelt beside him, letting the metal drop to the ground as his shoulders shook with sobs. He was still healing from his last mission, one that had left him battered and confined to his home until just days ago.

"His friends all said he was never the same after Arethis fell," He tried.

"He and Ethari had finally made peace," Runaan choked out. "I thought - I had thought I would have my father at my wedding, Skor, I - "

Skor's eyes burned and he put an arm around his friend's shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Runaan."

"How could he walk away? How could he leave like there was nothing else -" Runaan made an anguished cry and buried his face in his hands. "Like he had nothing to live for? Why wasn't I important enough?"

 

"Because he knows what it feels like to be left," He finally answered Rayla, heart aching. "To be not enough. He will not do the same to you." He looked down to see her crying, shaking much as Runaan had done all those years ago, and he raised his arm to let her tentatively shuffle under it. As he did he let go of the last of his frustration, the last of his spite, at her mistake.

She was a child who had been hurt.

So was Runaan.

As his throat ached from talking, so was he.

And Callum, grieving three parents, two lost to war, one to an illness.

And Ram, spiteful and wary and wounded.

And Ezran, idealistic but so weighed down by the death that stalked him.

Azymondias, grieving a father he had only known through the barrier of a shell.

Reldaar, even, wounded by the death of his wife in a war she hadn't started.

It went back, and back, and back, to times hazy to even Moonshadow memory.

"Follow your heart, Rayla." He said softly. "You are a savior, not a killer. Runaan kills because he believes it minimizes bloodshed, because that is the price for our freedoms. But he values life as much as you do. It hurts him. It hurts us all - we rationalize, we cope, but we know deep down we have as much blood on our hands know as many of those we kill. We've become monsters to stop the ones that haunt us." He looked down at her and saw her tremble as his own eyes burned. "He will love you, Rayla, if you don't follow his path. He will be proud of you, if you refuse to become the monster the world - and our choice - has made of us."

As a child, she would have argued with him. Vehemently railed against the notion that the assassins were monsters, somewhat of their own making. Her hero worship of Runaan had convinced her they were noble.

They were, in their own way. Runaan stood for nothing less.

But noble hearts with a dark purpose made monsters that felt the pain, but monsters nonetheless.

"Thank you, Skor." She whispered.

Skor scent marked her shoulder and nudged her hair for good measure, leaving enough scent behind that Runaan would understand - he had finally forgiven her. Taken her back completely. "For what it's worth, lass, I'll be proud of you, too. If you keep following that kind heart to forge the path that's meant for you."

She leaned her head on him, careful of her horns - barely sharp enough to be grown, Moon above - and purred softly, almost shy. "Okay."

"Rayla?" He asked after a bit, before she could fall asleep. She made an inquisitive noise. "Do talk to your dad about it. He will need it spelled out for him or he will keep worryin'."

She snorted softly, still a bit wet though she was wiping the tears from her eyes. "I know. An' I will, just . . . not yet."

He accepted this answer with a hum and a hug, and let her doze against his side for a while longer before ushering her back below deck, and delivering her to the bedroll beside Runaan's. By that time, their leader had managed to fall asleep, and only gave a sleepy rumble of acknowledgement when Rayla purred to let him know who she was. Skor returned to his own bedroll and slept deeply, dreaming of all that they had lost . . . and all they had taken.

Notes:

Artwork from the lovely Lithuiwen2016 on tumblr, of the moment in Skor's memory in this chapter. You'll find the original post on their blog here!

Chapter 41: Fire

Summary:

A dragon is spotted in Katolis. Corvus struggles with sympathy. Runaan knows something the others don't.

"What was that?" Rayla asked as Callisto's blood ran cold. "A shadow - in the sky."

"Uh, you're askin' the wrong pirate." Villads said dryly.

"A dragon," Callisto answered when it seemed no one had a reply, their hair standing on end, and they looked over at Runaan. "Why would a dragon be here?" They demanded tensely. "This far over the border?"

At least Runaan looked as tense as they felt, his eyes slightly wide and trained on the shadow of the dragon in the clouds. "Trying to find us," He said, lowly. "I sent word back. It's been days - the shadowhawk has reached the Storm Spire by now. A fast dragon could have made it back to the border. The Queen seeks an explanation."

"And they'll want to take Azymondias back with them." Ram growled. "Which means all we've done for Callum and Ezran . . ."

"Won't amount to anything," Callisto realized aloud when he trailed off.

"We avoid the dragon." Runaan said flatly, though his ears were laid back when Callisto looked at him sharply, aware of the others - Skor, Andromeda, and Ram - doing the same. "If they do not know we are here, no one needs to know we didn't give up the dragonling. If they take Zym and leave us behind, the Queen may be . . . impatient with our decision to spare Ezran."

Right. The whole point of their quest, in saving the human children and keeping them safe - the political gesture of Ezran returning Azymondias to the throne. Callisto grimaced but had to concede the point.

"And if they find us anyway?" Ram asked.

"We deal with that as it comes." Runaan looked over them all, his eyes raking like claws over their skin. "But I trained with, or was the training master for, all of you. If you cannot hide from a single dragon I fear I've failed in that training. Don't disappoint me."

Skor winced, and Callisto wondered what that was about. They shot him a questioning look, and he tilted his head a bit towards Rayla. Her face had gone closed off, much like Runaan's was, and Callisto furrowed their brows, looking between the three of them.

Was she worried about Runaan's approval? Moon only knew what would deprive her of it, after everything they'd been through. He was so insistently proud of her.

"Should we use disguises?" Ram asked with a frown.

"No. I do not know what sort of dragon she's sent - or their experience with magic." Runaan looked up at the sky again with a grimace. "A Primal spell cast too nearby may be too obvious. Keep your heads down and hoods up and we move quickly. The faster we get away from our draconic tracker, the better."

 

"Once we're in town, we can ditch Corvus in jail or something and be done with him." Soren was saying up ahead.

Corvus couldn't even find it in himself to be angry anymore. These two were barely more than kids, and they were idiots besides. Mostly he was exasperated with himself for pitying them enough that he let himself be caught twice after his initial escape.

Claudia mostly ignored her brother's statement. "We're so far off Callum and Ezran's trail now," She lamented.

Heh. Luckily. One of those escapes he'd given them a hell of a chase before Claudia's magic had tripped him up.

"Do you think we can catch up with them?" She asked earnestly.

All too optimistically, Soren replied, "Of course we can! We promised Dad." As if that was all it took to succeed at something.

Corvus remembered being that naive. He hadn't made it to Soren's age with that impression, but then, he'd been raised in the north of Katolis by a trapper and a tanner, not a nobleman in the heart of the capital city. There were bound to be some differences. There was an innocence about Soren that reminded him of his youngest brother, though, still a boy last time he'd visited home. He'd been Callum's age then, he'd be sixteen now.

For now though, Soren was his enemy, and he had only a limited amount of time to escape before he had to deal with a prison cell. That was a lot harder to get out of than ropes on the trail. "You know, I could help you track them," Corvus suggested, keeping his tone light and inviting, schooling his face into something innocent. "If you untie me."

Both teenagers turned to look at him and Soren tugged on the rope as he turned his horse back to approach him. "Oh ho ho no no no no no no no. If I untie you, you're just gonna try and escape. Again."

Keeping his face as soft and innocent as he could, in what Amaya had termed his kitten face, Corvus dropped his eyes submissively from Soren's and pleaded, "No, not this time." He peeked up again. "This time will be different, I promise." He presented his hands to the soldier with his palms spread.

Soren gave him a critical look, but he was visibly moved by Corvus' performance. He shrugged after a minute, humming acquiescence, and reached for the ties. Of course, if Soren had been the only one he had to contend with, Corvus would have been free days ago.

Claudia scoffed audibly. "No!" She snapped at her brother, spreading her hands as if he were an idiot.

He was naive, sure, and Corvus was sort of actively taking advantage of his trusting nature, but he wasn't stupid. Corvus sighed internally at his plan being foiled and was abruptly yanked towards Soren again, jerking his attention back to the soldier. "Hey, hey, hey!" Soren snapped and then leaned down to point at him. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times . . . back to you again."

Corvus squinted at him, unsure if he was serious. Soren just kept glowering at him. Oh, no. This poor kid. "That's not how it goes."

Soren just raised his eyebrows imperiously and repeated, "Shame on you." before straightening up in the saddle and giving Corvus' bindings a yank. He urged his horse into a faster gait that forced Corvus to jog to keep up, out of spite he was sure, and Corvus huffed aloud at it as they headed down into the village.

 

It was clear before they made it quite into the village that something was wrong, though it seemed like neither Claudia nor Soren picked up on it from the eerie silence. Corvus was all too familiar with how the forest went silent around a noticed predator, though, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up from the moment the sounds faded away. The villagers who were out stood around with their backs to their approach, looking to the sky.

Corvus had to squish several pangs of sympathy as Soren vocally struggled with being ignored, and his sister even contributed to it. His eyes were fixed on the sky though, searching out the reason for the villagers' preoccupation, and his heart froze in his chest when he saw it.

The unmistakable silhouette of a dragon.

An adult dragon, from the size of it, though it was hard to gauge how far away it was through the clouds - until it banked back to swoop over the town. Bright red scales covered most of it, highlighted with golds and oranges, fading to black on the legs and belly; Corvus guessed it was a fire dragon. Did all dragons pay their respects to the storm dragon Queen? He had assumed so before, but . . .

Turned out hanging around with elves could be a very educational experience. Xadia wasn't even close to the monolith of magical culture he'd been taught to believe. As an adult he felt a bit foolish for even considering it might be, given how diverse even Katolian humans were, but it was one thing to passively recognize the likelihood of something and to be faced with the reality of it.

If a dragon was here, was it searching for the dragon prince? How far had he actually managed to lead them from the princes and the elves' path? Had he accidentally run them directly towards the escape route?

"And you haven't shot it down yet?"

Oh, shit.

"What are those ballistas for?" Soren asked pointedly, sounding like no one more than Lord Viren for a moment.

"Well, it hasn't attacked us."

Don't do anything stupid, Soren, don't -

"And? It's the enemy. I'm taking command here. Crownguard, I might have mentioned."

Fuck. Corvus let himself be pulled along, Soren seeming to half-forget he was even there, as the soldier handed off his horse and took the stairs two at a time up to the ballista tower. He didn't know why a dragon would be here. What he did know was that attacking it while the peace between Katolis and Xadia still hung on such a slender thread was likely to have much wider ramifications than a single battle.

Also, as the dragon's shadow blocked out a window, he frankly wasn't sure they could actually harm the creature. It was so big even the ballistas would be like arrows, and it flew almost mind-bogglingly quickly.

"Hold on," He warned Soren as they reached the top. "The dragon isn't attacking. It's just trying to intimidate us."

