#Spayar Hillsman

[ahungeringknife]

Posting original stuff for the first time always feels like the top of a roller coaster just before the drop for me :,D Info links are all at the bottom

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The Zealous Servant | 1 | No place like home

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If not for the feeling of his stomach in his throat Spayar wouldn't have even noticed when they came in for a landing. Two rows ahead someone threw up in a bucket and he was glad they'd waited until they landed. The small cabin started smelling like vomit almost immediately and several of Spayar's old platoon-mates started giving the person a hard time. They thought flying was bad they wouldn't have lasted one week in their platoon!

Before it could get too rowdy or a fight break out the doors were opened and the two flighters who'd brought them here started directing everyone out. Spayar got up and was out the cabin quickly to get out into the open sky. He'd seen it was gray skies from the window in the cabin and now landing the clouds seemed even lower than usual. He went over to the waiting area for his luggage with the rest of the passengers. It was already covered for the year for the rain. On the landing pad the two wyrms were stretching their legs from the flight and one was already starting to curl up like a sleeping cat, its bristles and razor scales and spines laying flat so it looked like a smooth dull gray stone. Porters were running around the back of the cabin, a aerodynamic cylinder with a couple of portholes and two doors, unloading the luggage.

A man he'd served time with knocked shoulders with him, "So you coming back for more fun, Hillsman?" he asked.

"As delightful as losing my gag reflex was-" he paused when the he laughed "- I have other civil work to do."

The man nodded slowly. "That was a dumb question, Fanger," another platoons-man said to the older man. She was Spayar's age. "Spayar's d'aelar to the Prince. You're lucky the Prince didn't pull rank to pull him out sooner." Spayar grimaced. She didn't have to say it so loudly as now some normal passengers were looking at him. It was too early in the morning for him to have to look dignified. He did square out his shoulders at least.

"Right. Forgot that. You talk way too normal to fit in with those stuffy nobles," the man clapped Spayar on the shoulder hard.

It's almost like I'm educated and know when it's better to dumb myself down, Spayar thought but didn't say. "Have to bring them down to my level sometimes," he said with his best charming grin.

"Hillsman?" one of the porters called as they'd brought the luggage from the back. He slipped out from the man's grip and collected his luggage, a back pack and a small carry trunk. He saw the faded buoyancy weave on both items put on there before the flight to keep the weight down and just reconnected the threads. The bag and trunk immediately weighed a third of their normal weight. He picked up the trunk one handed after slinging the pack over his shoulder and walked off the landing platform and down to the post office below.

It was busy already at the Central Office but mostly of postal people, the odd flighter boredly waiting around for their daily trips, or the bustling blue dressed messengers. A few people already were in line to send their mail. He paid none of them any mind. He just wanted to get home.

There were taxis waiting outside the post office after an air travel landing. He just took the first one, a petty cab pulled by what looked like an ostrich if not for a face like a rat and lacking any feathers and was instead brown furred and covered in a smattering of black and dark brown spots. The driver sat astride it while Spayar loaded in. "Where to, fella?" the driver asked.

"Synnerstock street, number sixteen, out in Bellringer," Spayar said and gratefully sat in the taxi.

"Roger," and the driver urged the Pol'cobb forward and they were off at a good speed joining the mostly foot traffic of the city in downtown Assarus.

The trip out to Bellringer was not short and Spayar just leaned back in the taxi and watched the city fly by. He hadn't been home in two years while serving time but everything seemed more or less the same. He'd have to feed the birds as soon as he got a chance. He'd kept in touch with his friends and accomplices via letter or Seeing spell when he could manage but there were some things you didn't want to talk about over something like letters or spell that could be tracked or spied upon.

"Can we go through South Garden?" he asked the driver as they were leaving the downtown area and it looked like the driver was about to take the longer, if more scenic, route along Riverside and Tradesmen.

"Roger," the driver said and took a different street. Spayar thought South Garden was a pretty neighborhood too. Lots of hanging flower baskets or grow boxes in their windows but the cramped quarters of the houses prevented those who lived here from having proper gardens. The awnings here over the street were more colorful than the ones downtown and caused the light on Spayar's dark skin to cast it into different glows.

Entering Belringer was obvious as South Garden's streets were winding but Belringer had been laid out by strict city planners. The roads were neat and straight and there was more room for gardens for the homes, more breathing room for the inhabitants.

"Thirteen was it, fella?" the driver asked over his shoulder.

"Sixteen," Spayar corrected.

"Roger." The taxi came to a stop a few moments later. "This place?" the driver clarified.

"Roger," Spayar said and climbed out of the taxi. He pulled out his wallet and paid the driver and once he'd removed his luggage the driver kicked the pol'cobb off again and they were trundling down the street once more.

Spayar looked at the building he'd been left in front of. The front was a workshop and store front of his father's and behind was a large two story house with a large connected garden hidden by a high wooden fence. The front door was through the garden unless he wanted to pass through the shop front and he really didn't.

Much to his annoyance the garden door wasn't locked. He remembered always scolding his siblings about making sure the door was locked when they left or came home. He bet it was Duren, or maybe Anora. She was the more forgetful of the Hillsman siblings. But it benefited him today as he didn't have to fish his key out and entered the garden. It was full of late summer growth and early autumn sprouts, some tended to in neat rows and others left to grow more wild.

He locked the door as he headed for the front door. It also wasn't locked. He walked right in and Spayar was greeted by the smell of his mother's cooking from the kitchen where he heard her moving around and probably making a mess of things. She was a good cook if not a very tidy one. Spayar closed the door softly and went around to the three quartered walled kitchen. She didn't notice him at first.

At least he thought she didn't. "Duren you just had breakfast, lunch isn't for a while yet, go back to helping your father," she said in her sweet accented Feylian, not looking at him. Spayar smiled to himself. She thought he was his little brother. Spayar hoped he hadn't gotten as tall as Spayar was already.

"I would but Duren's not here," Spayar said giving his mother such a fright she nearly threw the spoon she was using to tend to whatever was on the stove.

Relora spun and let out a cry. Spayar grinned when his mother rushed over and gave him a great hug. She felt slight in his arms when he hugged her back. She was saying something excitedly in Dirnine but Spayar hated to admit he had trouble following. "Let me see you my sweet," she proclaimed in Feylian and stepped back to take his face in both her hands.

"Amma," he said with a tired smile looking at her. She was a dark skinned Dirinnan with a few freckles on the sides of her face and around her temples framing sea glass green eyes. Her forehead was high and her long black hair was pulled back in a neat single pleat and then pinned into bun on the top of her head. Specific scars decorated the middle of forehead of a vertical straight line and two lines curved against the straight parts. Spayar didn't know the meaning of the scars but his mother usually touched them when she prayed. She said something in Dirnine. "Amma, I forget," he complained.

That made her laugh. "You've only been gone two years, Junior," she said, her teeth white in her smile.

"I'm a dumb foolish boy though, amma," he whined.

"Oh, my poor foolish mazuk," she said and fondly patted his cheek. She kissed him on the cheeks and between the eyes. "You just arrived?"

"Yes. Took a flight from Fort Fetari here in the predawn."

She frowned, "Isn't that dangerous."

"Mail wyrms fly in the dark, amma, it was fine," he said hoping to alleviate some fear. "I want to get some sleep before lunch? Before I have to get to work," he sighed.

She laughed softly. "And you work so hard, Junior," she said gently. "But try to take a few days off hmm?"

"I'll see how long I can avoid the Prince then," he told her like a secret and she didn't look impressed by that at all knowing such a thing was impossible. "I'll get that nap in at least."

"Alright. I'll have Duren wake you for lunch," and she hugged him one more time. "You can tell us all about your time served over lunch."

"Sure," he tried not to groan. He would much rather forget it if he was honest.

She let him go and Spayar scooped his trunk back up and went upstairs. Down the hall his door was opposite his sister Calli's and he could hear her in her own room. He went into his own room. It was as he left it. Bed made, things organized and put away, everything filed where it was supposed to go. His bookshelf was orderly and his mother had come in here a few times to refresh the room as there was no dust and it didn't smell like old cleaning. Two windows let in mid morning light despite the curtains and made the room very bright. An old mobile of the solar system hung from the ceiling in the corner. He set the lightened trunk and back pack down and went over to mobile. Lightly he reached up and touched the fifth planet on the mobile and connected an old weave on it. He half expected it to have faded but was pleasantly surprised it was still there. He didn't know why. Tassa had made this weave and she was the strongest weaver he'd ever met.

While nothing about the room changed it got considerably darker in the room as the magic sprang into life over the windows as an invisible spider web, not allowing as much light in as before. Perfect for when you wanted to take a nap during the day or if you were hung over from the night before and the suns were just too much.

Spayar didn't even bother taking off any of his clothes except his boots, coat, and belt before face planting onto his bed with a groan.

He was woken by a small, dense, body throwing itself onto him. He started awake as arms wrapped around him. "De-de, time to wake up!" Duren cried at the top of his voice making Spayar's ears ring.

"I'm awake," Spayar said with all the affection one would have for a problematic isopod. It wasn't that he didn't love his baby brother he just did not love being jumped on.

"Amma said it was time for lunch," Duren said brightly.

"So I surmised," Spayar said and tried to sit up, impossible with a small child clinging to his waist. "Duren-- we can't go to lunch if you don't let me go."

"But I like hugging you," Duren said looking at him with the same green eyes their mother had. "I missed you."

Spayar softened despite his desire to be annoyed. Duren had gotten bigger since the last he'd seen him, both taller and wider. He had to be what, seven? Eight? He thought it was eight. Still chubbier than a normal eight year old with baby weight. He was cute so Spayar didn't mind. "Yeah but I'm hungry. Aren't you? Working with dad doesn't work up an appetite? I should tell him he's slacking-

"No! We work a lot," Duren insisted and climbed off Spayar. Spayar got up and didn't mind when Duren grabbed his hand. "You didn't come through the shop," he said as Spayar left his room, Duren in tow. He didn't hear Calli in her room and figured Anora was at school.

"Doo'suvf talks," was all Spayar said, speaking of their father. "And I wanted to come home and sleep."

"Hmph," Duren wasn't impressed and Spayar let go of his hand so they could walk down the stairs. Duren trundled down the steps two at a time, hopping off the final three steps, "Amma! I got Junior," he proclaimed.

"Duren I've told you not to jump from the higher steps," Relora scolded Duren who pouted at her, puffing up his cheeks and lips. "It's dangerous, you could hurt yourself."

"But I didn't amma," Duren said.

Spayar left his mother to scold Duren and wandered towards the dining room and-

Sitting next to his sister was someone very out of place in a family home of dark skinned Dirinnans. Or it would have been if Von hadn't spent most of their childhood sneaking out of the Palace to come have meals and sleepovers at Spayar's. "You," he pointed at Von sitting next to Calli.

They both whipped around at his voice. Von pointed right back. "You. What are you doing here?"

"I live here!" Spayar cried and Calli giggled into her hand. "What's your excuse?"

"I was in the area," Von said with that annoyingly handsome smile of his that made him like a sunbeam.

"Lemp's ball sack you were," Spayar said and sat across from Von at the table. Vondugard Le'Acard was Spayar's best friend and the most beautiful man he'd ever laid eyes on. All fair golden skin and hair with the most intensely cerulean eyes he'd ever seen. When he smiled he had dimples and wore his hair at a fashionable length around the top of his ears with a long front fringe that today he had pinned back with a gaudy silver unicorn rampart clip. Spayar didn't usually go for white guys but Von was an exception. As he was with everything. He was also a Crown Prince of the Alliance.

"He always comes and has lunch with us on Siscest," Calli said thoughtfully, rightfully snitching on him immediately.

"Since when?"

Calli just shrugged. "A while? Probably since your presence was missed in the Palace."

"I get no peace with the two of you together," Von said, hand to his forehead. Calli giggled. Calli looked a lot like Spayar but took more after their mother than their father with a high forehead, graceful nose and delicate hands. She was also lighter skinned than Spayar like their father. Spayar got Relora's nearly eggplant dark skin while Calli was simply a rich deep brown. They both also had their father's black eyes. Duren was the only one who'd gotten Relora's green eyes. She and Von were the same age and he was suddenly reminded that meant they've both start their own time served this year.

Duren joined them then, sitting next to Spayar and flopped his head on the table, thoroughly chastised by their mother. "You never mentioned you visited so often," Spayar said to Von.

"Was it so important? You know writing long letters bores me," he said dismissively. Calli giggled again.

"Yeah well I--!!" Spayar ended in a yelp when he was nearly lifted, seat and all, up into the air from behind. "Doo--im, stop," he complained to his father who had enveloped him and was kissing him on the face. How utterly embarrassing.

His father released him with a deep laugh and patted Spayar's shoulder hard. "You snuck around the side then, Junior?" he asked.

"I'd rather die than let your apprentices see you do that," Spayar said, deadpan. Spayar Senior was a handsome man with a shaved head and was growing his beard out for winter. Spayar knew his father could look incredibly intimidating but when he smiled, like now, it was utterly charming and disarming. He wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off his wide shoulders and strong arms covered in scars too imprecise to be anything but weapon wounds. Spayar looked a lot like him except Senior's face had a more firm jaw and a wider mouth. He was missing a few teeth but had replaced them with gold making his smile flashier than even Spayar's.