Much like the banther that had given him the scar on his brow when he was seventeen and foolish. He'd been afraid, tried to posture back, and it had spurred the creature into attacking him properly. He'd been very lucky Amaya's patrol was nearby and saved him before he could be mauled completely.

This seemed like a scaled up version of that same conflict, and he worried Soren was about to make the same mistake he had, with no chance of a similar rescue.

"Well then," Soren said with a vicious smirk. "I'll just have to show it that humans won't be intimidated."

The dragon was circling, but it wasn't blowing fire. It wasn't even diving at them like a warning bird. This wasn't even a threat. It was just . . . looking for something.

Probably Azymondias.

As Corvus was yanked along next to a ballista, he urged again, "Soren, please. Don't start a fight you can't finish."

Soren froze for a second, his mouth twisting in a snarl and Corvus' heart sank, realizing he must have said just the wrong thing. Something made Soren scowl further and he finished priming the ballista, swung it to aim, and let it loose in moments.

As Corvus had halfway suspected, the dragon saw it coming in more than enough time and whipped out of the way, sending the bolt crashing through the roof of a building in the village. He winced, hoping no one had been inside, at least on the upper floors. The dragon banked away and shot up into the sky, vanishing quickly into the clouds.

Soren turned back to Corvus and Claudia with a smug grin. "See? Scared it off. Dragon problem solved."

Corvus didn't even get a chance to voice his hesitation before a deafening roar split the sky, echoing off the hills, making the very ground under their feet shake. Corvus bent his knees on instinct as if to flee though he couldn't, shrinking with all the instinct of a creature who knew very well he was prey.

It was an instinct Soren and Claudia didn't seem to share, as they all looked up at the clouds where the dragon had disappeared. The dragon plummeted back down through the clouds at more than double its previous speed, roaring another warning as it barreled through the air towards them.

Corvus hadn't frozen since that banther attack.

He felt frozen now.

 

The dragon's roar woke them all, echoing off the mountains and the walls of the cave where they'd taken shelter. "What the hell happened?" Callisto demanded in low tones as the sound brought them all urgently to the mouth of the cave to look.

"That's not a good sound." Rayla nearly whimpered.

"What's it doing?" Callum demanded. "Why is it attacking that town?"

"I don't know," She answered, stammering, unable to quite believe what she was seeing in the distance. The dragon was unmistakably wreaking terrible fire upon the distant human village.

Runaan was shaking his head, pacing restlessly as he looked out at the destruction. "This doesn't make sense," He hissed. "The Queen knows the prince is alive and the king is dead. This village isn't even a strategic location. There's no reason for her to attack it!"

"The dragon isn't the queen, though." Ram pointed out, though his ears were flattened with uncertainty. "If it was provoked . . . it will react like any distressed animal."

"That's assuming it was provoked," Callum argued. "We don't know what happened. It might have started it!"

"Should we investigate?" Andromeda asked, though her voice was uncertain.

Runaan stared at the horizon and Rayla at his silhouette, her heart clenching as she waited for his orders.

 

"Don't just stand there, get on those ballistas," Soren barked, as Corvus remained frozen between him and Claudia, eyes fixed on the dragon above. The ballista not ten feet from them was already in flames - along with a quarter of town on a single swoop. "It's circling back. Get ready to fire."

It was too fast. The ballistas would never hit it. How could he not see that?

"Fire!"

The dragon banked out of the path of the ballistas as if barely bothered by them and focused its breath on the tower upon which they stood. For a moment Corvus could see the pink inside the beast's mouth before it was lit by flame, and he was certain he was going to die.

Claudia yanking the ropes around his hands pulled him off his feet and out of the path of the fire, and the fall finally jarred him free of his frozen state.

Time seemed to speed back up again and Corvus gasped as he rolled into a seated position. It was as if he'd forgotten to breathe and he caught his breath now, processing his brief brush with death. Fuck. He still couldn't do anything, though he was more aware, and he wasn't sure it was a blessing.

Soren seemed to tower over him when the soldier approached, something hard and cruel on his face, and Corvus looked up at him warily, unsure where this was going.

Soren went for his sword. Claudia cried his name.

Had he dodged death from the dragon just to be executed here? Corvus wondered wildly. "What are you-?" He instinctively brought his hands up to shield his face, even knowing it would do no good.

The sword swung and he felt the tug but it didn't strike his flesh, just cleaving the ropes from his arms. Soren was already turning away when he lowered his hands and looked up in confusion. "I don't understand."

"These people need help." Soren said without turning at first, and his face was closed off when he did. "Get as many as you can to safety."

Corvus didn't question the young man's change of heart, his own heart pounding with the desperate need to get down, out of the dragon's line of fire. He whirled as he scrambled to his feet, not waiting to get feeling back in his hands. He needed to get away from -

From the young man who had just made the same mistake he had when he was that age, at a much higher cost. He paused before leaving sight of him, looking back at the pair, zeroing in on Soren's anxious expression. He nodded firmly to accept the order, and couldn't help but add - "Don't get yourself killed."

He didn't wait to hear Soren's response, knowing no one could truly promise that. Still he couldn't help but feel some level of sympathy.

Soren was young, a bit naive, and so convinced he was stupid he made stupid decisions even though Corvus could see he could be a brilliant strategist if he just trusted his own wisdom a little more. He wasn't inherently awful. He had compassion in a way that his sister sorely lacked.

As Corvus rattled down the stairs as fast as he could, he sorely hoped the boy wouldn't get himself killed here.

Though, he didn't have a clue how to handle the several ton dragon bearing down on them, so maybe asking that someone so determined to fight would live was being a little optimistic.

 

"They hit it!" Rayla cried in horror.

The dragon's roar, this time of pain, echoed off the hillsides eerily, and its flight path broke, wavering through the air as if it were stumbling. As she bore down on them ice struck through Runaan's heart. He ducked with the others but his gaze met hers as she swooped over and he knew she had seen them.

As he had recognized her.

Pyrrah.

Winglead of the Sunfire flight, talon of the Dragon Queen.

She had most certainly been sent to find them.

And she knew exactly where they were.

Chapter 42: And Fury

Summary:

Rayla argues they should rescue the dragon. For once, Runaan is the one who hesitates. He doesn't get his way.

Ezran!" Rayla's cry made his gaze shoot towards the noise and Runaan swore as he saw the boy bolting down the path toward the dragon. He dropped down the cliff without a moment's thought, sliding along its face until he hit the bottom just steps behind Ezran.

Fuck, that hurt more than it had in his twenties.

He managed to scoop Ezran up around the waist and pull the boy off his feet, though, flattening them both against the cliff.

"We have to go help her!" Ezran fought him uncharacteristically hard, making him grunt from the force of a kick to his ribs.

Fuck, that one also hurt more than it had before the Huntress-

"She is a fully grown dragon," He growled anyway. "And what happens to her is not our primary concern."

"This feels wrong," Rayla argued from above him. "We can't just abandon her!"

"Yes, we can," He bit out through his teeth, adjusting his grip on Ezran to be more secure. "That isn't just any dragon - she is one of the Queen's talons, doubtless sent here after us."

He carried Ezran back up to the cave in an uncompromising grip and didn't put him down until the boy stopped fighting him. "We stay hidden." He growled.

"Why?" Rayla demanded. "You're just gonna let her die because she might disrupt our plan? We don't know what she's done! Does she deserve to die?"

Runaan grit his teeth and rounded on her. "No one deserves death," He snapped bluntly. "But this deal offered by the human princes promises a peace to end a war that has burned hot and cold for a thousand years! This mission will save countless lives! I will not risk them all for one!"

Rayla bristled, not backing down for a moment. "What happened to all life has value?" She spat back. "All life is precious? Do we just let her die because she might be a problem for us later?"

"Her blood is not on our hands. We didn't kill her."

"Does it make a difference if we could save her and we don't?" Rayla's voice shot up so quickly it cracked with her rage. "I'm goin' out there."

Runaan stepped in her way. "Rayla," He growled in a warning tone, his protection of her once again warring with his dedication - to the duty she had placed him on, no less! "It is too great a risk!"

She bared her fangs at him and he was so startled by her show of violence that he couldn't think to respond for a moment before she dodged around him. "Well, I'm goin' to do the right thing," She snapped over her shoulder. "It might not be the right thing for everyone, but it's the right thing for me to do."

"Rayla, believe me, I know why this strikes your heart," He started, whirling to try and stop her again. "But Azymondias-"

"Someone once taught me that all life was precious," Rayla interrupted with a hard glare at him. "Life is sacred. I found Zym, I gave us another chance. I'm goin' to give that dragon another chance at life too. You can't stop me."

"Rayla!"

She leaped to a nearby tree and Runaan stayed where he was, seething, hands clenching at his sides as he watched her go.

A moment of heavy silence enveloped the cave. Skor was the one who broke it, his armor shifting softly as he came to stand within Runaan's vision. He tilted his head in a question Runaan wasn't sure he could answer.

"Just once," He found himself saying instead, exhaustion and worry overwhelming his tone, "I wish she would do as she's told."

"No, you don't," Andromeda said with a wry tone, and she smiled sympathetically when he looked at her. "She wouldn't be Rayla if she did."

Skor cleared his throat. "You were just like her at that age."

The reminder rankled and Runaan scowled at him. "Not in enemy territory I wasn't," He growled, prickling, but - well.

He'd always thought he knew better. He was usually right, to be fair, when he opted to ignore or override his elders - but he supposed being angry at Rayla was something like shooting at his own windows.

"We can't let her do this alone," Callum said, determined, standing up. He shrank a little when Runaan turned his glower on him, but he soon squared his shoulders and stood up even under the look. "She could die out there! I know you're worried about the mission, and this dragon might try to take Zym, but Rayla's out there on her own now. We can't just leave her."

Runaan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What could he do?

The mission was the most important thing. Everything had gone sideways - they didn't have the bindings anymore, but the physical ribbons weren't their only shackles. If Pyrrah took Zym, he and his people would still be fine - if they just returned home. Zubeia would likely be relieved enough to overlook their failure to follow her exact instructions, since the king was dead regardless.

Callum and Ezran, however, would likely be killed by whoever had taken their father's life.

Their chance at peace would be forfeit.

Could he place Rayla's life above the countless lives they were looking to save?

Callisto spoke up in the silence. "We should help her."

He snapped his gaze up to the other elf in question, noting Ram and Skor doing the same - Andromeda was just out of his eyeline now.

Callisto was staring at the stone in front of them on the ground. "She's right. Life is sacred. Life is precious. The more we fight like this the more blood we shed. We'll leave Zym and Ezran here." They looked up to meet Runaan's gaze. "We don't let her take Zym without Ezran. But we're more than what the dragons have made of us. We're not attack dogs. We value life? We should take the chance to save it. Eke out what little freedom we have on this leash and do what our kind are meant to do. We're stewards of death. This isn't one that has to happen."