"Ah but it is my job to embarrass you as your father," Senior said with a charming smile that Spayar could mirror, his accent less pronounced than Relora's.

"At least wait until after lunch," Relora appeared with a pot of rice and Spayar perked up. He hadn't had rice while serving time.

Senior said something in Dirnine Spayar parsed out as something like 'yes, my beloved' and was more horrified at how bad his home language was just after two years serving time than he was at his parents being lovey dovey. Senior sat at the head of the table as Relora went back into the kitchen and brought out a full baked goose stuffed with grains and vegetables from the smell.

"Now where is Anora, school should have-

"Amma, dooim, I'm home!" the front door crashed open when the last Hillsman child came home from school for lunch hour.

"You come here willingly every week?" Spayar asked Von over the commotion of Relora sweeping over to Anora who was excitedly talking about school. Spayar had to put up with this because he loved his family but Von was the crown prince.

Von just smiled his beautiful smile. "It's much more fun than having lunch with my sister." For a moment his face turned brittle but only because Spayar knew what he was looking for.

"Which one? The idiot or the bitch-

"Oooh, de-de that's a bad word," Duren said next to him.

"Junior," Senior said like a warning even as he was carving the goose.

"It's not bad. It's just a grown up word and I'm a grown up now," Spayar said and stuck his tongue out at Duren who did the same to him, making an extra gross face as he did to make Spayar snicker.

Anora and Relora arrived at the table with Anora being a whirlwind of excited voice and hands. She was talking to Relora non-stop even as Relora got her into a chair. She looked a spitting image of their mother with a lower forehead and Senior's dark eyes and skin. Her long wavy hair was done in braided pigtails today. She was completely oblivious to Spayar and Von at the table as she started talking to Calli next. Senior put some goose and stuffing on Spayar's plate.

"Are you just staying for lunch?" Spayar asked Von while three other conversations were happening. It was a pretty typical meal for the household and for Dirinnans and cross talk was to be expected.

"We could hang out," Von said as he was served.

"I need to feed the birds," Spayar scooped some rice onto his plate.

"Right. I forget you do that."

"You talk to our friends?"

"Everyone's still alive if that's what you're asking."

"Tassa around?"

Von grimaced. "I dunno. You know she isn't fond of me."

"I think you underestimate her," Spayar said casually. "Is she?"

"I haven't seen her. We don't run in the same friend group."

Right, you two don't talk unless I'm around, Spayar thought with an internal sigh.

"-- Junior? Have you been here the entire time?" Anora suddenly asked him.

He looked at his little sister. Middle child with way too much energy. "Yes," he said patiently.

"And you just sat there!"

"You were talking to Calli- oof," he grunted when Anora hugged him tightly. "Uh-huh," Spayar said when Anora started talking to him rapidly about school and math. Spayar was the only one she could talk about math too since he was the only one in the family any good at it other than her. Not for the first time he reminded himself to talk to Senior about getting her an apprenticeship with an alchemist. She was old enough. He was only half following though as he scooped lunch into his mouth, giving indications he was listening. Anora rarely wanted a full conversation, she just wanted to tell you about what she was excited about and she was excited about many things.

Anora had him captive the rest of lunch and he half listened to everyone else's conversations while keeping up with her telling him about algebra. Calli and Von were having a pleasant conversation about Calli's new job she was starting this week at a watch maker, the last one she'd had at a florist had fallen through. Senior was talking across the entire table to Relora in Dirnine that Spayar was vaguely aware was about work. Senior was also talking to Duren about what they'd be doing after lunch.

He was so glad to be home.

Von was sitting on Spayar's bed while Spayar was digging through his carry trunk. The sounds of the city outside were dampened and even the light seemed faded and diffused in the room as the purple sun of the mobile glowed softly with magic. The room was effectively sealed from outside viewing, hearing, or scrying by all but the most powerful magic users. Von was leaned back casually on one hand waiting for Spayar to find what he was looking for.

"You really going to feed the birds today?" Von asked as Spayar found what he was looking for.

"Mom wanted to go shopping. I volunteered," Spayar said peeling back a final layer of clothes. It was a simple locked box about the length of his forearm that he picked up and put on his desk. There was no key hole or any sort of actual mechanism to open it, where a key hole would be just a solid piece of metal. To open a safe box like this you needed to be a mettalurgist. It just happened metal ran in the family. Needing no spell or weave Spayar smeared the solid iron down from the lock opening and released the lid from the bottom. He opened the box and pulled out a letter in a sealed envelope from among the items inside. The envelope was sealed with magic that would also make them explode should someone not the intended person open them. The intended person being Spayar himself.

He opened the envelope. "From Councilman Milo Theron," he said as he handed the paper inside to Von. He closed the safe box after.

"Who?" Von asked as he took the papers.

"Sinso's friend in Galinsum," Spayar said as Von unfolded the letter. "Councilman, very high up. Sinso was working on something in secret along with trying to figure out the perfect formulae to make someone vomit on command," he ended with a sigh as Von started reading.

"Sinso was your contact in the Arm, right?" Von clarified.

"Yes. If you asked him I was his little stooge," Spayar said as he put the safe box up on a shelf where it had gone before he'd served his time.

"You're so good at it though I'm not surprised," Von teased him and Spayar rolled his eyes. Von read the letter and his brows slowly furrowed seriously. Spayar sat in his desk chair while Von read the multiple page letter. "Hmm," Von said after a few minutes. "That sounds quite like treason if I was the Governor of Galinsum," he said casually.

"So he fits right in with us," Spayar said seriously.

"Who's the Governor there again? Remind me," Von said even as he read the letter again.

"Jengin Albera," Spayar recited dutifully.

"Right, the 'immortal alchemist'," Von said distractedly. "He's not Feylon is he?"

"No."

"Have we met him?"

"I don't believe personally. He does attend some of your mother's balls and galas though," Spayar said. "We've been introduced at the very least."

"Hmm," Von was very seriously reading the letter again. "Never thought I'd see proper war alchemy."

"It's potentially quite devastating," Spayar said.

"Have you seen it?"

"It was something Sinso was working on yes. Him and other alchemists serving in the arm, away from Galinsum and their pacifism."

"Can you get a message to Theo reliably?"

"He accepts mail."

"Is it screened?"

"He's a Councilman, I imagine not," Spayar said thoughtfully. Von got up from the bed and came to the desk. Spayar turned around and shuffled some papers out. "Ink or pencil?"

"Ink well," Von said and Spayar knew what he was going to do. If Spayar knew Von any less he'd think it was a gross over display of power but Von's entire family was a gross over display of magical ability. The tips of Von's fingers glowed orange and became sharpened like needles and Spayar watched him stitch together a weave in moments and a few complicated hand motions. Then Von put a glowing finger to the page and ink jumped out of the well directly onto the paper. Von didn't have to speak or even write it, the words were transcribed directly to the paper at the same speed as his thoughts. He'd seen Von do this enough times to not be overly impressed but the speed he could construct a well spoken letter was more impressive than the magic.

Von paused, lifting his finger from the paper, just to check something in the letter Theo had sent before putting it back down and finishing the letter. Then he tugged on a piece of the weave and it snapped closed into the perfect size to fit into an envelope. "I'll send it off when I go shopping," Spayar said looking for an envelope.

"Pay for expedited. I want it in his hands tomorrow morning," stepping away from the desk.

"Of course," Spayar said as he hand wrote the staffs of the address with a pen.

"If Theo is courting me what's the odds other Councilmen are courting my siblings?" Von asked quietly.

"Sinso made it sound like most Councilmen aren't interested in treason for personal gain."

"Then why is Theo?" Von said and looked at the letter again. "And why me?" he was particularly surprised by that one.

"You have a d'aelar," Spayar said throwing his arm around the back of his chair to turn and look at Von.

Von whipped around, blue eyes wide for a moment, and then he smiled slightly. "I do," he said smugly. "Don't remind Teldin," he added. Spayar laughed. "Was that all the work for today?"

"Yes," Spayar said standing, grabbing the envelope.

"Good," and Von used a spell to light the letter on fire. It burned to a crisp into ashes but didn't even mark his perfect hand.

"You made a mess in my room," he said, looking down at the ashes.

"You'll forgive me," Von said with a cute smile like he never thought Spayar wouldn't. And damnit if he wasn't right. I'd forgive you anything, Spayar thought and it was both fond and frustrated with him. "So, feed the birds?"

"You're coming?"

"Probably not. It bores me. And I'm sure my minders are missing me-

Spayar put his hand to the bridge of his nose, "Of course," he said, squeezing. Von just snickered. He raised his hand and disconnected the weave around the purple sun of the mobile and light and sound returned fully to the room.

"Now that you're back home we can start work properly," Von said even as Spayar brushed the ashes up to throw them away.

"Again," Spayar sighed grabbing his rain coat and hat for the low hanging clouds outside.

"Yes. Again," Von said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have ideas but I was waiting for you."

"Hopefully not on everything?" Spayar asked as they left his room.

"No. Just some big plays."

Calli's door opened as they were walking down the hall. "Junior," she called.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"You're going shopping for amma right?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm coming. Amma doesn't trust you not to take six years to do the shopping."

"I don't take six years," Spayar said with a slight roll of his eyes. But yes he did take longer to do the shopping only because he got the shopping done quickly and spent the rest of the day feeding the birds or people watching.

"Let me grab my coat," and she vanished back into her room.

"Still can't believe you came here every week to have lunch," Spayar mumbled to Von.

"Only for the cooking. I wouldn't bore your family with royal or court trivialities," Von said. "Even if Calli has raked me over the coals about it," he sighed.

"Why?"

"She has it in her mind-- ah Calli, is that the coat I got you?" Von asked, changing topics when Calli came out wearing a new rain coat of the sweetest pink color Spayar had ever seen, the outside shiny and waxed to keep the rain off.

Calli beamed even as she was pulling her long wavy hair up into a high tail. "Yes."

"You bought my sister a coat?"

"Seemed polite," Von shrugged.

"It was for National Day," Calli said quickly. National Day was a country wide holiday that marked the official first day the first Asuras, Sinou, had taken the throne almost two thousand years ago. It happened in high summer when the moon flowers bloomed along the Meltong. "He got Anora one too and Duren new rain boots."

"Didn't get me anything," Spayar complained.

"You were four provinces away," Von groaned. "What was I supposed to do?"

"I dunno, visit?" Spayar groused even as they headed down the stairs. Behind him Von was saying some groveling type of apology while Calli giggled. Spayar wasn't really upset but it was always a good time to tease Von. The prince needed it. "Mom, do you have your shopping list?" he called once down on the first floor, not quite sure where Relora was.

"It's on the table," her voice called from the sitting room.

Spayar scooped it up. "So you're coming," he pointed at Calli, "and what are you doing?" he pointed at Von.

"I'll find something to do. We're having a get together at Red Garter tonight, coming?"

"Maybe."

"Can I?" Calli asked.

"No," Spayar said immediately.

Calli rolled her eyes. "Why not?"

"Because it's a drug bar," Spayar said keeping his voice down so Relora didn't hear. He saw the tips of Calli's ears turn red. Unlike Spayar most of his siblings were quite sheltered and being raised by immigrants they didn't always have the same proclivities as typical Feylon. Especially at places like a bar. Also there would be boys there and Spayar couldn't get high or enjoy himself knowing some leech might touch his sister.

"I- fine," she huffed, cheeks puffing out slightly. She went and gathered up the shopping bags.

"Red Garter's not that bad," Von said quietly as they followed her.

"No," Spayar said again. "Unless you want to be the one keeping an eye on her?"

"What? No. She's your sister."

"Exactly. No."

"Will you two stop whispering and come on," Calli groaned. "The meteorologists said the rains were starting today."

"They say that every day starting the middle of J'dorr," Spayar said.

"And aren't they right?" Calli asked.

"Eh, sometimes," Spayar allowed and did follow Calli out. The clouds did seem much lower than earlier though so Spayar put the envelope into an inside pocket of his coat and put his hat on over his wavy hair.

"You didn't bring a rain coat Vondugard," Calli said as they stepped out from the porch and into the garden.

"Oh, I'll be fine," Von said cheerfully. "You know the rain doesn't bother me."

Calli just looked confused. "He's a warlock, Calli," Spayar said, unimpressed.

"So?" she blinked at them both even as a slight misting started to fall from the sky. She pulled up the hood of her rain coat. Von just once more coated his fingers in magic and made a complex weave. The rain began beading up on an invisible barrier he'd woven around himself. It was wide enough that any large enough drops didn't even touch him and just fell harmlessly off to the side.

Calli looked at Spayar, "You can't do that."

"I don't want to do that," Spayar huffed. "Show off," he told Von and headed for the street.

"Well what's the point of being Le'Acard if I can't show off sometimes?" Von said following after him. "And this is where I say farewell my Hillsman friends," he beamed all sunshine on a miserable day. Spayar hated his fool heart for fluttering. He'd known Von how many years and he still got all silly?