Runaan held the look for a minute. He had been taught, as an assassin, that ruthlessness saved them later grief. That by ending a life it prevented them from seeking further vengeance against those he fought for.

Who was he really fighting for?

The dragons, to earn their mercy?

His people?

His people were stewards of death, yes - and stewards of life. Of change, of love, of reality itself.

"Take this chance. Let's not let them chain us anymore." Callisto urged.

Ram made an unpleasant noise, lips pulling up in a sneer, but he hopped off his rock and rolled his shoulders with something steely flashing in his maroon eyes. "I'm in."

"We'll help her." Andromeda agreed. "Just say the word, Runaan."

He looked to Skor, whose eyes were surprisingly soft, appraising. Skor nodded silently.

Runaan took another breath and straightened his shoulders. "Skor, stay here. You're one of our strongest defenders, and Azymondias and Ezran will need that. The rest of you . . . come. We'll go find them."

 

Andromeda couldn't deny she'd been surprised when Callisto spoke up, but their words hit her in her core. Stewards of death indeed. Part of the balance of Moonshadow form was remembering the balance of life and death and weighing the potential for love against the potential for violence; but so often their bloody task kept them bound to one side of that scale.

Callisto had been right to remind them that they were more than just assassins. They were also Moonshadow, above all else, and it was time they added more weight to the other side of the scale.

Elyrin would be proud of her. Though it meant she was risking her life - it was on a mission of mercy. He had always appreciated that part of what she did, loving her for her mission of preservation and accepting the violence her form of it came with. It felt . . . right, to be saving something directly this time. This risk didn't weigh on her soul as the others did.

By the time they arrived the humans had already done so, and Andromeda grimaced as she saw the chains wrapped around the dragon's frame. "Is she dead?" Callum asked in a soft tone of dread - he'd caught up while they were scoping the scene.

"No," Runaan breathed, eyes fixed ahead on the dragon. "Look before her nose. The grass is moving. She breathes."

That was a miniscule detail. Andromeda had to squint and watch for a moment to catch how the grass there moved differently from the way the natural breeze and the soldiers moving around were ruffling it. She supposed that was why he was the best of them.

"Rayla's already there," Ram reported. "She's hidden by one of the wings. Seems she's already cut the ropes free, but the chains . . ."

Runaan swore under his breath. "We haven't much time then."

"None," Andromeda said, heart leaping to her throat as she spotted Rayla standing up. Soren was already facing off with her, unsurprised - he must have seen her before Andromeda did.

His voice carried well enough for them all to hear even from the bushes. "A dead dragon and a dead elf all in one day. Everything's coming up Soren."

The swordsman moved first. Rayla met him halfway and they began trading blows; for a minute it seemed the other soldiers weren't going to interfere, and Andromeda paused before stepping in. It seemed Runaan had noticed the same thing, for though he stiffened with swords in hand, he also paused to look.

The hesitation didn't last after Soren kicked Rayla, sending the girl flying, rolling almost into the dragon's side. The soldiers began to converge on her and Runaan didn't bother to speak an order, instead bursting from the shadows without preamble. Like at the Banther Lodge, he showed enough restraint not to outright kill the soldier he cut down on his way, though they might never walk without pain again. Andromeda took her cue from him and bashed the hilt of her sickles against the helm of the soldiers she took, letting them crumple to the ground likely to awaken later.

"That's where the rest of them were!" Claudia cried like a swear.

Rayla was wheezing like the wind had been knocked out of her when she leaped onto the dragon's back and pulled the chains up, striking them with her butterfly blades. They failed to break.

"Oooh, yeah, that's the thing about chains? They're made of metal. Hard to cut." Soren sneered.

"I'm not backin' down," Rayla hissed, as much to Runaan as to Soren, and Andromeda ducked under a pikeman and slid towards her, opting not to address the tension between them.

Instead, she called out, "Rayla! Go for the stakes!" And used her sickle to pull one from the ground. It was a move that wouldn't work for any of the others, but the hooks on her blades and Rayla's would catch and yank precisely the way they needed to go. "Let the others worry about the soldiers!"

"Do it," Runaan barked before Rayla could question it. "Callisto, get that ballista out of her side."

"If it's too deep it might be holdin' her together," Callisto objected. "Pullin' it out might just make her bleed t' death!"

"If she can't get airborne she dies here anyway. With it gone she's a fighting chance." Runaan replied sharply, with a glance at the dragon's still largely unresponsive head.

Andromeda guessed that Callisto was obeying, but she was rather too occupied defending herself as a pair of soldiers descended on her to stop her from pulling the stakes. She hoped Rayla was helping pull them, because she was being delayed more than she expected.

Rain generally didn't bother her, but in the mud created by the dragon's crash landing it made her footing precarious. The soldiers had heavier boots with built-in grip that made them slide less than Andromeda's more flexible shoes. She was sliding too much.

If she could kill them it would be easier, but Andromeda was complying with the implied instruction in Runaan's choice. This was a mission of mercy, after all. She grit her teeth and refrained from beheading the soldier when she had a chance, instead ducking to pull their feet from under them and roll out of the way of the other's sword.

Bouncing away from their attacks again, she managed to pull another stake and get enough space to see Rayla was following her example. Rayla's range was just a tad longer with the curve of her blades, too, and she was quicker. On the other side of the dragon, Runaan and Soren faced off while Ram tried to defend Callisto.

They were struggling, their only working arm finding it difficult to pull the ballista bolt. They would need help.

Andromeda ducked on instinct and bolted for the next stake, praying that getting the dragon free and the relief of the rain would be enough to wake her. This was a tighter corner than she had expected it to be. They were trained as a team of six, with ruthless efficiency - taking one of their number and placing limits on their abilities made things difficult.

"Try not to kill them all, we need one to lead us to Callum and Ezran!" Claudia called out.

"They don't have to," Callum's voice called from the edge of the clearing.

Fuck, no! Andromeda slipped in her haste to turn and look, falling heavily on her hip and grunting with pain. A halberd flew towards her and she rolled out of the way just in time to try and run towards Callum. "Callum, don't!" She called, not even sure what he was warning him - just knowing he needed to get away from the battlefield before they caused any more bloodshed.

Callum drew the sigil in the air and called, "Aspero!"

His next breath was so powerful it knocked the unprepared humans off their feet. Andromeda braced in time, as did most of the other elves - Callisto fell to one side against the dragon, but it pulled the ballista from the dragon's side in the motion. Seeing an opportunity, she lunged for the loose chains and hooked them in her sickles, yanking them off the dragon and throwing them at the prone human soldiers to tangle them down.

"Callum?" Claudia gasped.

"Get up!" Rayla cried, shoving at the dragon's head.

Soren recovered his feet faster than the other soldiers, and while Runaan was distracted with his sister, he had reacted to Rayla. Andromeda's heart jumped to her throat when she saw the sword point held to Rayla's. "Congratulations," Soren sneered. "Really! You did everything you could to save a monster that torched a town full of innocent people."

Yeah, that was a tad ironic, for their mission of mercy idea, but Andromeda could hardly consider that when her friend could die in a second. Rayla's own blades were folded at her back to let her move, so she couldn't even defend herself effectively.

"But it didn't even matter. You freed a dead dragon."

"No," Runaan growled, as steam began to rise from the dragon's frame. "We didn't." He lunged forward as Soren looked at him, taking advantage of the sword still pointed at Rayla to bodily tackle the human soldier against the dragon's shoulder.

Andromeda winced instinctively, imagining Runaan's full weight slamming into her chest the way he'd just done to Soren. She couldn't blame the boy for dropping his sword. Dual blades were held crossed over the soldier's throat.

She couldn't hear what Runaan said then, but when the dragon's head began to rise he jumped off of Soren to Rayla's side. "Retreat!" He barked.

Soren recovered his sword in rolling away from the dragon as she rose to her feet and gave a fierce shriek. She bore down on Soren himself. The soldiers around him fled from the dragon but zeroed in on the other available enemy - the elves, and she found herself caught in an all-out skirmish.

This wasn't what she had trained for.

Everything was a blur.

Strike. Pull. Try not to be deadly.

Cut too deep, that soldier could bleed out.

Don't fall, don't slip, keep your footing.

Duck. Dodge.

Run.

Don't slip.

Strike.

Slipped, fuck, rolling, try to get to her feet.

Thunder cracked.

The dragon shrieked again.

Andromeda made it free of the knot of soldiers as their resolve broke again, more fleeing as the dragon swiped at some of them on her way back to Soren.

Her heart stopped when Zym bounced into the clearing without warning, apparently just delighting in the storm and freezing when he saw the other dragon. He whimpered when he saw her, shrinking, and her attention was caught. She bit back the fire for Soren and turned to look.

"Zym!" Ezran cried, and Andromeda didn't know how much more her blood pressure could take.

To her surprise, the adult dragon just sniffed at Zym and visibly did a double take, bouncing on her paws and staring down at him for a moment. The aggression faded completely from her posture as Ezran bolted to the dragonling's side and picked him up. She didn't turn back to the soldiers, nor did she take the dragonling with her when she flapped her wings and took to the air.

"The little dragon's coming with me," Claudia's voice distorted with dark magic that made the hair on Andromeda's neck stand up, and she ran for Ezran at the same time as the mage.

"Claudia!" Soren choked from where he'd been left against a stone.

When the cry caused his sister to be distracted, Andromeda grabbed the children and ran. She didn't look back. The others soon followed and it seemed Claudia didn't give chase.

They had done it. They had saved the dragon, kept Zym, kept Ezran, and they hadn't killed anyone to do it!

Though, Andromeda wondered how in the world the boys had gotten away from Skor.

Chapter 43: Change of Plans

Summary:

Corvus catches up, and he and Skor have a heart-to-heart. Then, Skor and Callisto make a difficult decision.

The approach through the trees was subtle as things went, but hardly as stealthy as a Moonshadow at night. Skor narrowed his yes at the movement, twitching his ears to try and catch any noise to indicate what it was. The path seemed purposeful. Too purposeful to be an animal wandering.

He wouldn't leave Ezran and Azymondias unguarded. He glanced over at them without moving his head, comforted by the sight of them playing together safe deeper in the cave. They were out of sight. He should be too, or at least difficult to see as he sat still against the pale mossy rock of the cliff face, just inside the shadow of the cave mouth.

The form that emerged from the trees had not even been on the list of ones he was expecting. He felt the relief drop through his toes as he recognized Corvus - somewhat disheveled, breathing hard, but clearly zeroed in on their hiding place. Another glance at the boys confirmed they still hadn't noticed until Skor stood up.