"Don't get into trouble," Spayar said.

"Me? I would never," and with a wave he walked off.

Spayar and Calli stood there for a moment watching him walk off, a spring in his step. "He's such a pain in the ass," Spayar declared and then turned and walked the other way. Calli laughed into her hand as she followed after Spayar.

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[xaz-fr]

I will add links when I get access to a computer because mobile Tumblr hates letting you easily edit text lols. On this hell site? Very likely. But everything is in the #zs tag on my blog at the least until then.

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. But Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

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@girllikewisdom @enjoythewolfs @asnakewithwingsisadragon @fyreeprince @ispyatobert @frxemriss @madamecoyote @leprechaunsean @xangelstearsx @golden-lionsnake @deadpool-scar-bro @starry-ampelope @kami-mint

DiSol is a good boy who really doesn't deserve the shit I eventually do to him lol. Also gods I love Tassa so much she's great and I'm glad she's got a bigger role in the rewrite :D

Spayar knew something was in his room as soon as he opened the door. It wasn't a feeling that something bad was going to happen, just that something was out of place. There were no candles or lamps lit and the shutters were drawn closed against the nearly constant autumn rain in Assarus so it was difficult to see but he was a mage and a warrior and knew when things were off. Something felt off now and the part of Spayar that wasn't that brave at all wanted to just step back and head back downstairs and get his dad to deal with it like he had when he was nine and made him check under the bed for mud rats- a mythical rat creature with golden eyes and slimy brown fur that crawled into your mouth at night to suffocate you. He couldn't though because he was nineteen and a grown ass man and fully capable. He hated being an adult.

He stepped into his room and kept his power close. Nothing happened. He looked around, squinting into the shadows but still saw nothing. He waited a moment before he was satisfied he was just being paranoid. He went over to one of the lamps on his dresser and turned it back up to illuminate the room when he felt something behind him.

Spayar didn't have time to react, "You're home!" a high pitched voice cried, nearly right in Spayar's ear and he flinched as he was tackled, first by one body, then by a second, and finally a third and he couldn't remain standing and they all fell to the floor in a heap.

"Ahg!" Spayar yelled and found his siblings crawling all over him and realized what had happened. They'd been waiting for him up here when they probably saw him in the shed checking in on his horse and then saying hello to their mother. "Get off!" he howled and his three siblings laughed and did no such thing, clinging to his neck and waist. "Mom!" he yelled.

"What?" she called from downstairs.

"Help!"

His siblings giggled as he struggled to sit up and he heard his mother coming up the stairs. A moment later she arrived in the doorway and laughed at what she saw, Calli, Anora and Duren all piled up on top of Spayar in the most uncomfortable position. "What are you three doing?" she asked them, a smile on her face, and put her hands on her hips.

"Spayar's home mama," Anora said cheerfully, she had her arms around Spayar's neck, head under his chin.

"Yes I can see that," Relora said with a smile, amused by her eldest son's predicament. "I think he'd like to be able to stand up though."

"I would, yes," Spayar gasped because Duren was laying on his stomach and for only eight Duren already had their father's thick frame and body and was heavy. His little siblings giggled but when Relora told them to get up they did. Duren and Calli helped to drag Spayar to his feet. He took stock of himself and made sure he wasn't hurt.

"You three let your brother have a moment, he just came back from the west," Relora said.

"Are you staying longer than last time Spayar?" Calli asked. Gods she looked even more grown up than when Spayar had seen her a few weeks ago. It might have been the clothes, which were fashionable and the way she wore her hair. Spayar could already foresee his father growling at all the suitors his little sister would have soon, especially with a brother like Spayar. At least if he stayed as important as he was. He may very well be dead in the next year.

"Something wrong sweetie?" his mom asked him. Thinking about the coup made his chest tight, made him stare death in the face. If Von was killed there was no way the Asuras would let him live. He was too close to Von, too loyal. He'd never bend on another Le'Acard. He was d'alaer. It would be Von, or no one.

"Yeah, sorry I was just thinking about something," he smiled a little. "And I will be staying until his royal highness comes back from his trip at the least.”

"Do you know how long that is?" she asked.

"No but hopefully longer," he shook his head, "though the rains will keep everyone inside for a while,” they always did at the start of fall when the Meltong Basin started its wet season which was its autumn, it petered off after Lugalsta in the beginning of Lun usually. "He's coming from the coast though so I should have plenty of time to slack off," he grinned.

"Yes," Duren looked up at Spayar in delight, "will you teach me how to ride Spayar?" he asked.

"Ride a horse?" Duren nodded eagerly. Spayar cocked his head at his brother. Common folk in Assarus didn't normally have horses, his family hadn't had one until Von had given Spayar his mare a few years ago. His father had built the shed next to the house for her when Spayar was home. "Why?"

"Because I want to," Duren said.

"Uh," he looked at his mother.

"He's been bothering your father about it," his mother said.

"He said if you said yes he'd give me time out of the forge to practice," Duren said seriously.

"If I have time," Spayar said and that seemed good enough for Duren. He announced he was going to tell their dad and wiggled through the door their mother was still standing in.

"C'mon you two, let your brother take a bath," Relora said and shepherded her daughters out of the bedroom, closing the door after them to give him some privacy.

Spayar sighed once he was gone and could finally put his things away. He turned on another one of the lamps as he pulled out his dirty laundry for cleaning and put his weapons and bag away. He didn't travel with much and was used to packing up and leaving quickly. He rolled his eyes at the thought of Von summoning him when they were younger to go hunting or to visit some friend of his outside of Assarus for a few days. He was taking off his leather jacket when he felt the wrongness again and stopped as he undid the first buckle near his throat and looked around his room again. Someone was still in here with him, not just his little sisters and brother.

"Who's there?" he asked, there was no answer, "I know you're there; show yourself I don't have time for games." He honestly wasn't expecting anyone, but giving voice to his paranoia made him feel better. So when a piece of shadow broke off from one of the high corners of his ceiling and fell to the floor with a soft thud Spayar froze and went cold. 

Spayar swallowed at what rose from the little puddle of darkness; a lonth. Lords of shadows they were all wizards or mages and lethal with any weapon including their hands. The Adoshade were one of the most southern houses in the Alliance before you hit the Kas’sca and incredibly small but powerful. This one in front of him wore his Shroud tight to his body, making his skin black and shiny like a bug's carapace, only his face and hair revealed. He was older than Spayar by only perhaps three years with nearly ruddy skin with black eyes and hair and looked like a Black Foot though removed some generations from the original people who lived within the lands of the LoHanJo'in province.

"Are you Spayar Hillsman junior?" the lonth asked, despite being from the coast like Peonia and the Garden which had similar accents that were quick, rolling and beautiful the Shade had a starkly different one that made them sound sort of slow. The Black Foot language was very meandering and since the Shade had come from the Black Foot their accent mimicked that.

"I am, who are you?” Spayar said.

"My name is DiSol Adoshade," they bowed a little to him, "Second son of LouSai, Shadow Lord." That made Spayar uneasy.

"What can I do for you DiSol?" Spayar asked keeping as calm as possible. Von said that the Adoshade had been quiet lately and killed anyone who came into their province, or at least any spies never returned. But it was the Adoshade, the Adoshade did not allow survivors to those they considered traitors.

"You are the d'alaer of Vondugard Le'Acard are you not?" he asked.

"I am."

"A worthy thing to give your life for then," and Spayar grabbed his power in case DiSol attacked him. DiSol didn't move towards him and Spayar realized that if DiSol had wanted to kill him he could have done it already or if he wanted to know Spayar wouldn't be able to stop him, lonths never let a target live.

"What do you want?"

“We need help and the Shadow Lord is dying,” he said.

"Excuse me?" dropping his power in pure shock. The Shadow Lord was dying?

"Virilia," the Asuras, "has sent my father threats if he does not cooperate. I'm sure you've heard we have closed the borders of our province to outsiders," Spayar nodded, "my father is very sick and has put my older brother in charge of defending DisAdo and keeping the house safe." Spayar knew DiSol's older brother, CoLan, nearly everyone in the Alliance knew him, they called him the Dawn Demon and he was a monster, the strongest lonth there had ever been. Ruthless and cunning without a good thing about him he was said to have no conscious and did his duty for the pleasure of the kill. "My brother is not a good leader," DiSol said and his Shroud retreated back from his body like seeping water revealing his gray mottled clothing, his Shroud becoming a cape behind him.

"I don't see why you need me."

"My brother has been killing Virilia's spies when they come and see what is going on in LoHanJo'in as well as anyone else who crosses from the Relua province into ours. I managed to convince him to let normal people to pass through unscathed but he doesn't like it. As I said, Virilia is sending my father threats, my brother sees them instead because he is acting Shadow Lord. He has gone into the Boggarts to find Black Foot to raise an army." Spayar paled, another house who wanted to raise an army. Black Foot used a type of magic that robbed people of their free will, they were puppet masters and if you had a band of Black Foot shamen in your army you could make the enemy dance for you. At least those were the stories. He hadn’t heard of an actual puppeteer in decades. "Virilia said that if we do not bend by the spring she will send an Arm to wipe us out and remind us that the Le'Acard rule the south, not the Adoshade and we will be an example to all the other houses."

"CoLan is gone now?" DiSol nodded, "Who is running DisAdo now?"

"With my brother gone, I am. My father sent me here to beg," he'd never heard of a lonth begging before. "My father says that a Le'Acard who managed to find themselves a d'alaer were good, better than most. The other princes or princesses couldn't help us, they wouldn't be able to move quickly enough. But His Highness Vondugard-" he seemed lost for words for a moment. "CoLan will be gone until spring, until then I am running DisAdo.”

"Vondugard has till then to move," Spayar said softly.

DiSol nodded, "When my brother returns he will set his army at the border of LoHanJo'in and wait for Virilia to move against him. If he does we will lose. We may win the battle but we will be crippled. Our harvests have been horrible this year, our resources will be tight on our people as it is, let alone needing to feed and supply my brother’s army. A small army of lonths can hold back one branch of the Alliance army but the Alliance is a bottomless well of people. Virilia will just find more people, send the other Arms. We will be crushed."

"I understand," Spayar said, nodding, thinking quickly. This was a lot to take in. He wasn't aware the situation with the Adoshade was quite so dire. And the bad harvests weren’t just effecting the central Alliance. Even somewhere as far away as LoHanJo’in was suffering, like a malevolent hand of a god was pressed across the land. He needed to find out what other provinces would also suffer a food shortage this year once the harvest was brought in. One thing at a time though. He needed to focus on DiSol and making sure he could handle what was needed there. "Can you promise Vondugard lonths when it is time?"

"I will give you as many as you want. The Shade need a new Asuras. We will not exist past the spring if Virilia remains where she is."

"Why didn't you just go to Vondugard himself with this?"

“Spies follow him everywhere. I am good, but I'm not invisible. And we know you have his ear. We know you will speak for him." Spayar came up short on that. He did? Since when? "Do we have his Highness' help?"

"Yes," Spayar said, "You do.” If they were going to die in the Conflict might as well try to come out on top first. “We will move as soon as we can. Try to stall your brother, the Asuras' furies are short lived she may not send an army to you. But if what you're telling me comes to pass you're saying we have till the end of winter to prepare," DiSol nodded. "What about your father?"

"He's sick."

"With what?"

"We don't know, and we don't know if he'll get better soon. It may be a long illness," DiSol frowned. "He sees the error of putting my brother in command, but he's too sick for his orders to remove CoLan to be taken seriously. My brother just says our father is sick and doesn't know what he's saying."

"He's really a demon," Spayar said.

DiSol smiled a little, fractured, smile, "It's why they call him the Dawn Demon," he said.

"Return to DisAdo and tell your father Vondugard will help you. I also want to send a healer with you to look at your father."

"We have some of the best-

"It wasn't a request," Spayar said, "I know if my father was sick I'd want all the help I could get."

DiSol looked up at Spayar with grateful eyes, he bowed a little, "Thank you Hillsman," he said.

"Also tell your father that when he's better he must ensure that your brother can never take the Seat of Shadows," Spayar said. "I don't care how but the Dawn Demon is too volatile to be Shadow Lord."

"I agree," DiSol said.

"That is the price for the prince's help, that his eldest son can never become Shadow Lord."

"A price he will be willing to pay," DiSol said.

"Give me a day to find my healer friend, she will go with you back to DisAdo and see to your father."

"You're too kind. I will give you to the ninth morning bell tomorrow," DiSol said and Spayar nodded. "Thank you Hillsman," he said again.

"Make sure the Shade are ready to move in the spring."

"We will be, I promise," and his Shroud once again wrapped around his body, turning him into a black insect and then it covered his face, only his black eyes visible. He bowed to Spayar and then went to the window and eased the shutters open. DiSol climbed onto the sill and instead of dropping like Spayar expected DiSol stood up and climbed onto the roof, a black tendril of his Shroud snaking down and closing the shutters, locking them behind him. Spayar shuttered.