"Corvus." A lifetime in a forest full of shiverspiders meant Skor knew well how to project his voice without making too much noise, summoning the tracker's attention directly to the cave. "Make it quick."

Corvus' gaze jerked up to meet him, scanning the cliff face for a moment before actually finding him when he spoke again. He apparently took the order as a challenge, pulling out his weapon to swing at the cliff. The hooks were surprisingly effective climbing tools, propelling him almost directly up to them.

"Where are the others?" The tracker demanded immediately, brows drawn with worry. "Soren antagonized the dragon, he must have shot it down. You all need to get out of here, and fast."

Skor shook his head. "Rayla wouldn't leave the dragon. It's . . . hm." How to summarize Callisto's powerful message for someone who lacked the cultural context to feel their connection to it? "We chose to save her." He settled on after a moment, shaking his head a bit. "It's complicated."

Corvus tilted his head, looking him in the eyes a tad more perceptively than Skor had ever given him credit for. "I get it." The tracker said instead, quieter, and rubbed the back of his head. "I'm fine, for what it's worth. Had a headache for a day, but I'm fine."

"Good. Now get away from the entrance before anyone sees you." Skor ushered him further into the shelter of the cave, smiling crookedly when Corvus bowed to little Ezran - who looked a bit discomforted by the motion - and greeted the young ones.

"What's their plan?" Corvus asked after a few minutes, letting the boys go back to their game as he came to sit by Skor.

Skor shook his head. "Rayla took off by herself." He grunted. "Couldn't plan until they got there. Hard to tell what's happenin' in the rain." He could hear clashing of metal in the distance and it wasn't hard to gather that stealth had failed them.

Had they planned for it?

It wasn't a risk he could see Runaan really planning for, but they might have been forced to it if the dragon was being threatened.

"If they do get the dragon free, what's next?" Corvus asked.

"With luck, she leaves, and we're back where we started before you caught up to us." Skor turned to look at him. It wasn't likely the soldiers were still combing the woods now that they had found the dragon. "We keep Ezran and Azymondias together. That's the important thing. We can't stop her from just takin' them if she chooses. That's a fight we can't win."

Corvus looked thoughtful, and Skor didn't miss the way his dark eyes flicked down to the telltale scars on his throat. "Your people seem to accept those odds and fight anyway more often than not."

"Do we?" Skor couldn't stop the scoff, guilt still pulling at his soul for how he'd left the man behind.

"Taking the princes with you, knowing you'd lose limbs but trying anyway, all for a dream of an end to a war that's lasted a thousand years?" Corvus raised his eyebrows. "Those aren't strong odds."

"Perhaps." Skor sighed deep in his chest and turned his whole frame to face the tracker, folding his legs to look him in the face. "I didn't believe they'd last, at first. It was worth the time we'd buy, but . . ."

"Why not?"

"Children start out innocent," Skor said softly. "They start out kind, or close enough to it. They grow into their prejudices later. Once they were home, I didn't believe this would last."

Corvus searched his expression. "What changed your mind?"

"Why did you turn around?" Skor asked instead, his apology dying in his throat before he could speak it. He had to know.

Corvus blinked and seemed to take a moment to recall what he meant. "They would have killed you." He said after the pause was over. "I know you don't fear death, but you were needed. You didn't deserve to -"

"No one deserves to die." Skor interrupted, and saw the tracker's brows shoot up. He attempted a twisted little smile and sighed. "I know, ironic from a killer, isn't it? But the arcanum of the moon is rooted in life and in death. They're not opposites. They're part of the same cycle, a balance we have tae keep within. Life is precious. Life is sacred. We don't end it because it deserves to end - we end it to save the other lives that victim is threatenin'. At least, that's the philosophy that we use to sleep at night."

Corvus mulled it over for a minute, his eyes going a bit unfocused as he considered the information. He gave a slow nod. "I understand. Amaya's never put it like that, but I know she shares the philosophy of killing to protect her people, at least."

"She could stand to make it quicker." Skor rasped. He owed Corvus. Corvus had earned his respect. Corvus' master was a whole other equation and his life would never be the same because of her.

Corvus grimaced. "I'd like to say and think that she tries. But I've never seen her in battle against people, really - she's kept me mostly away from the fighting until now."

"Why?" Skor asked, genuinely surprised by this notion. Amaya didn't seem like the overprotective sort, nor did she resemble Corvus in any way that made him suspect they were family.

"I met her when I was seventeen," Corvus admitted with a wry smile. "She rescued me from a banther I'd egged into attacking me. My skills are better suited to finding things than fighting them, anyway."

Skor cracked a smile in spite of himself. Youths goading beasts of the forest into attacking them was a universal experience, it seemed. He'd never been that reckless himself, but he could think of more than a few incidents where he'd had to step in with prides of Mooncubs just old enough to wander without supervision.

A number of them thanks to Rayla's pride, too. Altari had been a bit of a trickster since he could walk, and while it served him well now that he'd grown up, he'd been a menace to look after as a child. Between Rayla and Hadan's recklessness and Sirius and Vela's loyalty the five of them had gotten into an inordinate amount of trouble.

Before he could answer, a shriek caught his attention from outside and both their gazes snapped towards the battlefield. There wasn't much they could see past the trees, but Skor's eyes widened at the sight of what looked like smoke - steam - rising from the dragon's crash landing site. She was awake, doubtless, but what -

Movement in the trees closer caught his attention and he swore, suddenly looking deeper into the cave past Corvus and finding both princes missing. "Fuck."

Corvus followed his gaze and they both shot to their feet. "How did they slip past us?" Corvus sputtered.

"That boy is sneakier than a three-eyed nightfox." Skor grumbled as they both skidded down the path as quickly as possible. He didn't wait for Corvus, trusting this time that the human would be on his heels, and they both ran for the battlefield, as it was certain that was where Ezran and Azymondias were going.

He'd never slipped up like this watching children before, and a part of him was instinctively angry at himself for the mistake. The more rational part reminded him that Ezran was no ordinary child, he'd never watched a dragon before, and it had been nearly fifteen years since he took a proper rotation with the Mooncubs to practice. It was a mistake.

He just hoped it wouldn't prove too costly.

 

Skor and Corvus had met them partway back to the cave, and just turned back to run with them. No one had wasted breath on trying to talk while they fled, though Runaan had darted over to pluck Ezran from Andromeda's arms so she wouldn't have to carry both children. It allowed her to pick up the pace a bit and Callisto's anxiety eased as they sped up.

Once back in the safety of the cave Runaan rounded on Skor and Ezran both. "What happened?"

Skor grimaced. "I was distracted." He admitted, and Callisto winced at the familiarity of it. Their broken arm ached in sympathy.

"It was my fault," Corvus interrupted, stepping partially between them, and Callisto blinked at his bravery. "I tracked you all down and found the cave, and Skor was busy updating me on the situation. We were talking too much and must have covered up the noise of the boys sneaking out."

Ezran made an offended face. "It was Zym's idea." He grumbled. "But I knew you wouldn't let us, so we had to sneak."

"You didn't," Runaan said with a frown. "What you should have done is remained in safety."

"It worked out fine," Ezran argued. "Zym even saved Soren by talking to that other dragon! He told her we were helping him get home, so she left to tell his mom about it."

Callisto really still didn't know how the boy was understanding dragons, but they supposed they couldn't really contest it. Runaan groaned softly and finally put the boy down, rubbing the markings on his face tiredly. ". . . Let us hope she listens." was all he said in response. "In the meantime, we should move while we have the time."

"I'm not coming with you." Corvus said, to everyone's surprise, and Callisto frowned at him, noting how still Skor had gone in response to the news. The tracker shook his head. "I heard things from Soren and Claudia while they had me tied up. Something's going on back in Katolis. I don't know how they're holding Gren, but Soren let it slip that they are. Lord Viren's doing something they don't want me to know about. I have to go back and find out what happened to Gren and what Viren's doing to the kingdom while Ezran's gone."

Runaan frowned softly but nodded with a glance at Ezran and Callum. "You're certain Lord Viren is the traitor?"

Corvus shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what's happening. He might just be making a power grab now that Katolis is unstable. That's why I have to go back to find out. Like you said, it won't be safe for Callum and Ezran to go home until we know the truth. Someone's got to go back to find it."

"You shouldn't go alone." Skor growled, and Callisto looked at him with a sinking feeling in their chest as he stared at the ground in front of him. "The fact is we don't know what's goin' on. You should have backup." He looked up, but not to Corvus - to Runaan.

Ram interrupted with a growl. "And who do you suggest go with him?" He asked. "We don't exactly have any other human companions to spare."

"I'll stay." Skor said without a beat's hesitation.

Andromeda pursed her lips. "You'll need disguises."

"I know the spell well enough." Skor's mouth twisted in a wry smile. "I'm reserved, not inexperienced."

Runaan shook his head with resignation. "Corvus won't be enough. You can't stay in an unstable human kingdom by yourself."

"I'll stay." Callisto found themself saying without really thinking about it, but they stood by it when Runaan looked at them. "Once we get back to Xadia we'll need t' pick up the pace," They reminded, reasoning it out. "With my arm out of commission I'll have a harder time ridin', an' it'll be dicey to get to the Storm Spire. I'll slow ye down. If Skor an' I stay here, we'll be able to work on the human side of this chaos while you all work on the Xadian side."

The excuse about their arm was a somewhat thin one - while riding a moonstrider would be dangerous without both hands to rein them in, most shadowpaws would be fine to be handled one-handed. They didn't want to leave Skor alone, however, and he and Corvus were right that someone needed to investigate in Katolis, and shouldn't do so alone. If anyone was to stay behind, it should be them, as their arm was a hindrance; the Xadian team was far more likely to run into trouble that required a fight, so long as the Katolis team remained subtle and in hiding to find their answers.

Ram made a discontented noise. "I have more experience with politics," He said reluctantly. "If anyone should stay behind with Skor and Corvus, it should be me."

"We're more likely to run into a fight in Xadia." Runaan countered, still looking at Callisto until he finished speaking with a heavy sigh. "Very well. Corvus, are you amenable to this?"

Though he looked startled, Corvus nodded. "Yes. I'm used to working alone, but . . . this isn't a situation I've handled before, so I'll gladly accept the backup."

"Then Skor and Callisto will remain here with you." Runaan's brows were furrowed when he looked at them in spite of his words, though.

As they packed up, Callisto looked up in time to see Runaan before he put a hand on their shoulder. "Be careful." He said gravely, searching their eyes until they noded. "This isn't a typical mission. Your priority is getting out alive, not completing it, understood?"

"Yes, sir." Callisto agreed, standing up enough to incline their head to him, clasping his hand with their good one. "You, too. Without me you're the best healing hand you'll have, on top of havin' to run things. I haven't forgotten about that leg wound."

Runaan winced at the reminder but cracked a faint smile. "I will manage. Worry about your own group, my friend."

He didn't wait for Callisto to affirm their friendship, and though that sat heavy in their heart, so did the knowledge that he cared that much. Callisto let it go, just watching as he moved to say goodbye to Skor.

Skor was a more tactile person than Callisto was, and it showed in their farewell, as Runaan didn't keep the same distance; they hugged without hesitation and Skor bumped his horns against his friend's affectionately. "Be careful." He rasped.

"You as well." Runaan said before they released each other. "Try for the answers you seek, but above everything, stay alive."

"You know we only control so much of that." Skor reminded softly, but he clasped Runaan's arm at the elbow as his friend did the same. "But I'll keep that in mind."

Runaan's smile was grim, but whatever else he had to say, he kept it to himself. He nodded to Corvus without seeking the contact he had with Skor and Callisto. "Be careful." He instructed the tracker anyway, and turned back to his own team as they drew to opposite sides of the cave. "Are we ready?"

"Not yet," Callum said, as Ezran broke away from him to go to Corvus.

The boy seemed to struggle for a moment before just opening his arms for a hug that Corvus knelt to give him, brows drawn with confusion. Once hidden by the gesture, Ezran said, muffled, "Thank you. For going to find out what happened to my dad."

All at once it hit again that this wasn't just a political debate for the human children. It was too easy to forget, from Callisto's perspective, and they winced. This wasn't just the death of a king - this was the death of their father. The only parent they had left.

It was a loss that had driven them apart from their village, relying only on other people who understood their choice. Who had made the same choice to dedicate their life to duty. Ezran seemed to be making an entirely different choice, reaching out more for support, still offering his trust despite everything. Offering his help, despite everything.

Watching him made something in their heart twist painfully and Callisto looked back down at their packs, unable to quite bear it any longer, as the boy said his goodbyes to Corvus. Mercifully, he wasn't as intense when it was their turn, just saying a quiet goodbye and telling them to be careful as Runaan had.

The three of them were ready to go before the larger group, and Callisto didn't look back as they left, though they noticed Skor doing so. He had taken Runaan aside once more before they left to say something no one else could hear, and he still looked troubled, but he didn't explain as they set off, Corvus in the lead. They wouldn't need to bother with disguises until they got some distance in - here, if they ran into trouble, it would be in the form of Claudia and Soren, who would recognize them regardless, so there was no point in wasting the magic.

Despite their insistence on coming with them, a bad feeling settled in the pit of Callisto's stomach as they traveled. They didn't know what they were going back into. This was a complete mystery, and while information gathering wasn't an unfamiliar task - planning an assassination was hardly something one could do blind - this time felt complicated.

After all, last time they'd been in Katolis, everything had gone sloppy and chaotic, and they'd uncovered some uncomfortable details about Xadia's information as well. And that was without witnessing whatever else the dark mage had hidden in his dungeon, though Rayla had said there were more - many more - magical objects down there. Runaan had also mentioned some of them were stolen from the dragons' vault.

Callisto knew better than to completely ignore the sick feeling, but they pushed through it regardless. The only way to clear things up was to go back and find the answers, so that was what they would do.

Hopefully, Runaan's team would make it back through Xadia quickly and without incident. Theirs was the more important task, at least for the moment.

Chapter 44: The Moonstone Path and the Cube

Summary:

The Xadian team arrive at the Moonstone Path and begin to cross. What begins as a harmless lesson in Xadian politics and magic leads into a much more dangerous discussion.

Notes:

Bit of a short chapter this time but it felt nicely contained this way.

The Xadian team made good time to the Moonstone Path. Runaan's soul felt weighed down by the absence of his second in command and closest friend, but he knew they were right. It was best that they try to find answers on this side, and Callisto wasn't wrong about being a liability. He did worry about leaving Skor in the human kingdoms, but . . . he had volunteered. He wouldn't have done so if he wasn't confident he could handle it.

Runaan was used to setting aside his personal feelings for duty. So was Skor. He could trust the man to take care of himself.

Of course, in the meantime, the team it left him with made him feel a tad old. Even Andromeda was nearly ten years his junior, though she stepped up - perhaps unconsciously - in Skor and Callisto's absence to support his authority.

It still felt increasingly like watching Mooncubs ushering his part of the team back to Xadia.

Still, a familiar rush of relief flooded through him at the sight of the Moonstone Path. While he still carried his worries for his friends in Katolis, his own group would soon be safely across the border in Xadia. It wouldn't be long after that before they would be home, however briefly, and the Moon only knew how much he looked forward to -

"One simply walks into Xadia, huh?" Callum asked skeptically as they approached the path.

"Wait!" Rayla pulled the boy back from the edge just in time and Runaan suppressed a tired groan. "There's sort of a trick to it."

Ram seemed to have the idea at the same time as Rayla and they both made stubborn faces at each other, tossing little stones at the floating rocks. Most of the stones impacted sank into the lava, as predicted.

"Not all of the rocks sink that quickly," Rayla said cheerfully. "Some of them will stay on the surface long enough for us to walk across. Those special stones are called the Moonstone Path."

They'd managed to keep from discussing the details too openly deeper in Katolis, but at this point Runaan supposed they were in deep enough that the name was secondary to what else the boys were about to see. He glanced up at the moon in the sky. "As soon as the cloud cover moves, so do we. Direct moonlight will reveal the path, but as soon as the sun rises, all the stones will sink under its light."

"Do you think we can all make it in time?" Andromeda asked, glancing at the children, where Ezran was trying to hide a yawn.

"We have most of the night to spare." Runaan soothed. "We will be fine. Either of us can carry young Ezran if need be, but I do not think we will be pushed to that."

The clouds moved off the moon just then, and Rayla danced out to the fifth stone and turned to bow proudly, grinning at the boys. "Come on!"

"We don't stop until we reach the other side." Runaan reminded seriously as they all followed her. "The Moonstone Path remains above the surface longer than the other stones, but once touched the stones will sink."

"It's a very effective way to block anyone from following us across the path," Ram said blandly.

"It would be a really dangerous way to move a lot of people, though." Callum said, frowning thoughtfully.

Runaan raised a brow at him.

"I was just thinking," The boy explained, seeing his look. "You said the Moonshadow elves fled Katolis across the Weeping Bay to the border, and the way we were taking was the same path as that exodus. How did you make it across back then?"

Ah, he had remembered most of the story, but not - "The dragons had not yet made the Breach." At least, not when it had begun. "Most humans had been driven from Xadia before the crack was formed; it was an . . . easier trip that way, and the decision to make the Breach was driven by Sol Regem and Avizandum, not Luna Tenebris, who was Dragon Queen at the time. She made them wait."

"Luna Tenebris was a moon archdragon," Callum said, as if confirming his memory, and Runaan nodded. "So . . . she was waiting for you? Well, your people - her people - to cross?"

Luna Tenebris had always been a . . . colder queen towards her people than some of the other Archdragons. The Skywing had a particular fondness for Queen Zubeia, and the Sunfire's entire civilization was marked with their reverence for Sol Regem. Luna Tenebris, on the other hand, had been more distant, and her motivations left a mystery to most. "Perhaps."

"The Moonshadow have never been as close with the dragons - even the rare moon dragon - as some other elves with the dragons they share their power with." Ram interrupted with a shrug.

Callum nearly stepped between the rocks and Runaan reacted on instinct, pulling the boy back by his shirt to set him on his feet again. It didn't even make him miss a beat. "Why not? I thought the Dragon King and Queen ruled over all of Xadia."

"Yes," Ram said carefully. "But it's more complicated than that. The Archdragons have their rulers, and it's difficult to argue with a creature that has teeth bigger than you are, a wingspan that blocks out the sun, and the closest thing to the power of a Primal Nexus that exists in living form as an arcanum. But they don't interfere much with mortal societies, by and large - Luna Tenebris had no real hand in Moonshadow civilization on either side of the border. Different cultures view them differently."

Rayla piped up then. "The Sunfire elves have a great reverence for the first ever Dragon King, Sol Regem, the Sun King. The pattern of his horns appears a lot in their architecture, their armor looks like his scales, their jewelry has patterns like his horns - they've even got a Council of Six Horns that advises the queen."

Before the boys could ask, Runaan clarified, "Sol Regem has six horns."

"Are there elves with more than two horns?" Ezran suddenly asked, tilting his head curiously.

"Not usually," Rayla replied.

Ram made a disagreeable noise. "Moonshadow, Sunfire, and Earthblood elves generally only have two. It's not uncommon for Skywing to have up to four, and the Tidebound have an entirely different horn structure than we do. Theirs is more of a symbiotic relationship with coral or shells, and may have as many as they like, I suppose. I've not noticed a pattern. Some who spend more time on land seem to prefer having two corals that mirror a more similar two-horn structure, but others don't seem to care."

"What about the Sky dragons?" Callum pushed the subject back, focused on it still. "They're the ones who are king and queen right now."

"The Sunfire Kingdom respects them, but does not bow to them as they would to Sol Regem," Runaan replied.

"I think Queen Khessa rather dislikes Avizandum, for all the good it does her," Andromeda mused. "She's arrogant enough to grate under his assumption of power over her."

Runaan snorted. "He would do well to remember her line stands with the Archdragons throughout history for a very good reason. She does not have to heed anything he has to say." Turning his attention back to Callum, he answered the question. "As for the Skywing, they have their own respect for their archdragons, but theirs is far less . . . formalized than the Sunfire. It seems to amount to a personal fondness rather than a ceremonial reverence. Though I speak mainly for the caravan traders - I haven't as much experience with the cityfolk of Innean or the Celestials."

"Wait, what are the Celestials?"

A cult. "An . . . isolated sect of Skywing elves who dedicate themselves to the night sky and the study of stars." Runaan said politely.

"The Moonshadow tribes are the only elves who really only have one society anymore," Ram said with a shrug. "With so few left, whatever differing cultures we had have fused. Though that is why some of us sound different than others, as a remnant of times spent apart."

"What about elves with more than one arcanum?" Callum asked curiously, innocently. "Where would they go?"

"There are no elves with more than one arcanum," Runaan said flatly. "Even when bloodlines cross, magic does not. The connection is too deeply ingrained in our souls to forge with more than one source."

Callum frowned. "I thought . . . huh."

Runaan had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach about that, though he could see Ram gearing up to explain more Xadian politics. He held out a hand to stop him and asked, seriously, "Callum . . . why did you assume it was possible for an elf to forge a connection with another arcanum?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Rayla asked, huffing. "If he could forge a connection, why couldn't we? I mean, he's wrong, but it makes sense to me."

Callum shrugged. "I mean, yes, but my stepdad also left me that letter, and he mentioned the cube thing that we got from the Banther Lodge in it. He said it was once owned by a great elven Archmage who was a master of all six Primal Sources."