He stood there a few moments, looking at the shutters before everything seemed accelerated. He needed to get another letter out to Galinsum to Sinso that whatever progress he'd made on those grenados needed to happen faster. There was an accelerated time table. He jotted it down, folded it and shoved it into an envelope to take to the post office. This needed wyrm postage. It needed to get to Galinsum now. 

And he had to go see Mali, convince her to leave with DiSol and make the Shadow Lord well. And this was on top of all the other things he needed to get done in the time between Von returning from the gut, hopefully with good news about X’vazior at the least and hopefully others as well. What he needed was for Tassa to be home. He needed her.

He sealed the envelope with his personal mark and then spelled it so that if anyone but the intended recipient opened it it would burst into flames. He added an extra weave under that one so that if someone touched the top weave to investigate it that weave would trigger anyway. He rebuckled his leather jacket and grabbing the letter went back downstairs.

"Spayar where are you going?" his mother called as he grabbed his hat from the rack by the door

"Post office, then to see a friend, be right back," Spayar said, tucking the letter inside his jacket's breast pocket.

“Will you be back for dinner?”

“Yes,” Spayar said, looking at her through the window in the wall between the kitchen and the dining room. He could smell the wonderful food she was preparing.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, standing a bit more in view, the ceremonial scars on her forehead nearly touching from her furrowed brown.

He looked at her and frowned. He'd just cut his own life nearly in half with his agreement to help the Adohade. Before he'd had a year till the coup. With his declaration to help the Adohade he'd shortened it to just a few months. "No," he said and then turned and walked out the side door. Outside it was raining and Spayar put his wide, waterproof, hat on and walked off into the storm.

—

The rain during the fall was nearly constant in the Meltong Basin, and of course that was exactly where the winter capital was located, at the center of the Alliance. Spayar was watching the rain outside and people rush around under the awnings lining the sidewalks, or hunched over on horses or buggies. In the house it was warm and dry.

Mali was in the kitchen with his mother and he could hear the two of them talking, but wasn’t paying attention to their words. The sun had risen two bells ago but the sunlight was wane, wet, and gray. He was waiting for the ninth morning bell when DiSol would show himself and he and Mali would return to the LoHanJo'in province and DisAdo

He looked over when someone sat next to him, it was Calli. His perfect, proper, sixteen year old sister with more sense in her head than just about anyone Spayar knew. She was wearing a morning gown that came to her knees and had little yellow horses embroidered on it. She looked like she'd just woken up but yet was alert and keen. "Good morning," he said.

"Morning," she yawned a little, putting her hand over her mouth. "You're up early. Usually when his highness is away you sleep in."

"Busy," Spayar said, leaning against the arm of the chair. "Can't sleep now," literally. He'd tossed and turned all night and had dreams of a red eyed necromancer standing over his grave reading from the Red Book to summon a necrell that would take his soul to the Shadowed Lands. He hadn't been able to sleep after that nightmare.

"Busy with what?"

"It doesn't matter to you," he waved her inquiry away.

"Why, cause I'm a girl?" she asked.

He looked at her and laughed in her face, "Calli, I would never be so stupid as to keep a matter away from someone for as trivial a thing as gender. It doesn't matter to you because it literally has no bearing on your life if you know, and is better if you didn't know anyway."

"Why?"

"Because your brother is doing a very bad thing," he said softly looking away.

"Which is?"

He gave her a look, "If you're lucky you won't ever know," he said and looked back out the window. He could see the big bell tower from here, through the rain, its face illuminated from the inside, and knew it was close to the ninth bell.

"Spayar," Calli asked after a few minutes. He 'hmm'd at her. "Will you introduce me to some nobles?"

"Why would you want to do that?" though he didn't look at her.

"Because I want an interesting, wealthy, husband," and Spayar looked at her so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

"What?" he squeaked.

"I said-

"I know what you said," he waved her words away impatiently. "Calli, you're sixteen, and a commoner. You aren't obligated to marry," he reminded her.

"I know, but I will marry someone, someday."

"And you're sure you'll have a husband?" he challenged.

Calli came up short, she hadn't thought of that. Her brother would never have a wife like Duren probably would. He would never have children either. She thought about the implications of her sexuality for a moment, mulled them over and then said, "Yes, I will have a husband. I like boys, you're a good role model for liking boys," she smiled at him and he smacked her knee playfully, making her giggle. "And I want a good one. A courageous, handsome, wealthy, noble, husband," she said.

"Heh, well I can tell you bidi, those types of men are few and far between. Also why would you want a noble?"

"Because I never want to worry if something happens to us," Calli said. "Mama is always worried about you and I'm old enough to realize that if something happened to you..." she bit her lips, "dooim might not get as much business." He knew what she was saying. If he died in a coup, fighting against someone who beat Von, he'd be a traitor, and his family would be cast in that shadow. No one would want what his father made.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," Spayar promised. "And you don't want a noble husband. Nobles are awful. Trust me, I know plenty."

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

She blinked and knew she needed to proceed carefully. She licked her lips before saying, "Aren't you in love with a noble?"

"What? No,” he scoffed

"So you're not in love with the prince?" and Spayar's face went slack and he flushed brilliantly, the color probably showing a bit on his dark skin. She smiled a little, "You have no room to talk about wanting a noble husband," she said.

He scowled at her, "It is a completely different situation. Vondugard is my best friend and my prince, of course I love him."

"You know what I mean."

"You're completely delusional," he waved her off. "And you don't want a stupid, prideful, noble for a husband. You're sixteen, and too young and good for most of them."

"I won't know unless I meet them though will I?" she asked.

"No," he said sternly.

"At least let me come to her highness' Talalsalla's naming day party this year," she begged. “Please,” she put both hands over her heart in a begging fashion. “I promise I’ll be good.”

He huffed through his nose and puffed his cheeks out a bit. She gave him her best doe eyes. "Fine," he grunted and rolled his eyes a bit.

She got out of the chair and hugged him tightly, "Thank you. Thank you,” and then kissed him on both cheeks and between the eyes.

"Yeah yeah," and the clock started to ring. Nine bells. "Now I need to go do stuff," he pushed her off gently and stood. "Mali," he called and went to the kitchen. His mother and Mali were in there standing at the kitchen table. Relora was packing Mali a bag of food while Mali tried to say she didn't need it but Relora just shushed her and packed it anyway. Spayar's eyes went to the window as the shutter eased itself open and a dark, man shaped, mass slipped into the kitchen. If Spayar hadn't been looking at the window he'd have missed it and it would be as if DiSol had just appeared.

"Having fun?" Spayar asked them.

"Your mother is too kind," Mali said, slightly beside herself.

"Nonsense. We're having a bad harvest this year and I doubt you'll be able to get as good of food as this elsewhere,” Relora said kindly. “And Dirinnan food is made to put meat on those bones,” and she patted Mali’s belly with all the gentle love a mother could muster.

“Relora-

“I insist,” Relora said firmly.

Mali sighed a bit theatrically. “Fine. Is he here?" Mali asked turning to Spayar. Spayar had told her why she was going to LoHanJo'in and why it was important she make LouSai well as soon as possible. She'd been very against it at first but like always he convinced her. It wasn't good having a soft heart around Spayar, he'd abuse if for all he could and despite her hard exterior Mali had a very soft heart. 

"I am," and Mali and Relora both turned when DiSol spoke, standing behind them. Thankfully he wasn't wearing his Shroud over him, so he looked rather normal. "This is the healer you spoke of?" he asked Spayar, looking at Mali.

"Yes, this is Mali Thralluk," he said, "Mali, this is DiSol Adoshade."

"Never met a lonth before," she looked him up and down, "I expected them to be taller." DiSol frowned at her but didn't take the bait. Mali turned back to Relora, "Thank you so much Relora, you're too good to me."

"Of course dear. Any friend of Spayar's is always welcome at our home and table."

“We should leave, before the rain gets worse,” DiSol said emotionlessly.

”Right, c’mon,” he nodded to Mali and DiSol and they followed him out of the kitchen. Despite just being out in the rain DiSol wasn't wet so he didn't have to worry about the lonth tracking water into the house. They left the house and stood under the second story overhang that looked out onto the side yard. While he'd been gone his mother had picked some of the produce and that made him nervous. Usually she only picked the produce when there was a fear of it wilting or being washed away by the rains. She'd picked it early. "Mali is aware of the situation," he told DiSol, who nodded, "while she's there she'll be acting as Vondugard's voice."

"Does she have the same authority as you?" DiSol asked.

Mali and Spayar looked at one another. Neither of them kidded themselves in who was higher, who held more weight and authority, "No," he said. "But if she promises something for Vondugard it's likely to be carried out," he gave Mali a look to make sure she knew not to fuck it up. He trusted her though, After Tassa and Von Mali was one of his oldest friends, even if they hadn’t started on perhaps the most honest of terms. “She knows what to do, do you?"

"When we return to LoHanJo'in I'll keep my brother occupied and away from DisAdo for as long as I can."

"I'll send the summons for aid through Mali. You march on her say," DiSol looked at her and then nodded slowly. "Good," Spayar wracked his brain, what else could he do? Not much. He'd done everything he could really. "Safe journey," he kissed Mali on her cheeks and between her eyes, "Make the Shadow Lord well," he ordered.

"He'll be skipping through fields of flowers in no time," she promised him with a smile.

"I'll hold you to that.”

"Let's go," DiSol said seriously, "I've already been away from LoHanJo'in long enough. I need to get back."

"Goodbye Spayar," Mali said.

"Keep her safe," Spayar said sternly as he saw the two to the high walled fence, rain splattering across Spayar’s head. Mali's horse was in the shed with his own mare and she went to get it.

"You have my word," DiSol said, "no harm will come to her."

"I can take care of myself," Mali said, “I did my time, remember?” she gave him a look.

"Just let me worry a little," Spayar half pleaded.

She grinned, "We'll see you in spring," and DiSol drew his Shroud over his body and face as Mali put on her wide hat, mounted her horse and entered the rain again trotting out to the road, her horse seemed miserable. She waved and then turned the corner onto the road and was out of sight. A half moment later Spayar saw a black shadow streak after her. Spayar frowned after them. There was nothing he could do now. He'd done all he could. He closed the door and went back inside.

—

It was drizzling miserably while Spayar walked down the road bundled against the wet, his wide hat casting rain over his shoulder in a sick dribble. It never got cold in Assarus but it did get chilly and fall had come with a vengeance, dumping feet of rain in short order with the promise of more. It was expected in Assarus even this early in the fall. Asurala  had started now and they had five weeks of miserable rain until it petered out in Neyjarra and finally stopped in Lun save for the normal rain storm until spring started and the Meltong flooded from the snow out west in the Spine melting.

He was in the middle of Uptown close to the mouth of the lake that the city surrounded. Tassa’s apartment was around here. Her father had bought it for her. Part to give her independence and part to get her to stop having sex all over his house. Spayar liked Kenna, he was nice, if having the personality of a mouse. He had always struggled to keep Tassa in line. Spayar didn't know where Tassa got it.

He was grateful to get out of the drizzle as he stepped into the foyer of a nice building. It was warm and dry inside with a guard desk who's main duty was to protect the mail slots along the front of the desk, keep any large packages, and call the actual guards should there be any need. Spayar shook himself just a bit on the mat inside the door to get the worst of the water off before stepping into the shiny wooden floors.

“Hello, can I help you?” the desk guard asked.

“Is Tassa Peony home?” he asked.

“I didn't see her leave this morning and the night guard didn't give any indication she hadn't been in all night.”

“Great,” Spayar said and signed his name on the guestbook. “I’m a friend,” he added.

“The young miss has lots of those,” the guard eyed him.

“No like actually,” Spayar chuckled and left the desk without saying much else.

Tassa had a ground floor apartment with a front porch onto the courtyard the building surrounded. As he got near he passed through the gentle cobwebs of a magical weave Tassa had coccooned the entrance of her home in. She might have been the daughter of a noble but that didn't mean the guards wouldn't have a good reason to arrest her. A bored mind and quick hands tended to get that sort of negative attention that would warrant such a weave. Spayar just coated his fingers in magic and gently pushed aside the ornately constructed threads that looked a lot like a larger and more complex version of the one on the back of his bedroom door. He just didn't need them touching him. Had he not been looking through magic he wouldn't have even seen it much less felt it.

He knocked inside the pocket free of magic right against the door. He made sure to knock loudly. Tassa came to the door after a solid minute of him knocking wearing a shift that was barely hanging off one shoulder her hair more disrupted than simple bed head would do. “Spayar?” she squinted at him. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

He looked at the clock on the post in the center of the courtyard, “It’s chems, Tassa,” he said.

“What? Chems?” she grumbled a little, “I stayed up too late.”

“Yes. May I come in, we need to talk.”

“Sure. I'll make something,” she yawned and waved him in.