Suddenly Runaan's skin crawled, his old scars and newly healed wounds lighting up with imagined heat and ice at once. No.

"He said it was called the Key of Aaravos. So I just thought if this Aaravos guy mastered all six, there had to be other elves who had done it too," Callum explained, blissfully unaware of the great danger he had just revealed.

Ram fell dead silent at Runaan's side. Rayla looked back at them with a confused frown, and Andromeda looked unsettled.

Right. Rayla was young, and not yet privy to all of the secrets kept by the Keepers or the Assassins' Guild about Xadia's past. Andromeda knew more, but her interest in the history from three hundred years ago was primarily in the Bloodmoon Massacres and the first assassins. Ram, however, had been trained as a Keeper and likely knew even more about Aaravos than Runaan did.

"Please tell me you still have that cube." Ram said, voice tight, to break the silence that had fallen.

"Huh?" Callum asked, stumbling again, this time righted by Andromeda. "Yeah, it's in my bag. Why?"

"Aaravos," Runaan rumbled, skin still prickling as he glanced up towards the stars, "Is not the name of a mortal elf, Callum. Aaravos is . . . a being much more powerful than your father's story implies."

Ram nudged him. "We shouldn't speak of this under open sky." He growled. "Even imprisoned, he is . . ."

"Right." Runaan agreed with a low huff of breath. "Keep that Key hidden, Callum. We will tell you more safely under the shadows of Moonshadow Forest." It made his skin crawl even more realizing he had brought an artifact of Aaravos into the Moon Nexus, let it wander about there without realizing.

What could it be?

As far as they knew, it just glowed at each Primal energy it came near. But a key? Keys inherently connected to something else - a lock, a map, a door . . . and he dreaded to find out what this key was. It couldn't possibly be the prison - could it?

Not if it belonged to the Archmage - but the king might have been wrong. Then again, how had it come to be in the human kingdoms, and forgotten? Surely the dragons would not have entrusted the Orphan Queen with - "Callum?"

"Yes sir?" Callum was disturbed, deeply so, his back straighter and his tone sharper when he answered, brows furrowed.

Runaan did his best to gentle his own tone in response. "Did the King say anything else about the Key? Where it came from, what it does?"

Callum shook his head. "Not really. He said many people have tried to discover the secrets of the cube, but no one really knows for sure."

Surely, if the Orphan Queen was entrusted with a key to Aaravos' prison, it wouldn't have been forgotten so completely. So if it did belong to the Archmage?

Runaan didn't know what it could possibly unlock, but he had no intention of finding out.

"When we get to the Silvergrove I'm telling my father." Ram said softly, obviously an aside meant for him even as his eyes remained fixed on the path ahead, keeping track of what stones were marked in case more clouds came to obscure their way. "I know you know who Aaravos was, I know who he was, we both know what he did, but my father knows more than either of us. He might know what to do."

For once, Runaan simply nodded, grateful to have the choice taken out of his hands. For all he often failed to see eye-to-eye with Keeper Lyrennus, he valued the man's opinion, and Ram was right. Lyrennus was likely the best equipped elf in Xadia to know what to do about any artifact belonging to the ancient archmage that had killed Queen Aditi, Luna Tenebris, and caused chaos unlike any other in Xadia for so many centuries.

 

Notes:

hehehe.

So let's recap what everyone knows right now:
Us: the whole Aaravos story
Callum: Aaravos was an elven(?) Archmage who mastered all six primal sources but the other elves say he was incredibly dangerous and won't even talk about him under open sky
Runaan: Aaravos was a Startouch mage that wreaked havoc in Xadia for centuries before eventually being revealed by the Orphan Queen, and imprisoned 300 years ago after the deaths of Queens Aditi and Luna Tenebris. Aaravos was also involved with the very first Dark Mage and all dark magic feeds back to him, though he doesn't know why.
Ram: Aaravos was a Startouch mage, and Startouch elves are cosmic beings, who toyed with mortals like puppets on strings until the Orphan Queen uncovered his treachery and the also-immortal dragons imprisoned him. Aaravos taught the first human Dark Magic a thousand years ago, and remains tied to all instances of it.
Lyrennus: Aaravos is a cosmic being called a Startouch "elf" who is also the source of Dark Magic. He holds a vendetta against the dragons and is willing to use mortal lives as pawns in a game against them, some of which was uncovered by the Orphan Queen after the deaths of Queens Aditi and Luna Tenebris, and the other Archdragons succeeded in imprisoning him. He can't be killed.

Chapter 45: Xadia

Summary:

The remaining Dragaang take their first steps into Xadia.

Notes:

I had a whole second half of this chapter started when I realized the whole scene of Callum being amazed at all the magic in Xadia happened BEFORE they glided down into Moonshadow Forest, and I had to set it all aside to get this part done first.

The vibrations in the ground were their first warning. Runaan had gone quiet as conversation continued, and Andromeda's own voice petered out as she noticed him dart ahead, pricking his ears forward as if listening for something. A knot of concern formed in her chest as she slowly noticed the distant echoes of thudding and scraping, rapidly growing louder. Footsteps - heavy, scaled, taloned footsteps, thundering down the canyon towards the Moonstone Path.

Luckily, they were already on a path along the wall of the canyon, not down in the floor of it with no escape. Andromeda and Rayla could climb out, though Andromeda preferred to avoid it, as it would be a greater challenge for the others. Especially Callum and Ezran, who would likely need to be carried, and Zym, who certainly would be. She wasn't sure what they were facing yet, other than that it was large and taloned.

"What's that?" Ezran asked doubtfully from beside her as the steps grew louder.

"Something big," Callum answered, looking considerably more concerned than his brother when Andromeda looked at him.

"Could be a dragon," Rayla suggested cheerfully, and Andromeda chuckled.

"Why would a dragon be walking?" Ram asked as Runaan drew further ahead of them, and Andromeda suspected she was the only one who noticed their leader freeze at whatever he saw.

Her heart dropped to her boots when he spoke back to them, voice sharp and humorless. "Callum, Ezran, get under the ledge. Andromeda, Ram, Rayla, get between them and the passage. Everyone be still and be silent." He ordered.

Runaan darted back to them to block as much of the group as he could, urging them all to bodily press against the human children, hiding them against the ledge. They were still in plain view, but he shushed them at even the slightest noise. The only sound left were their anxious breaths and the little shifts they made against the stone.

Sol Regem stamped around the corner of the gorge with a low growl that nonetheless carried across the canyon. Andromeda held her breath. He didn't seem to notice them at first, continuing his path down the gorge without pause until he had nearly passed them. His shoulder was even with their hiding place when he stopped, raising his great head and sniffing the air openly.

He opened his maw to get a better scent, and Andromeda bit her tongue, her heart racing so fast she nearly worried he could hear it. The dragon obviously scented them. He swung his head back and forth, as if scanning for them, but after one last breath drawn over his tongue he snorted noisily and stormed on down the path with a lash of his tail. It struck the side of the canyon beneath them and made it shake, but it didn't knock anything close to their ledge loose.

Runaan didn't make a sound as he signaled them to move again. He pointed Andromeda to the back of the line and she went, herding the children ahead of her with the hair on the back of her neck prickling. The dragon's steps slowly faded into the distance. Ram and Rayla were directed to the outside, still, blocking Ezran and Callum from the ledge, as Runaan led the way, speeding them up as they got further from earshot.

Only once they could no longer hear the dragon and their path led up into the mountains, the sandy cliff giving way to grassy hillsides, did Andromeda breathe a sigh of relief.

"Who was that?" Callum asked, cautiously, as they slowed down, Runaan signaling them to ease up. "I thought since we're in Xadia we wouldn't have to hide from everyone anymore."

"Not everyone," Runaan said, looking back towards the gorge with his brows drawn with concern. "But that dragon is a different story."

"Sol Regem," Rayla identified him and explained, when Callum opened his mouth to ask, "He lost his eyes in a fight with a dark mage centuries ago, so he hates humans more than most, indiscriminately."

Runaan grunted. "His sight and his flight, crucially. It's good we made it across the Path when we did, or he might have blocked our way into Xadia."

"He's become a symbol of rage and bitterness across Xadia since then," Rayla added helpfully.

"Why didn't he confront us?" Ram asked, frowning deeply. "I'm sure he scented us."

Runaan's eyes landed on Andromeda and she understood the moment he looked at her, though he was polite about it when he answered. "I believe we've shared enough scent with the boys that their human scent was too faint to notice under Andromeda's heat scent. He likely didn't care to involve himself with her."

Andromeda chuckled wryly. "At least this year's heat was good for something." She said flippantly, genuinely comforted by the idea that it had saved these two boys, even if she hadn't gotten to have her own this time.

Runaan twitched at her phrasing, though, and she raised her brows at him. He shook his head minutely and beckoned them on. "Best to continue putting distance between us for now." He said instead, and ushered them all along towards the shortcut back to Moonshadow Forest.

The path led around the spur of the mountain range, following the gorge they had left behind, but this way led to the trees and massive wing seeds they could ride directly down into the forest. It saved them days of travel on foot. Andromeda could admit she wasn't overly fond of the fall, but she was very fond of how quickly it brought her home, and there was an extra spring in her step as they drew in sight of the trees above.

This time tomorrow, she would be in Elyrin's arms, if only for a few hours before they had to resume their journey.

 

Ram had almost forgotten how it felt to relax after the weeks in the human kingdoms. Now that they were past Sol Regem and their next destination was home, he felt more at ease than he had since setting out on the mission to begin with. Sure, there was still the outstanding concern of what Queen Zubeia would do with their news, and the far, far greater concern of what Callum's cube really was, but, well -

It was harder to be consumed by that worry with answers in sight. His father would know what to do. For all they'd had their fights, Ram had always trusted his father to know how to handle times of crisis. He'd always felt safer under the Keeper's roof than alone, no matter how angry they were.

Being back in Xadia, feeling the life and the presence of magic in every step, settled his soul a bit as well.

Besides, it was easy to get distracted by Callum and Ezran's sheer amazement at everything they passed here. They kept darting around to every plant and animal as if even a star squirrel was the most interesting thing they'd ever seen in their lives. The most normal of sunbirds seemed to enthrall little Ezran, and Callum was running around like a child with no attention span.

"They play music!" He cried as they passed a patch of flowers.

"Yep," Rayla said, looking back at him with a snort and a soft smile. "They're melodaisies!"

"They're so pretty!" Ezran beamed.

Their awe had Ram looking about in a different light, suddenly appreciating how very different Xadia was than the human kingdoms - and how amazing it genuinely must be to the mortal boys. He himself had noticed the hum of magic returning to the world around him as they got deeper into Xadia; he'd almost forgotten how . . . faded the human kingdoms felt in comparison. There was something missing there now that the magic had been drained from it.