Tassa’s apartment was as though a storm had ripped through it. It was one bedroom and bath and a living room and things lay in disarray all over. Papers and dishes were arranged hazardously on flat surfaces, brushes and makeup products lay scattered across tables and the floor. The couch looked more like a bed and a large pipe was leaned up against the wall. Spayar didn't mention any of it and just joined Tassa in her tiny kitchen where she was carelessly etching a weave in the air with magic coated fingers. The heat ring started glowing almost instantly. She put a pot from above on it and fingers still coated in magic connected two pieces of a larger weave together that caused the sink faucet to open and water to pour directly from it into the pot. It would disintegrate over time to stop the pot from overflowing.

She slouched onto the table across from Spayar, pulling a slender leg up to rest on the seat of the chair, casually brushing her hair with her fingers with mixed success. “Have fun last night?” he asked her, smiling.

“You’re lucky you're so pretty,” she groaned and rubbed her face. “Me and the girls went out last night down to the Den, got into some trouble.”

“Nothing serious?”

“Not even,” she sighed, “just welcoming me home.” As she said that a man left her bedroom, looked at the two of them and hustled out. Another bustled out quickly after him. 

“Fun huh?”

“Would have been more fun with you around,” she said and rubbed the top of his hand.

“You know I don't like white guys,” he said with a grin.

“Well, most white guys,” she said.

“I assure you I don't know what that means.”

She pulled her hand back, “So what's up?” she asked and looked at the last person to stumble out of her bedroom. This was a lady in much better condition than the two men. “You the last one, love?” Tassa called.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I think so,” she grinned at Tassa. Spayar vaugely recognized her meaning it was a friend of Tassa’s who didn't run in their circle. “You’re buying next time,” she waved as she left.

“She seems nice.”

“Uhhhhg, she's so hot I hate herrrr,” Tassa groaned and leaned on one arm.

Spayar laughed. “Yeah I can relate,” he said with a grin. Tassa got up and took the boiling water off the heat rim, deactivating the weave with a crook of her finger and poured the water into two mugs. She scooped an herbal mixture into two tea balls and put them into the cups. From a cupboard she produced beet sugar cubes, stained slightly pink for effect, some strawberries and two day old bread that was partially eaten to go with the butter on the table.

“Chems,” she announced grandeously as she set the tea and food down between them.

“How gracious. Your father wouldn't even recognize you,” he said, not adding any sugar to his tea while Tassa added about six.

“Hardy har har,” she stirred her tea with a weave of magic that turned it into a mini maelstrom. “What are you doing here and not a more appropriate hour of the day?”

Spayar popped a strawberry into his mouth. “I heard the thief lord died.”

“Uhg, not this now,” she moved her hair in annoyance. 

“You didn't mention it when I saw you.”

“I forgot and by the time I remembered I figured you'd know already,” she said and sipped her tea.

“What’s this Cross guy like?”

“Western fence who got a taste for the business way I heard it. Came from a city around Galinsum I think. Showed up in Assarus few months ago, killed Jackertty with their own knife. He doesn't like people.”

“You mean he doesn't like you.”

“He’s skittish around girls. Meet him and you'll see why- no. Spayar stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, leaning on the table a bit, giving her his best innocent eyes. 

“You don't want to meet Cross. He’s not like Jackertty.”

“I know.”

“He’s way more cut throat.”

“We’d get along then.”

“Spayar I am serious!”

“Me too. I can't have some unknown entity in my city. I use his hands as my eyes. Pays to visit the boss.”

“Spayar I don't-

He leaned across the table and put his hand on hers, “Tassura,” he said gently like the bastard he was. “I need your help.”

Spayar-

“Please, Tassura?” he kept his voice low and sweet. Only he and her father were allowed to call her Tassura, her real name. It was a soft and intimate familiarity that wasn't allowed by most Aldashi outside of family or their lovers. It was a weakness Tassa didn't let anyone have over her other than those few she loved. Spayar was a real wretch for using it now and he knew it.

“I— guess I could,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” he squeezed her wrist gently and let her go. “How was your trip back with Vondugard?” The prince wasn't back I'm the city yet. He'd taken a long route around and detoured down Maker’s End to the land around and past Gorum, see if any help could be drummed up there. 

“He needed you,” she said.

“He sent me ahead-

“I meant in the past two years. You could have waited to serve time.”

“Again, also something I couldn't control,” Spayar said.

“He’s soft, Spayar. I worry.” Not about Von, Tassa was worried about Spayar. “X’vazior almost said no.”

“But did he?”

“No. I lied for him.”

Spayar sighed and rubbed his face, “He’s too nice is what you're telling me?”

“He cares too much to be an effective emperor,” she used the Aldashi word for it but Spayar knew it. Kenna called Verilia emperor when he was pissed at her, or when he spoke ill of the princes and princesses. Wasn't fully bilingual in any one Alliance tongue but Spayar knew enough in a lot of them to get by.

“He’s too nice,” Spayar groaned, still rubbing his face. “He’s always too nice.”

“If you don't want to get killed when Teldin finally attacks he needs to toughen up.”

“I know,” he put his hands down and sipped his tea. Tassa had two strawberries, the red juice staining her olive lips. “You’ll set something up with Cross for me?”

She sipped her tea. “ What do I get? You're a deal maker.”

“What do you want? And don't say sex you know I like girls even less than white boys.”

“Oh, I gave that up years ago,” she lied. Spayar knew she hated it was a lie too. “How about you owe me one?”

“An unspecified favor? Tassa you were hanging around the Peony too much,” he smirked.

“Is that a yes?”

“So long as it isn't sex, sure.”

“It isn't,” she rolled her eyes.

“Then yes. A favor. Just keep it of similar magnitude?”

“I will. Are you going to stay for the rest of chems?” she worried the point of a strawberry with her index finger distastedly.

“I guess. You made me tea and everything. It doesn't have anything in it does it?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed and popped the entire strawberry into her mouth. “You enjoy I'm going to get some real clothes on,” and she got up. Spayar privately rolled his eyes. Her shift was barely long enough to cover her buttocks in the back. He sipped his tea and buttered some bread. 

Tassa ended up throwing a final, third, man out of her house while he got dressed. They cast a furtive look at Spayar as they scuttled away and he just smiled and waved. They grimaced and bolted, fearing him being her actual boyfriend. He just enjoyed the rest of the chems until Tassa came back out, brushing her hair with a wide toothed brush to get it under some control. “Want some help feeding the afternoon birds? You know they like me,” she leaned against his shoulder luxuriously.

“I’d be remiss to say no,” he said. She grabbed another strawberry and went to put on some shoes. Spayar crammed the last bit of buttered bread into his mouth and shot the rest of his tea before following her. “It’s still raining, bring an umbrella.”

“Who do you take me for Spayar?” she asked and selected one of her six umbrellas in the stand by the door. This one was wide and deeply curved, rain cloud gray on the outside with a red lace trim and an array of red hibiscus on the inside. It matched her wine bodice and scaldingly red leather breeches that clung to her legs and hips in a way that was meant to be distracting.

“Of course, I forgot to whom I spoke,” he teased and opened the door. “After you, my lady,” he swept his arm out teasingly.

“Oh thank you, my Lord. How gracious,” she said with an extra girlishly giggle and stepped out of her front door. The rain had intensified while he'd been inside. He put his hat on before stepping out and locking the door. Tassa waved a hand at the door, locking a weave across the front like a cage to prevent entry.

“Shall we, my lady?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“Oh my Lord,” she batted her lashes at him making him chuckle as she took his offered arm and they left the building complex through the front. Tassa opened her umbrella, sheilding them from unwelcoming eyes as they headed for one of the places Spayar went to to hear the news from his birds.

[ahungeringknife]

OC in 15

tagged by @aziz-reads

tagging @flowers-of-io @tabswrites @owlsandwich just three because tagging so many times is x.x

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

This is foooor Spayar. My boI! I just combed through the first three chapters I didn't wanna go into back drafts :,D

“As delightful as losing my gag reflex was I have other civil work to do.”

“I’m a dumb foolish boy though, amma." (amma is Dirnine for 'mother')

“He’s such a pain in the ass.”

“What can I say? I’m very charming."

“What’s in it for me? I only work for free to Vondugard.” ... “Of course. I am a man who always pays in full.” (they were very close in the scene and I feel like they Go Together)

“There you are." ... “Can you wrap this up? I’m on a schedule,”

“He’s a North. You think I’m a snake? Nothing worse than someone who sells out their entire country to get ahead.”

You get to stop the Shadow Lord from dying. It’s an honor. Under no circumstances is he to die. I don’t care what you do. What unethical shit needs to be done. He cannot die.”

[ahungeringknife]

This chapter more than any other has remained the most consistent through rewrites and drafts. Takes you out of the house where Spayar is a doting big brother and loved oldest child into the actual work he does to plan a coup to kill the rest of the royal family.

If you'd like to be pinged for updates drop me a line. Info links are all at the bottom including AO3.

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The Zealous Servant | 2 | South Garden

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South Garden was a bustling neighborhood where you could get just about anything you wanted. Unlike the gridded streets of Bellringer which had been meticulously planned by the Craftsmans' Guild centuries ago South Garden was an older part of the city where roads had just appeared between buildings and then everyone had crammed into spaces next to each other. Colorful awnings dotted the front of the buildings' fronts often overlapping each other and the street casting the roads into brilliant colors in the dull gray light of the drizzle. Unlike in Bellringer where houses had enough spaces for gardens the homes of South Garden were so close the walls touched and some buildings even shared them. They seemed to hang over the streets but unlike some neighborhoods Spayar never felt like the buildings would fall in on you. You wanted to experience that The Cradle was just on the other side of the river or even more crowded Downriver further away still. The upper windows all held flower boxes and it wasn't uncommon for long trailing flowering plants to drape down low over the road. Traffic in South Garden was regulated to foot traffic or small petty taxis. No coaches allowed so it was a safe neighborhood to walk about freely. Which was good as according to Senior it was somehow getting more dangerous than usual to be on the streets in Bellringer as the number of run-overs by coaches had increased in the last few months.

Spayar just followed after Calli with the shopping. He'd made a big deal about it earlier but it was easier to just let her do it. She knew what they needed. He'd handed over the list and his wallet and let her buy up the processed goods and gather the raw. He stood behind Calli boredly as she was looking over some already shelled nuts. He was just looking around, catching no one's attention in particular, listening to side talk. He was honestly looking for a place to sit for a bit and let the right people notice him.

He was in the middle of a yawn when he saw someone across the street staring at him. Calli was bartering with the stall owner over the price of almonds they were selling and completely oblivious. They were a man, nondescript in appearance wearing the fashion from a few years ago, and he was just looking at Spayar in surprise. Then he made a hand sign at Spayar in thieves cant. He was so out of practice in this after two years in the Arm. Even worse than Dirnine. But after a second he remembered the corresponding hand sign. The man walked away with a nod. Spayar looked away as Calli finished her transaction.

"Five silver for a pound of badly shelled almonds, what a scam," Calli complained after they were out of earshot of the nut seller.

"Bad year?" Spayar asked.

"Its the principle of the thing," she huffed. "Last year it was three silver."

"Is he the only nut seller?"

"That doesn't just sell flour, yes," she was annoyed as they walked the street to their next destination. "Everyone's double processing their raw it seems. It's infuriating."

"The fact that he's selling them just shelled is almost illegal so you can take solace in that at least," Spayar said idly. Selling raw food products or living animals strictly for consumption was illegal in the Alliance. The government paid all farmers and ranchers for their products on maturity and it was distributed by the farmers themselves. If you wanted to sell food stuffs you had to process it in some way, cook it, make it into flour or cheese or do something to change it from its natural state.

"He didn't even roast them!" Calli cried and Spayar chuckled. "Amma wanted me to pick up some spices from her favorite shop so just wait out here. I'll be a bit and see if I can't pry some cinnamon or cardamom from them."

"Good luck," Spayar said and Calli went into a cheerfully lit shop. He glanced inside and saw it was run by some Dirinians as well if Calli's greeting in Dirnine was anything to go off of.

Well knowing Dirinians that would be a while. He went and found a bench to sit on and sighed like he was weary. The bench was damp but not wet and his jacket covered the back of his thighs. He kicked his legs out and got comfortable, reminding himself where the nearest post office was. He needed to get this letter out of Theo.

He glanced over when a man, a different man from before, sat next to him. Spayar recognized him instantly, pale skinned with a shock of blond hair he dyed black but was always showing at the roots. He was a muscly type with a surprisingly honest face. "Jimon," he said in greeting, he was in a thin rain coat, no hood or hat.

"Spayar," he replied back. "Cannin nearly shit himself he was so shocked to see you back out and about." Spayar chuckled. "Showed up at Lonni's acting all crazy. We all had to tell him to shut the blazes up. Wasn't like you died or anything."

"That'd be a neat trick if I had, though," Spayar smirked. "You know Cannin doesn't know what to do around pretty guys," and that made Jimon give a loud well meant laugh. "Didn't even recognize him. Finally got a hair cut."

"Yeah. His lady made him get it shaved off when he came home with lice last month." Spayar grimaced in sympathy.

"So," Spayar started off lowly but casually. He didn't necessary want their conversation overheard. Not that it was probably anything but old news but better safe than sorry. "What's the beat?"

"Depends," Jimon held out his hand palm up on top of his thigh.