He couldn't really be annoyed with them for seeing the world the way it was meant to be for the first time. It was . . . sad, in a way. Xadia was, after all, a remnant of the world as it used to be. This was the version of the world that humans had lost - not just by being driven out of it, but by their ancestors abusing it, by dark magic draining it of a natural energy that was meant to infuse everything, even down to -

"Dirt! Magic dirt!" Callum was gesticulating wildly. "Runaan, can't we slow down just a little bit? This place is so amazing! You know, us humans have this phrase, sometimes it's best to stop and smell the roses! Or melodaisies!"

Runaan glanced over his shoulder with a quirked eyebrow. "We're in a hurry."

"Oh, I think we can stop to smell one flower," Rayla said innocently, and Ram immediately caught the overabundance of innocence in her tone and narrowed his eyes - and recognized in the same moment what she was about to do and had to smother a snort.

Runaan seemed to realize as well and just shook his head, turning his back, but Ram had known him long enough to detect a trace of amusement in his tone when he replied, "Don't fall too far behind." and kept going.

Ram, on the other hand, chose to stay back to watch as Rayla offered Callum the flower and surreptitiously stepped back. He kept himself more than a few steps away as well, though, and his face carefully interested. Andromeda was shaking her head but he shushed her.

"Let it happen," He hissed when she opened her mouth to stop Callum from sniffing it.

The flower burst just as they knew it would, letting loose its caustic scent that had Callum coughing and spitting it out. "What was that?" He asked incredulously.

It was a classic and Ram laughed openly and patted the boy on the shoulder on the way by. "We've all been tricked at least once," He said. "Call it a rite of passage."

"They go by many names," Rayla informed him cheerily. "Some call them peristinkles, flatu-lillies, or toot-lips! But at the end of the day, it's a fart flower." Ram could hear her beaming about it.

"Wait, Zym, no!" Ezran bolted to the side and just managed to tackle the little dragon and keep him from leaping into a patch of peristinkles. "Callum just got tricked, I don't want you to stink too." The boy scolded with a wrinkled nose. "I know they don't smell that bad to you, but they do to us!"

"How do they not smell that bad?" Callum asked incredulously.

"Dragons have a better sense of smell than us," Ezran replied. "They're like dogs! They smell so much more than us that they don't really see things as smelling bad, just interesting."

"I guess that explains why the dogs always roll in awful stuff outside." Callum admitted, helping his brother and Zym to their feet as they continued on. "But - I mean, other than the fart flowers, can't we slow down to look at anything? I - I know you said it's dangerous," This was directed at both Ram and Runaan as they slowly caught up to the archer. "So I haven't taken the cube out, but it's still reacting to things. It's glowing and humming at everything here!"

Rayla rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "That's Xadia," She said with a shrug, and plucked a star plum from a nearby tree to offer it to Zym. "You're home now, Zym." She told him sincerely.

Abruptly reminding Ram just how far they still had to go. "Well, closer to it than he's been in some time," He cautioned aloud. "He's not home until we get him a few territories further east to the Storm Spire."

"At least he's back in Xadia," She reasoned.

"It's not-" Ram stopped when he felt the hand on his arm, and gave Andromeda a questioning look.

She just shook her head as the children popped up and continued to trail after their still-quiet leader. "Let it go, Ram. Let them take comfort in making this milestone." She said firmly. "We're almost home."

There was something deeply aching in her eyes and Ram let his stress go with a sigh and put an arm around her shoulders to hug her briefly. "This time tomorrow." He said softly. "We'll be with our loved ones again."

He hadn't let himself think too much about his own homesickness until now, not since they'd so nearly lost it all at the Moon Nexus. Truly though - this time tomorrow, he'd be safely in his father's den again. He'd be able to sleep easy for the first time since they'd left home.

Father would know what to do about Aaravos, even if he didn't agree with the assassins' decision regarding Ezran and Zym. Every step this mission seemed to get bigger. It was a mission for vengeance, and then it was for rescue, and then it was for restoration, and then it was for the truth, and now, after everything, when they were still risking their lives and their homes for a chance at peace, assuming things went well back in Katolis when it was over - they found out the Fallen Star was somehow linked to the whole thing.

It was all just too convenient, and Ram hoped his father could lay rest to some of their questions when they arrived home.

Chapter 46: Entering Moonshadow Forest

Summary:

A fall, a meadow, and an apology.

"Whoa!" Callum couldn't repress the exclamation as they came upon the root of a massive tree - the largest tree he'd ever seen in his life, by far. "This must be the biggest tree in the world! What do you call it?"

Rayla looked back at him with that peculiar smile that made her eyes scrunch up and her lips curl a bit like she was trying to suppress it. "A tree," She replied teasingly. "Watch your step!"

He looked down what felt like just in time to stop from walking off the cliff, though when he recovered himself he recognized he was still several steps away. He'd learned by now honestly that if he did step off a dangerous edge this close to Runaan he had very little to worry about, though, as the large elf seemed to have no qualms about just grabbing him by the jacket and pulling him back to safety. "Whoa!" He looked down both sides of the canyon.

Ezran voiced his concern before he could, holding Zym up to look over the edge. The little dragon chirped with concern. "How are we going to get down?"

"To go down, we have to go up!" Rayla pointed up the tree as Ram twirled a pair of daggers into his hands. "Y' can climb, can't ye?"

"Of course," Callum said defensively, but as Ram and Rayla used their weapons to bounce up the tree nearly as fast as he could run, his shoulders slumped. He still tried, gamely, to follow them with no blades to dig into the wood, scrabbling at knots and barely-there handholds.

Andromeda's chuckle was smothered but he still heard it, and he gave her a pout over his shoulder in time to see her kneel next to Ezran. "I'll give you a ride up if you like," She offered.

"Thank you," Ezran said with a sigh of relief, and nudged Zym off his shoulders as Bait groaned. "Bait says thanks too."

"Of course," Andromeda said with a glimmer of a smile and hiked them both up on her back. Ezran grabbed onto her horns for support and she pulled out her sickles, hopping up the tree with as much ease as Rayla. Zym dug his little claws into the wood and did the same.

Callum was acutely aware of Runaan still waiting behind him as he tried his best to climb, making slow but steady progress upward. The older elf made a mighty leap that carried him to a branch that was low, yet still far above where Callum was attempting to climb, and paused to look back at him as Rayla dropped back down.

"Do you need help?" Runaan asked with a spark of amusement pulling the corner of his mouth up.

Slumping against the tree with a huff, Callum nodded, not too proud to admit it. He'd made some progress! But he was seriously slowing them all down. "Yes please."

"I'll get him," Rayla volunteered.

Runaan raised his eyebrows at her in silence.

"I can't carry him, but I can help," Rayla stressed the word impatiently, staring back stubbornly at her father.

Runaan let loose a breath through his nose and shook his head. "Be quick." He instructed, and leaped further into the tree, climbing with his bare hands just as Callum was doing - but also, jumping a lot further than Callum had any hope of jumping.

Rayla came back down where she could reach Callum and offered him her hand. "Come on, I'll teach ye." She said, and Callum noticed a sparkle in her pretty purple eyes as he took her hand - cool as night to the touch though it was broad daylight.

"Thanks," He said, vaguely noticing his own breath coming short and reasoning that his attempts to climb were tiring him out.

Rayla beamed, and he grinned as it scrunched her little nose like a cat, and she dug her other butterfly blade into the wood above them. When she had one free, she handed it to him. From there she showed him how to use the blade as an extra hand and foothold, guiding Callum from branch to branch. She pushed him up more than once when he couldn't quite reach, shockingly strong for her slender frame, though she grunted with effort dragging him up from above when she had to do that.

Thanks to her, it really didn't take him long to scale the tree up to where the other elves waited with Ezran. He was barely even panting when he got there. The others were all climbing out onto what looked like giant wooden wings attached to balls. He didn't at first understand what they were.

"Climb onto a seed," Runaan ordered. "Both of you."

"Won't we go down faster if we have more weight?" Rayla asked.

"Yes," He said patiently, "if you'd like to plummet directly down onto the side of the mountain, overburdening a seed would be the way. Pair off. Rayla and Callum on one. Ram, take Azymondias, Andromeda, take Ezran. I'll manage alone."

The other elves did as he said, and Callum climbed out onto one of the massive seeds with Rayla and sat down there. "What do we do now?" He asked.

Runaan paused to slice a deep cut through the stem that held Ram's seed to the tree before finding his own. Ram thanked him without a shred of sarcasm and Callum understood with a rush of fear and excitement at once.

"Hod on," Rayla said cheerfully, brandishing her own swords, and with a hack or two from her smaller blades, they were falling - flying - twirling through the air. Callum cried out and for a terrifying weightless moment thought he was going to fall off the seed entirely, but the twirling motion swept him right back onto it and directly into Rayla's body. She let loose a surprised noise but mercifully didn't laugh, and as Callum clung to her in instinctive terror, she wrapped her arms and legs around him too.

Callum hid his face in her shoulder and waited out the fall. This wasn't really how he'd imagine flying felt like, the rough twirls of the seed difficult to predict and he wasn't in control of any of it. Also, he really hadn't had time to prepare himself for it! Maybe he wasn't a great sky mage yet, but he'd just been dropped off a cliff without much explanation for what was about to happen!

It felt like an eternity and yet only a few minutes at once when they finally landed. Once safely on the ground, Callum pried his fingers apart behind Rayla's back, abruptly realizing how he was fully wrapped around her body and jerking back to sit by himself, though their legs were still a bit tangled up as his face heated. "I'm sorry." He squeaked. "I didn't mean to, uh-"

"It's okay," Rayla cut him off, and he took comfort in the fact that her cheeks were as pink as his felt. "It was a bumpy ride." She gave him a shy smile as she stood up and dusted herself off.

Around them, Andromeda and Ezran had landed at about the same time, and Ezran looked dizzy but otherwise unbothered by the fall as the woman set him down. Ram and Azymondias were the next to impact the ground, with the little dragon chirping delightedly at his first real taste of flight. Runaan took a few extra beats, and when Callum glanced up, his eyes widened as the older man didn't wait for his seed to hit the ground.

Instead, he leaped from it to one of the massive - vines? roots? - surrounding them, up near the canopy, to squint towards the distance before hopping all the way down to them. Unlike Rayla, he didn't bother using his blades to slow his falls, just rolling with impacts that made Callum wince, though they didn't seem to bother the elf.

Andromeda rolled her eyes as he landed on the ground. "Showoff," She teased.

To Callum's surprise, Runaan cracked a smile in response and replied, "Occasionally."

Rayla distracted him by grabbing his hand and Callum turned his attention back to her. "I can't wait to show you my home!" She said eagerly. "If we get back by dusk, I can even show you a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?" Callum asked, wary from her fart flower prank earlier, but she looked so earnestly excited this time he couldn't hold onto the distrust too much.

"It's a surprise, silly!" She laughed.

"If we want to get home by dusk, we should get moving." Ram said, scratching Zym's fur, much to the little dragon's joy. "Did you see anything, Runaan?"

"Nothing." Runaan reported, but his expression was soft when he looked back at the group. "But nothing is good. It means nothing's happened in our absence. Let's go."

 

"Here it is!" Rayla said brightly, and Ezran squinted at the little meadow in front of them.

It was a cute meadow, he supposed. Lots of deer and rabbits would like it. It was nicely sheltered with cool blue grass that he guessed would be really nice to eat for animals like that. He couldn't quite see what was a surprise about it, though.

"So . . . what did you wanna show me?" Callum asked, politely, looking around the meadow as confused as Ezran.

Rayla grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the meadow, gesturing towards the grass and pushing him out ahead of her. Ezran narrowed his eyes, wise to her tricks now since the fart flower incident, and refrained from following just yet. Let Callum see what was going on, since he apparently couldn't tell when girls were messing with him.

The other elves exchanged glances and Runaan gave a heavy sigh, jumping up one of the nearby vines to walk over the field instead of through it. Andromeda did the same, but Ram rolled his eyes and just followed Rayla and Callum into the grass. If they were doing it, apparently it was safe enough, and Ezran couldn't really climb up the vine like Runaan and Andromeda, so he and Zym trailed into the meadow.

"I used to come to this meadow when I was a kid," Rayla confessed. "I would spend hours on my own explorin' an' makin' all kinds of colorful little friends."

Ezran happened to look down into the grass just as he said it and gasped at the sight of the fuzzy little creatures hidden in the grass. Their eyes blinked up at him as he disturbed their nap spots and he cooed at them. "You're so cute!"

"Friends?" Callum echoed blankly.

"Look in the grass!" Ezran called, giddy with excitement at the little creatures. When he glanced up his eyes widened as he saw Rayla pick one up and just throw it at Callum. It stuck to his shirt and he plucked it off, apparently without hurting it.

"What is it?"

The ones at Ezran's feet began peeping, and he bet the one in Callum's hand was too, as Rayla informed them, "It's an adoraburr!"

"They're so cute!" Callum cried, lifting one leg from the grass to reveal it covered in adoraburrs as Ezran yelped, the ones around him suddenly bouncing onto his own clothes. Ezran giggled.

"Look, they stick together!" Rayla said, and Ezran didn't bother looking, noticing it from the ones that were sticking to him! Walking was getting a little awkward, but at least the little creatures seemed to move away from his legs when they noticed they were getting scraped about. "I thought you'd like them."

"I love them." Callum announced, and Ezran cackled when his brother just fell backward into the field, already guessing he would stand back up completely covered in the burrs.

"Rayla!" Runaan called down from the vine, and Ezran - and Ram - both laughed at Rayla's suddenly deadpan expression. "Do remember we'll be leaving tomorrow - you won't be the one at home dealing with them for the next week. Be courteous of that, and leave the little beasts in their field. Do not bring them in the house!"

Rayla pouted up at the vine. "You mind them a lot more then Ethari does," She argued.

Runaan gave her an equally deadpan look. "He'll mind them a lot more when I'm not home to do the laundry," He replied dryly. "Or get them out of Shinx's feathers. Leave them."

Ezran immediately put the pieces together, excited by this little glimpse of his friends' home life. "Is Ethari your husband?" he asked to be sure.

The archer's smile was a different one than Ezran had seen on him before, his eyes going soft and distant. "Yes," He said in a tone of deep fondness, like his dad had when he talked about Queen Sarai.

"Now that we're in Moonshadow Forest, that means you guys can talk about your families, right?" Ezran pointed out as Rayla reluctantly helped Callum free of his adoraburr second skin to continue walking.

"That's right," Andromeda confirmed, a little bounce in her step. "We'll probably hear my husband before we see him - Elyrin's a bard," She informed them with as much excitement as Ezran felt at hearing about them.

"Her little brother Sirius is one of my friends, too," Rayla volunteered. "I wanna introduce you guys to my Pride before we go! The boys are probably all in the village, but I hope we don't miss Vela, she goes on trail patrols for days sometimes."

Ezran jogged up next to Ram and tugged on his jacket to get his attention. "What about you?" He asked curiously. "You haven't said anything about your family."

Ram glanced down at him and didn't quite smile, his brows drawing with visible sadness. "My mother died last year," He confessed. "My father is all I have left. He's one of the ones we'll need to speak to, about that Cube Callum's carrying. He's the Keeper of the Well of the Forgotten."

"What does that mean?"

"The Well of the Forgotten is a sacred site used for . . . some of our more ruthless communal spells." Ram seemed to settle on this explanation after a moment's thought. "It's also the place used to commune with the dead, if need be, whose bodies were never found or properly laid to rest in the water. There are other sacred wells in the Silvergrove, and other Keepers; the Keeper of the Well of the Forgotten is warden of much of our sacred knowledge and secrets as well, and as such, is the leader of village ceremonies and often guides discussion on community decisions as well, though the Assassins' Guild is often held apart from that, directed more by the Guildmaster - Runaan." As an afterthought, he added, "It helps that he's one of the oldest elves in the village, with the wisdom that comes with it."

Andromeda piped up from above. "Word around the village is that Keeper Lyrennus has been around longer than anyone alive remembers," She said. "He's well into his hundreds by now."

"Three hundreds, if I recall," Runaan confirmed, sounding distracted.

Wow. Ezran bit his tongue on his awe, feeling like it might be a little rude to comment like that. Still, he couldn't help but ask - "Aren't you . . ." He trailed off, trying to remember if Ram's exact age had ever been brought up. Younger than Andromeda, only - "Only a few years older than Rayla and Callum?"

"Five years," Ram said loftily, as Rayla stuck her tongue out at him. When Runaan wasn't looking he returned the gesture and Ezran stifled a giggle. "When an elven mage strengthens their arcanum it can begin to sort of . . . consume their mortal form, and they cease to age as much, if at all. My father is centuries old, but he's not exactly a withered old tree."

Andromeda cleared her throat. "If Runaan actually retired, he could get quite old as well."

Runaan gave a short scoff. "I wouldn't bother with magic as I do now if I retired," He said honestly. "Except - I suppose for Ethari's sake. He's already quite a powerful mage, and he'll outlive me drastically if I don't."

"It's a fate we risk nonetheless as assassins." Andromeda admitted. "Though some are lucky enough to retire in time. This will be my last mission."

"Speaking of - Andromeda, before we arrive - may I have a word with you?" Runaan asked, his voice dropping somewhat, and Ezran looked up at them curiously as the two older elves began to retreat. "Ram, Rayla, get the princes to the entrance. We'll meet you there."

"Of course."

"Sure." Rayla was casting her own curious glance after them, but neither she nor Ram looked concerned, so Ezran just followed along. Clearly it wasn't anything to worry about.

 

The village was minutes away but guilt had been eating at Runaan's heart since they evaded Sol Regem, and he was grateful Andromeda had agreed to spare him a moment before they returned. "I owe you an apology." He said grimly, though it burned on his tongue it eased the sticky, guilty feeling in his chest. "I owe you all an apology for my misjudgment, but I owe you an apology, personally, for asking you to come on this mission."

Andromeda blinked up at him and then tilted her head to the side, folding her arms over her chest the way Rayla did when she was feeling insecure. "Runaan . . . you made a mistake."

He shook his head. "I asked you to come knowing I would need you to cover for her," He said seriously. "Because we have known you longer. Because you knew us. I knew you hadn't planned to work this year. You deserved to stay home. And because of my choices, you've missed nearly half your heat already, and you've been in such a state it's not likely it will take even if you stayed. You had a chance to stay and try to begin your family, and I have taken that from you." As it was taken from me, over Rayla.

The woman before him bit her lip and looked down briefly before sighing, so deeply her shoulders rose and fell. "I am upset," She admitted. "But Runaan, I knew why you were asking. I chose to come because I wanted to help her too." She raised her eyes back to his, expression clear and determined. "She is your ward - your daughter - but she is my friend.

"She is my brother's best friend. She is the one who taught me Moonshadow Form, not you. Rayla is like a sister I never had. I knew you were bringing me in case she made a mistake, I was ready for that. I was angry when she lied, but - I knew, Runaan. You asked, but I could have said no. I didn't. I knew what I was getting into as much as you did at the time."

Runaan bowed his head in acknowledgement of her forgiveness, letting his eyes close submissively. "I am still sorry for what you have missed."

"I'm sorry, too," Andromeda said simply. "I'm upset that I've missed it. I'm not gonna stay, either, I took the same oath you did and I'll see it through, heat be damned. But if all this hasn't thrown your cycle off I'll be surprised."

He snorted unwillingly and passed a tired hand over his face. "Likely," He admitted. It wasn't time yet, nor close enough to tell, but with how rundown he felt, he doubted he would have the energy for his cycle to begin on time. "Still."

Andromeda smiled crookedly at him. "Doesn't feel the same, since you will need more preparation than this to try for a cub?" She teased him very gently. "It isn't all about that, Runaan. I know how much it hurts just to . . . miss him, too." She bit her lip on something else.

She was hitting a little close to home, reminding him of old plans to make those preparations. Dreams of having an infant around the house, of raising a little cub with Ethari's dark skin and his own bright eyes . . . plans only Skor would know about. Plans long abandoned in favor of looking after the cub with Tiadrin's sharp tongue and Lain's clever hands. "I know." He rasped in favor of admitting it.

"If it helps, I forgive you." Andromeda told him softly. "Though I think there's nothing to forgive - I'd have done the same - I'll offer it to you."

Runaan closed his eyes once more and bowed to her. "Thank you, Andromeda." He said around the tightness in his throat. "And though you may not feel an apology necessary, will you accept my sympathy?"

When he raised his eyes again Andromeda was smiling. "Yes," She said. "Sympathy I will gladly take. And a hug, if you're willing."

Runaan opened his arms, a weight taken from his shoulders by the conversation, and she hugged him. He hugged her back, taking care to keep his jaw away from her hair, not leaving too much scent on her, as she was doing the same around his ribs. They were both about to go see their husbands again - during challenge season - and Ethari at least could be . . . territorial.

Somehow he doubted Elyrin would be, but Runaan still felt it polite to keep from scent marking the man's wife too much.

"Are you ready to go home?" Andromeda asked when she stood back, and she fell in step beside him as he nodded and they walked quickly to catch up with their young companions.

Notes:

I really thought we were gonna enter the Silvergrove in this one, but no, Runaan really needed to apologize first.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 4 of Different Paths