"Don't insult me, Jimon," Spayar rolled his eyes.

"Just checking. You were gone two years. Things changed."

"I can't imagine they changed that much-

"Jackkerty's dead."

Spayar needed a moment to process that. "He's what?" That was... not the worst thing in the world but far from the best. Shit.

"Dead. Got got. There's a new master of the Tithing Court now," Jimon said with absolute grim seriousness Spayar couldn't recall seeing in him in a long time even before he'd left.

"I see. Who's the mark?"

"Calls themselves the Pale Cross. Foreigner best we can tell. They've got a retched accent if they aren't," Jimon's face pinched.

"Jackkerty let a foreigner get the better of him? Really?"

"Yeah. We were surprised too. Lonni said they all went in one day for their usual meeting and he was gone and Pale Cross was in his place. Didn't believe at first. Found his body in his house in Middleton later that day."

"Well shit," Spayar said softly. He wasn't really torn up about Jackkerty's death. Not really. Jackkerty had been a fool. But he knew the rules and was easily manipulated. Exactly how the Lord of the Tithing Court should be here in Assarus. "And how's he running the place?"

"They," Spayar noted the emphasis there as Jimon spoke, "don't get it. They aren't from here, acting like this is any other place. Collects more often and higher amounts. They already sent Black after a few of the street runners who didn't pay up, had him take some fingers. It's got everyone nervous and acting stupid. Doing risky things to meet pay day. The Strong Arm's starting to get annoyed and is looking at us."

That was serious. The royals and their spymaster were aware of the Tithing Court and tolerated it for the most part as it acted as a slight extension of their spy network. Petty thieves and people who ran illegal gambling rings heard all sorts of news and gossip a noted spy had more trouble sussing out. Petty thievery or an illegal gambling den wasn't punishable beyond a fine and some time in the city's jail. Never long. Few months. But if petty thievery wasn't making the tithing for this new Lord then they'd do bigger jobs. Start actual robbery, steal things of higher value. If the higher ranks did it it was expected but if the entire Court was suddenly hurting for money to pay their new Lord. It certainly would draw the Strong Arm's attention-- while technically all the guard in the city were part of the Strong Arm it was really only used for those who served on the palace grounds and Fey's Shadow where all the nobles kept their homes. If the Strong Arm got involved the royals got involved and they had a no tolerance policy. There'd be no raids or arrests. They'd just raze all of the Cradle and parts of Middleton to the ground to send a very clear message that this foolish 'guild' was no longer going to be tolerated.

"Someone's told them right?" Spayar asked.

"Of course! Not like they care. I think they think this is like wherever they came from and the guard has no idea where we are and we're some weird secret," Jimon grimaced. "They just want money."

"Ah. Grubber."

"Aye," Jimon spat on the ground to show how much he cared for that.

"And no one's killed them? Seems like a lot of bad without a lot of good."

"We've tried. They're a warlock of some sort. Ones who've tried end up dead instead. It's real annoying actually."

Made sense. Weren't many warlocks in the Tithing Court or who did assassinations. If you could use magic there was way better money to be made doing reasonable magic for people. That and the Adoshade tended to put a stop to any freelance blades in the dark. Spayar had asked one during his time why that was. LiSen, who never joked at all to begin with, had just said it was 'bad for their image'.

"So no one's talked any sense into them?"

"Not that they take seriously," Jimon sighed. As he did a woman walked by them, stopped, and did a double take, peering down at them from under her umbrella. "Not now Lenorr I'm talking his ear off," Jimon tried to wave her off.

"Well it must be awful then since Jimon is a real bore!" Lenorr cried and Spayar grunted when she helped herself to his lap. Lenorr, like most of the Court, wasn't much to look at, straight brown hair, round cheeks, wide hips and a narrow waist. She had pretty eyes he guessed. He wasn't much one for figuring out what made girls pretty unless someone told him directly. He'd consider it a character flaw if he actually gave a shit.

"Hello Lenorr, fancy seeing you here," Spayar said, slightly strained from her in his lap. Yeah sure, use your boss like part of the bench. Perfect, he thought.

"What are you telling him Jimon?"

"New boss."

"Oh, they're awful," Lenorr bemoaned.

"Bad for business I've been told," Spayar said.

"Terrible!"

"Woman will you pipe down," Jimon scolded her. Lenorr just rolled her eyes.

"So I take it I need a new introduction?" Spayar asked to keep the conversation going.

"Good luck with that."

"The court stays with them all the time," Jimon said.

"Why?"

"In case they do something stupid like kill someone like they killed some kid a few weeks ago because he didn't bring any money three times in a row and they considered that unacceptable. Slit the kid's throat and had him tossed into the Meltong. Guards went crazy about that. They were banging on the doors of every known crook or bend in the city seeing if we knew anything," he said it lowly but with great annoyance. "And of course we all said we didn't know anything. Now the entire court just stays there to stop them from doing it again. Stealing is one thing but we aren't murderers."

Spayar rubbed his eyes. "Great. So everyone's there all the time?"

"Well..." Lenorr started, "not Tassa. But no one's seen her in a while."

That did interest him. Von said he hadn't seen Tassa and she wasn't in the court? He'd have to pay her a visit.

"I see. Anything else happen while I was gone?" Spayar asked. He was quite over hearing them complain about their new boss honestly. The Pale Cross didn't worry him. They were shit. Everyone knew Lord of Tithing was a paper title for a weak crime scene just to keep the kleptomaniacs in line. He also knew the court were all soft handed thugs who were too afraid of death to tell the Pale Cross how it was. Spayar wasn't like that and he couldn't have some foreigner ruining his good thing with the thief's guild.

"When'd you get back?" Jimon asked.

"This morning," Spayar shrugged.

"So then you don't know what's been going on?"

"About?"

"Last year the thaw totally flooded the Mire. Most of it got torn down because of it, rot getting into the buildings. It hasn't been rebuilt properly yet."

"It's horrible down there," Lenorr agreed. "We've been getting a lot of new hands from there. There's nothing for them. Asuras isn't fixing it. Then this year that son of hers moved into the Winter Palace and she's been too afraid to come up and see the situation herself," she said scornfully. "Lots of people desperate to get out of the Mire but don't have a place to go home to so they come to us to get enough money for a place to stay."

"Can't get a job if you don't have an address," Spayar said softly. They both nodded slowly.

"Been a weird year and a half too. Too much water along the river basin and then not enough water between here and the White Foot Hills."

"My sister said prices for food products have gone up a bit," Spayar said remembering Calli's complaining of more than just the almonds.

"Yeah."

"And you're lucky to find raw most places," Lenorr said. "It gets grabbed up by processors so fast. Then before you can get that they sell to someone else who can afford a higher mark up and then they sell a secondary process for four times the amount."

"How much is bread?" Spayar asked.

"Two silver," Jimon said gravely.

Spayar nearly choked. "Silver? For a loaf of bread? That better be the best damn bread I've ever had!"

The two thieves laughed. "It's affecting different neighborhoods differently. Craft guild has a strong arm in Bellringer from what I hear. They go around, rounding up raw and single possessed food staples and give it out to guild members first and community members second." That explained why Spayar hadn't noticed the lack and even still could get rice. His father was a Master smith in the guild. His family wouldn't go without so long as the craftsman's guild was still operating in the city. "Fey's Shadow and Upriver of course are noticing nothing."

"Heard it was bad in D'linger for a bit at first before the university took over," Lenorr said thoughtfully. "Now anyone who's part of the university has access to their food stores, raw and processed, free of charge."

"Yeah. Probably best not to piss off the university warlocks by upcharging them for bread," Spayar said.

"I even heard some butcher in Middleton was trying to sell raw," Jimon said.

"No way."

"Unconfirmed rumor," he added quickly. "If it happened the Strong Arm certainly straightened it out quickly."

"Yeah I'd guess so. Anything else fun and exciting I should be aware of?"

"It's Tallasala's naming day soon. She's planning a big party despite Teldin's appearance," Lenorr said. "Thirty-seventh of Neyjarra." So less than two months away with this being the last few days of J'dorr and J'dorr was the shortest month of the year.

"Mmm, great. Well I'll see about getting a meeting with the Pale Cross and we can set them straight on some things."

"I certainly hope so."

"It's... worrying," Lenorr agreed.

"I can't leave you alone for even a minute can I?" the familiar voice of his sister cried as she came out of the spice shop.

"Pleasure," Jimon shook Spayar's hand where Spayar slipped him a gold. Then he stood up, dipped his head to Calli and wandered off, hands in his pockets, wandering back out into the multi colored light of the awning covered street.

"Ah yes, the only woman in your life, huh Spayar?" Lenorr teased him and very nearly shoving her tits in his face. He rolled his eyes making her give him a fox smirk.

"Well she doesn't crush my thighs so yes," he said and that made Lenorr laugh. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and as she got up he slipped her a gold as well. "Ta ta," and she went on her way.

"You've been back home less than five hours and I already find you covered in flirts," Calli huffed, arms cross. She looked very much like Relora then.

"What can I say? I'm very charming," Spayar asked with a smirk. Calli was unaffected and unamused.

"Well I wish you'd teach me that instead of arithmetic. Far more useful than math ever will be."

Spayar chuckled and got to his feet grabbing up the shopping in one arm. He looped the other arm around her as they walked. "Trust me, math is important. But also you just need to seem smarter than you are but not like you know you're smarter than you are, smarter than they are," he did impart some wisdom onto her. Which surprised her by the look on her face and honestly surprised him too. "Shouldn't be too hard. You're very clever and I know you got a smart mind behind that big forehead of yours," and he poked her in the middle of her high forehead.

She swatted at him. "Ahg! Horrid!" she cried, swinging her basket at him. Spayar laughed and jumped back, hands up. "To think I missed you while you were gone," she huffed angrily. But he knew she was just flustered.

"So what's next on the list?" Spayar asked. "Anything heavy for you to torture me with?"

"Yes," she said, still annoyed with him.

They ended up making a few more stops and Calli did find some heavy things to carry, a bag of sausage and cured meat and another with jars of jam and produce preserves. Despite the cooling air it was humid because of the rain and quite miserable honestly. Once the rain settled the humidity would go away but for now he was left to build up a bit of sweat in his rain jacket. "You think amma will be upset if we go home without everything on the list?" Calli asked as they stood at the other side of the big South Garden market.

"I don't even know what she looks like upset so that's doubtful," Spayar said. "What are we missing?"

"She wanted me to see if I could find some raw out here but..." she bit her lip.

"Probably not happening?" Spayar gathered.

"Unless you can make goat appear out of nowhere?"

"I'm a warlock but not that kind of magic," he said and that made her laugh.

"Well then I guess not."

"You could ask nicely," he said.

She shoved him annoyance. "That doesn't work. Let's get home before it starts raining properly."

"We need to stop at the post office. I have a letter to mail." Calli made an agreeable noise and they headed for the closest post office a few streets over.

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Tag list: @full-on-sam @thegodsaredead

If you'd like to be pinged for this let me know. Replies or asks are fine. Reblogs would be wonderful and are encouraged. My ask box is open if you wanna know more~

ZS tag | Masterpost | References | Read it on AO3

[ahungeringknife]

So Spayar is effectively a DnD Warlock, more or less. Or a cleric. He talks to a higher power that sometimes helps him out but doesn't directly give him his power.

Apparently in the time Spayar has been my OC the 'your Warlock patron is your sugar daddy' came, became a tired trope, and went and I never even knew??? And now I guess it's passe to have your Warlock's patron basically be their sugar daddy. Which on Spayar would be HILARIOUS bc Densinn is like the epitome of the broke drop out god his fathers forgot. He has nothing to offer Spayar other than 'I'm divine :)'

And while Densinn did maybe wanna fuck Spayar before the relationship they have now is way funnier

Spayar saw this god begging for attention and went 'okay I'll give you attention. And now you work for me'. Densinn isn't... completely aware of this until the Inciting Incident when OH. Actually yeah he works for Spayar fucking OOPS

[ahungeringknife]

Sip of Snips 1/13: Glass

In Star Wars Mandalore is always described as getting 'glassed' which I always thought was a really interesting way of describing the planet who's surface was completely destroyed. I figure at the power levels in the FA they'd be able to do something similar

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“CoLan has… closed our borders,” he admitted in a secretive quiet.

More treason. Well what was Spayar’s life if not a little more treason? “Only the Shadow Lord-

“He is acting Shadow Lord while our father is ill.” Spayar stood there holding the envelopes waiting for DiSol to continue, raising his brows slightly. And what exactly was CoLan doing with that power? “No information in or out. He shunted out the military part of Forth Arm and has the border with Relua patrolled at all hours. Anyone trying to get in or out are killed.”

Even worse than Spayar thought! Even worse than treason. Somehow. What the fuck was going on down in LoHanJo’in? No wonder the Shadow Lord had sent his younger son to come beg someone to do anything. CoLan was going to get his entire province glassed. “… What?” he asked slowly, carefully, in a way that let DiSol know that that was insane.

[ahungeringknife]

Sip of Snips 1/19: dismiss

Being reminded of all my OCs in this story makes my brain go brrrrrr. This takes place like... idk... 10 years after Spayar's main story? I haven't decided on a timeline that far away :^)

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“Well?”

“Well what? She’s a fourteen year old girl. That old bastard X’vazior stole our first pick. Now we get the sloppy seconds. Sure you know all about that though Hillsman,” he said dismissively. Spayar said nothing. “Answer me this girl. If you leave here, how well do you take orders?”

“Well,” she said.

“Yeah? How well? Well ain’t nothing. Its a pretty word aristocrats use when they don’t know shit. Any noble can fight well. What’s that usually mean, aye Hillsman?” he shot a look at Spayar.

“Honestly I’d be happy if they could parry a strike.”

“Exactly. Now girl. I’ll ask you again; how well do you take orders?”

“If the orders aren’t stupid I take them just fine,” Chessa said, staring defiantly up at Simone.

[ahungeringknife]

Sip of Snips 1/18: practice

Spayar has a bad case of 'is good at everything' and everyone expects him to be on top of his shit at all times every time

====+====

He was in the middle of a yawn when he saw someone across the street staring at him. Calli was bartering with the stall owner over the price of almonds they were selling and completely oblivious. They were a man, nondescript in appearance wearing the fashion from a few years ago, and he was just looking at Spayar in surprise. Then he made a hand sign at Spayar in thieves cant. Oh he was dreadfully out of practice in this after two years in the Arm. Even worse than Dirnine. But after a second he remembered the corresponding hand sign. The man walked away with a nod. Spayar yawned again as Calli finished her transaction.

[ahungeringknife]

sip of snips 1/15: sit

Since I originally wrote Spayar and Von I've gotten a lot better at writing older teenagers/young adults. Basically I just make them stupid and it's perfect. This is your friendly reminder that even your most competent 17-21 yr old is an idiot sometimes.

====+====

Sitting next to his sister was someone very out of place in a family home of dark skinned Dirinnans. Or it would have been if Von hadn’t spent most of their childhood sneaking out of the Palace to come have meals and sleepovers at Spayar’s. “You,” he pointed at Von sitting next to Calli.

They both whipped around at his voice. Von pointed right back. “You. What are you doing here?”

“I live here!” Spayar cried and Calli giggled into her hand. “What’s your excuse?”

“I was in the area,” Von said with that annoyingly handsome smile of his that made him like a sunbeam.

“Lemp’s ball sack you were,” Spayar said and sat across from Von at the table.

[ahungeringknife]

Find the word tag

tagged by: @owlsandwich

my words: blade, comfortable, dull and impress

tagging: open tag! Tag me if you wanna do these I'd love to see them.

Your words: hidden, infusion, watch, glint

Blade

“They just want money.” “Ah. Grubber.” “Aye,” Jimon spat on the ground to show how much he cared for that. “And no one’s killed them? Seems like a lot of bad without a lot of good.” “We’ve tried. They’re a warlock of some sort. Ones who’ve tried end up dead instead. It’s real annoying actually.” Made sense. Weren’t many warlocks in the Tithing Court or who did assassinations. If you could use magic there was way better money to be made doing reasonable magic for people. That and the Adoshade tended to put a stop to any freelance blades in the dark. Spayar had asked one during his time why that was. LiSen, who never joked at all to begin with, had just said it was ‘bad for their image’.

Comfortable

“Good luck,” Spayar said and Calli went into a cheerfully lit shop. He glanced inside and saw it was run by some Dirinians as well if Calli’s greeting in Dirnine was anything to go off of. Well knowing Dirinians that would be a while. He went and found a bench to sit on and sighed like he was weary. The bench was damp but not wet and his jacket covered the back of his thighs. He kicked his legs out and got comfortable, reminding himself where the nearest post office was. He needed to get this letter out of Theo.

Dull

On the landing pad the two wyrms were stretching their legs from the flight and one was already starting to curl up like a sleeping cat, its bristles and razor scales and spines laying flat so it looked like a smooth dull gray stone. Porters were running around the back of the cabin, a aerodynamic cylinder with a couple of portholes and two doors, unloading the luggage. A man he’d served time with knocked shoulders with him, “So you coming back for more fun, Hillsman?” he asked. “As delightful as losing my gag reflex was-“ he paused when the man laughed “- I have other civil work to do.”

Impress

“I want to get some sleep before lunch? Before I have to get to work,” he sighed. She laughed softly. “And you work so hard, Junior,” she said gently. “But try to take a few days off hmm?” “I’ll see how long I can avoid the Prince then,” he told her like a secret and she didn’t look impressed by that at all knowing such a thing was impossible. “I’ll get that nap in at least.” “Alright. I’ll have Duren wake you for lunch,” and she hugged him one more time.

[ahungeringknife]

365: June 18-19

It was a novelty to sit with his new friend and not understand a word they were saying. Von knew six languages at his age well enough to read and write and about two dozen more well enough to be polite or make appearances in a Governor's court. They were all Feylon tongues from across the Alliance and as crown prince he was expected to know at least a handful of all the languages of the various provinces. Some had no official second language and he was off the hook for them but others spoke and taught it as much if not more than the Alliance's official language of Feylian. But he'd never heard any language like the one spoken by the commoner boy he'd weaseled his way into being friends with that he spoke with his siblings and family and the neighbor kids. Von just had to stand there smiling nicely like he didn't mind at all.

In truth he utterly hated it.

They never spoke for very long. A phrase here. An exchange there. A joke passed between street kids. And Von just stood by as good as deaf to what they were saying.

It was normally rude to ask someone what language they spoke and unthinkable to insist someone speak your preferred language unless it was Feylian. Especially by a prince like Von. He should know all the languages of the Alliance but listening to Spayar talk with his mom and his 'aunties' in the living room just strung Von's anxiety up that he didn't know a word he was saying. Especially when they laughed at a joke Spayar said, their smiles cuts of white teeth in their dark skin.

"Okay we can go," Spayar said to Von like he'd never spoken otherwise and grabbed Von's hand to pull him out of the house. Anyone else wouldn't have dared lay a hand on Von like this but Spayar was a commoner and it was such a breath of fresh air Von never resisted or scolded him for it.

"What was that about?" Von asked as they left the house out of the alley side door where the Hillsman family had a small yard for a garden surrounded by a fence.

"I was telling my mom we were going to go play with the other kids."

"But what did you say to make them laugh?"

"Huh?" Spayar opened the gate and Von walked out into the paved alley.

"You made your mom and her friends laugh. What did you say?" Von pressed. He hated not knowing.

"Oh! Someone said 'make sure the heir washes his feet before you leave'," Spayar said and Von was taken aback. Spayar was just smiling.

"What?" Von asked bewildered as he followed after Spayar down the alley to the main road.

"It's a Dirin saying," Spayar said thoughtfully. "I guess it doesn't translate across very well," he tapped his dark chin.

"Well what's it mean?"

"Don't let you get me into trouble-

"I would never!" Von cried making Spayar laugh. He had such a wonderful laugh. It was the most honest laugh Von had ever heard. No one had honest smiles, laughs, or words in the palace. "That is what you're speaking? Dirin language?"

"Dirnine, yeah. Why?"

"I've never heard of it," Von said as they walked down the street, minding the pedal carts, rickshaws, and horse drawn carts and buggies. Then he asked quite a faux pas, "Is it from the Alliance?" and did his best not to wince.

"No. What you didn't guess?" and Spayar cupped his ears at Von jokingly. They were round on the top. Von had honestly never noticed. "My family is from across the Shard."

"Oh!" Von felt so stupid now. Of course! Dirin! He was not the best at geography and Dirin was a country along the top of the Shard Sea to the west. It was a desert country if he recalled but very wealthy. His family history lessons touched briefly on past relations between the Alliance Asarus and the Dirin Rajas. If he recalled it'd nearly ended in an intense naval war over Dirin's acceptance of slavery and the Raja at the time had sent some as a gift to the Asarus. Von's ancestor had answered with swift violence to the 'slight'. That had been almost a thousand years ago though. "Of course, Dirin," Von smacked his forehead with his palm making Spayar snicker.

"I'm surprised you don't know it with your fancy pants schooling," Spayar said.

"Only Ambassadors learn foreign languages. My family is already expected to know so many its our one mercy," Von sighed.

Spayar didn't say anything for a moment. "So you can't understand when me and our street friends make jokes?" Von shook his head. "No wonder you never laugh. Everyone just thinks you're stuck up-

"I am not!" Von cried.

Spayar snickered. "I mean... a little. You are royalty. They're kinda stuck up," Spayar teased him. Von grumbled. "I'll tell them so you don't have to," Spayar said nicely, saving him his ego. But it annoyed him. He should know! He could. He could learn? He could learn actually. He didn't tell Spayar this. He wanted it to be a surprise.

--

It had been a real feat to convince his mother and his tutors that no it wasn't a waste of his time to learn Dirnine. The two countries didn't interact much with such theologically different ideologies and Dirin was still embroiled in a civil war. They'd closed their borders to Monarchy ships years ago. Dirin's civil war was their own problem. A boiling over of their millennial long caste strife. Or that was what his tutors told him and why he didn't need to learn Dirnine. But he wanted to dang it! He wanted to be able to talk with Spayar and his street friends and Spayar's family who all spoke Dirnine.

He'd figured out the basics in the first few weeks. He'd learned so many languages already that adding one more wasn't that hard. The sounds in Dirnine weren't like the ones on this side of the continent. Lots of hard vowels and consonant sounds next to each other that weren't common in Alliance languages.

Being exposed to it at the Hillsmans and Spayar's neighborhood friends helped train his ear to it but he didn't let them know he'd learned how to listen to them. He wanted it to be a surprise.

A few months in he could have a sort of conversation with his tutor. As Spayar's naming day was coming around he worked extra hard. He wanted to give Spayar his gift and say the traditional Dirin saying you did at someone's naming day celebration. He'd had a beautiful raincoat commissioned for his friend. The best materials money could buy from the Hillsman's normal tailor so he didn't have to sneak Spayar's measurements. He was excited to give Spayar his gift. He didn't normally give gifts for naming days. Not that he couldn't but as royalty it was 'beneath him'. Which was stupid. A lot of rules for his family were stupid.

Spayar's naming day was a big deal. He was turning twelve. Von was surprised at how nice and big the party was considering they were commoners. Spayar's mom, who Von often wished was also his mom, had made enough food to feed an entire Arm! It was also a lot of food Von had never seen before. Meaning it was from Dirin. But it all tasted really good. All of Spayar and Von's street friends were there and some friends Von didn't know from Spayar's school like the prettiest girl Von had ever seen. She was older than them and taller and hung off Spayar's shoulder the entire time. He couldn't stop staring at her.

"Can I help you?" and Von swallowed his tongue when she asked him. She even had a pretty voice.

"Uh- ah-" he stammered.

"Tassa don't be annoying," Spayar said to her.

"It's rude to stare," she said.

"You're a lot to look at," Spayar rolled his dark eyes.

"Well someone must make you the center of attention," she declared. And she certainly was with her brightly colored, expensive, and well made clothes and her black hair in a cute braid Von saw on Spayar's street aunties but her skin was light and like the color of wet sand.

"It's my naming day. I am the center of attention," Spayar bickered back.

Tassa rolled her eyes. "Anyway who's the newt?"

"My friend Von."

"Von what?"

Spayar looked at him and Von looked back with a gulp. "Just Von," he said.

She looked him over but Von had never seen her before nor she him. "Okay," she shrugged.

Von kept his eyes away from her the rest of the party. She was right, it was rude to stare at people and Von always prided himself on being polite. Food was eaten and games were had and gifts were given casually throughout to not draw too much attention to the giftee getting spoiled. It was just polite.

The party went on into the late afternoon and early evening. The party started to thin. Von found Spayar with his new baby brother sitting on a reed woven bench under the house's overhang of the patio. Spayar looked about to pass out himself and his baby brother Duren was asleep against his side. He perked up when Von came over. "Von," he smiled slightly, lifting his hand that wasn't holding the toddler against his side.

Von finally held out his gift. "A new gift for the new you this year," he said in Dirnine with probably a terrible accent. But it didn't matter. He'd said it and knew it was right.

Spayar's eyes widened. "That- can you actually speak Dirnine or just say that?" he asked.

"Who do you take me for?" Von asked back.

Spayar laughed. "Why?"

"I like hearing all the jokes," he smiled at his friend. "And this," he offered the wrapped coat again.

Spayar took it and opened it. He knew Spayar didn't like bright colors but he had to get Spayar out of black and gray sometimes. So the coat was very dark blue like the color of the Meltong and had some piping along the seams in a bit brighter blue. The lining was blue-gray of storm clouds and could be unbuttoned from the outer shell if you wanted to add more layers or just wear the lining on its own since it was also very soft. "Von," Spayar looked at him with his big dark eyes. He gently released Duren and got up to pull on the rain coat. Von had gotten it to the knee to keep splashes down. It was very fashionable if he did think so. It was absolutely crucial for a citizen of Assarus to have a good rain coat since it rained for the entirely of the last month of summer and first month of autumn.

"You like it?" Von asked him nervously.

"It's amazing," Spayar said and did a spin in it before shoving his hands into the pockets and finding all the things the seamstress had added to the coat for him. "I hope it wasn't too expensive."

"Not at all," Von lied that it probably cost as much as his father made in a month. He made a noise of surprise when Spayar suddenly hugged him. It wasn't the first time but it was always nice when he did. This sort of physical contact was rare in the palace. He hugged his friend back.

"Thank you. It's really great," Spayar said when he let Von go. Then he took it off. "Just in time too since it'll be rainy season soon," he beamed and his smile was so bright and white against his dark skin. "I'm going to go hang it up," and he left Von and went inside. Von sat on the bench feeling a huge amount of relief. His gift had been good and he hadn't fumbled the phrase. It couldn't have gone any better!

[xaz-fr]

First - Previous - Next

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work

@deadpool-scar-bro @starry-ampelope @golden-lionsnake @aw-some-musics @fullbearauthorclam @ragirl243 @redlion-fr @purple-forget-me-nots @unburdened-billy @trashcano08 @typefulls @slighteyewing @incel-tears @dgmana @genonehell @frxemriss

My favorite thing about Spayar is that no matter how cool he is or becomes this chapter still happens and shows he’a fucking idiot lols.

On the few clear days in the Meltong Basin during the wet season Assarus came to life like an ant hive. Most people tried to stay indoors as often as possible in the autumn because it rained nearly every day, so when the sky was clear and the weather warlockd predicted no rain everyone made sure to make the most of it. Spayar was on his mare in traffic, Duren sitting in front of him, sitting straight up and looking all around. Thankfully Spayar still had several inches on him or it would be a problem. 

His mare barely noticed the extra weight. She had a deep brown coat, thick legs, and great big hooves with great feathering. She was a horse who's ancestors had once worked the fields and now were the mounts of royalty and their favored. Von had gifted her to Spayar three years ago when Spayar complained about always having different horses wherever they went. Now she was his, he couldn't even begin to think of how expensive a horse like Spayar's was, trained for battle and didn't even flinch when her rider used magic. Not to mention the size, she was massive, and everyone got out of her way.

"Where are we going?"  Duren asked, turning around to look at Spayar, holding onto the pommel to keep from falling off.

"You'll see," though of course Duren knew why. He'd begged and begged Spayar over breakfast to show him how to ride and Spayar had given in if only to just make him shut up. By now they were leaving Bellringer and into South Garden which looked like it was trying very hard to mimic the style of Nedrag and the Garden with it's clean, boxy, buildings and covered in fauna. The city of Assarus or Surassa themselves had no one culture. They were a melting pot of all the provinces, and thus all the kingdoms the Alliance had conquered in its two thousand year being. Parts of South Garden looked like Nedalia or Dalican, there were motifs from the Yellow Hills in South Garden and he saw symbols from the city Peonia painted on the sides of buildings. People from the west of the Alliance had settled South Garden, much like the east had settled in Bellringer with it's gray stone buildings and clocks and its focus on craft rather than aesthetic.

"Shouldn't we be going outside the city?" Duren asked since South Garden was further in and really Spayar just wanted to get to Tradesmens as quickly as possible since unlike Peonia it sometimes mimicked itself after South Garden was one of the most twisting and confusing districts in the capital other than perhaps Cat's Cradle, even the Mire and Downriver were more organized than this.

"You'll see," Spayar just said again pushing his mare through a busy intersection full of people. When they saw his big war horse they jumped out of the way. Spayar was trying to be nice but he was getting annoyed with how busy this damn city was and he had a big horse. Big horses won over busy pedestrians.

"I can see Swan Island from here," Duren pointed once they finally got through South Garden and into Tradesmens. Spayar looked and indeed they could see the holy island from here over the low buildings and warehouses of Tradesmens, meaning Spayar was way off course. "Are we going to Swan Island?" Duren asked, confused.

"No," even as he made his mare head for the river. They came up to the walled bank of the Meltong and could see Swan Island easily. A small lake had formed here in the Meltong river in a low part of the land before it continued its journey south to the Break and the Fea’staal Sea. behind. Swan Island sat in the middle of the lake and it was a large, beautiful park, filled with temples. From here they could see people going in and out of them and people on horses or people enjoying the sunlight on the grass or under the trees. 

"Can we go to Swan Island?" Duren asked.

"I thought you wanted to learn to ride," Spayar said.

"Yeah I know, but we rarely go to Swan Island."

"Another time. I'll take you and the girls on Asumsest if you want," and he turned his horse to start down the road, running parallel to the river, towards the Winter Palace at the top of the hill in the distance. Tradesmens was full of canals that went into warehouses from the river and looked more like something from the country of Tipin or even Joti than anything else. Bridges spanned every canal for horses and pedestrians, though they were too steep and high to allow bigger boats through, so carriages had to take other routes. Few people were on the River Road but there were a lot of boats in the river. The Meltong was always full of boats and today was especially bad since it was full of trade ships and barges as well as personal boats with brightly colored sails or sides. At the very least both the river and the river road were orderly. 

The River Road wound north and east, through parts of South Garden, where Spayar didn’t let anyone get in his way lest they get trampled by war horse hooves, and then through the entire length of Uptown. The Hillsman children all went to school in Uptown. Mostly because their father could afford the cabby ride there and back every day and Anora’s private secondary schooling there. It was a wealthy neighborhood and it seemed like the was a bank on every street from every major city in the Alliance. At the last everyone moved with purpose here, no dawdling or frolicking about like in South Garden. Here people were all business and people stayed on the side walks and out of the traffic of horses, carriages, and some strange two wheeled contraption Spayar had never seen but flew down the street as quick as any horse. It looked like a buggy but wasn't pulled by a horse. He have to look into that.

When the River Road finally dumped them into Fey's Shadow Duren turned to Spayar accusingly. Spayar just rose his brows at his brother. Duren frowned the Hillsman frown at Spayar and turned back around. In Fey's Shadow the roads were wide and well kept, the manses behind their tall, thick, walls, were every style in the Alliance. The wealthiest people lived in Fey's Shadow and most nobles had houses here as well, and built their mansions in the style of their home province. You could see the entire gambit of architectural styles in Fey's Shadow from the low, spider web-like dwellings of the Wren-Kel, to the tall, low eaved, state house of the Peony. Spayar kept his horse on still and Duren's head kept moving, looking all around, trying to see everything. A lot of the houses were out of sight behind the walls but he tried, to caught glimpses of them through the gates.

At some point they came to the Twin Switches bridges, where the Meltong looped back around to itself and were only a few hundred feet apart. Two identical bridges built in a northern style spanned both parts of the Meltong and as they crossed the first bridge you could sort of see over the thick, protective, wall of the North estate. Duren raised himself up in the saddle a bit as though to see better before sitting back down. The North estate was the most heavily fortified estate they’d seen thus far, and the largest. Spayar knew there were bigger ones than the North’s, but it was up there.

“Who lives there?” Duren asked Spayar.

“The Norths,” Spayar said.

“Wow,” he said, “Do you know them?”

“By reputation, now sit down I can’t see,” and Duren turned right way round and sat properly as they started to cross the second Switch. Very shortly after they’d passed the North estate the road started to slant upwards to the Palace which gleamed like a snow capped mountain from the peak. 

There were no walls around the grounds of the Winter Palace, just like the rest of Assarus. There hadn't been an attack on the capital in two thousand years when neighboring nations had thought the young Alliance weak. Even the Federation wasn't stupid enough to attack their northern capital. You touched Assarus and a wrath that couldn't be imagined was unleashed. Not since Sinou's death had anyone tried to take Assarus or rather, Surassa, with any serious intent. The first Asuras had made sure the fear of what the Le'Acard could do would be felt through the ages until the end of time.

No one stopped Spayar as he rode up to the palace and Duren started to shift in front of him in wonder. It was above Duren to ever think of coming to the Winter Palace. His brother had been born and raised in Bellringer and he wasn't a knight, or a courtier or anyone of importance really.

Spayar didn't get too close to the Palace, instead he went around to the side where the stables were, where his own horse had been bred. A stable hand came out to see him when he got closer. "Sir," he bowed when he saw Spayar. Spayar recognized him.

"Oh stand up Jill," Spayar said, unimpressed. The stable hand, Jill, looked up, a rueful smile on his face like what Spayar did to Von Jill bowed to Spayar to annoy him.

The oldest son of a talented seamstress Jill was a spry young man Spayar's age with a gap in his front teeth, large ears, big green eyes, and hair the color of a carrot that stuck out wildly from any hat he tried to wear. They'd been sort of friends before Spayar had met Von, more friends because their mothers were friends. After Jill had finished his mandatory schooling in Bellringer he’d begged Spayar to get him a job in the Palace. So Spayar had and now he worked in the stables, right where Jill wanted to be with his love of animals. "You ain't impression' no one,” casually taking on the low born drawl of those in Middleton where he knew Jill lived, across the river from Bellringer.

Jill laughed and stood up straight, walking over to take the mare's bridle as Spayar dismounted with a grunt. Damn horse sometimes felt too big for him, even with his long legs. "Wha'cha here for?" Jill asked.

"Riding lessons, c'mon Duren," he held his arms up for his little brother. Duren dragged one leg over the saddle so he was sitting with both on the same side and then slid down into Spayar's arms. He wasn't strong enough to catch Duren anymore, his brother too big for that, but he could make sure he got to the ground safely.

"For who? You? You’re one of the best riders I know," and Jill sucked on his gap.

"No no, for my brother," Duren stood behind Spayar. He didn't know Jill, Spayar wasn't surprised, the damn guy slept with the horses now and rarely went home to Middleton despite talking like he'd lived there his entire life. Spayar also didn’t see or mention Jill like he did his actual friends. They’d been boys together but had nothing in common anymore and didn’t really interact except for times like these. "I need an easy horse, lower to the ground than her," he patted his mare's neck fondly.

"Wan’a pony?" he asked, "We have a few of ‘em marshy geldings.”

"Yeah, that sounds fine."

"You got it," and then he turned back towards the stables, leading Spayar's horse away. As he did Jill yelled, "Mavok, get one of the ponies saddled up!"

"Who was that?" Duren asked him.

"A friend," Spayar said, Duren just looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"You have other friends other than the prince?" Duren asked.

"Of course I do," Spayar said irritably. Spayar had a lot of friends, though few good ones, and countless acquaintances he knew more about than he had any right to. "Vondugard isn't my only friend."

"Seems like," Duren said, making a face, "dooim says so a least."

"Dad doesn't know half the things I do," thank the gods for that. “Don’t listen to everything dad says, he’s not always right.”

Duren frowned, not liking Spayar talking about their dad in any negative light. “Why do I have to ride a pony? I want to ride a horse," Duren decided to complain about that instead.

"A pony is fine to start with and probably as much as a horse as you'll ever ride," he patted Duren's shoulder. Duren looked at him sourly. "You're a smith brother, not a knight, you got no need for a horse."

"What about you then? Are you a knight?"

"No," Spayar agreed. Gods no he wasn't a knight.

"Then why do you have a horse?"

Spayar laughed, "More than just knights own horses, Duren. You see people not knights on horses don't you?" Duren nodded slowly. "A horse is just expensive. Expensive to buy, expensive to care for, expensive to house. I'm really lucky to have a horse like mine. But you," he tapped his brother's nose, "will be fine with a pony for today. Once you get better we'll move you to a horse."

"Okay," Duren said, Spayar could see the wheels of Duren's mind turning. But before he could figure it all out Jill was back leading a pony, fully saddled. It was a fairly tall pony, rather thin, with long, narrow, legs, but still many hands shorter than Spayar’s mare.

"Here w’are, one of them marshy ponies of LoHanJo'in," meaning it was a Adoshade horse. They'd bred them from the water ponies who lived in and around the Boggart swamps that took up most of LoHanJo'in province. They were just tall enough to stand above the water line most places and short enough to stay out of the way of the lower branches of the trees in the swamps and small enough to squeeze between trees to escape predators.

"Thanks," Spayar said and Jill handed him the lead.

"His name's Ollie, ‘e's a good boy," and Jill patted the pony's rump, Ollie swished his tail.

"We'll have him back before lunch probably," Spayar said.

"No rush. Hillsman can take him out as long as he wants, Stablemaster said that."

“Really?’ Spayar asked, raising his brows at Jill.

“Aaaah, not in so many words,” Jill said, grinning a gap toothed grin.

“Great,” Spayar said, half laughing, “Take care of my horse while I'm out."

Jill laughed, "She'll be a princess while she's here," he promised.

Spayar grinned and motioned to his brother to follow him as he led him and the pony away from the stables. "Spayar," Duren asked as they went to a field. Unlike most of the land around the capital the hill the palace sat on was hard ground. It was why Spayar had picked up here and not just anywhere, Duren wouldn't have to worry about potholes or wetland.

"Yeah?" Spayar asked.

"Does your horse have a name?"

Spayar looked up from where he was checking the pony's bridal, "Uh... no," he realized. He'd never named his horse. Three years and his horse didn't have a name. It had honestly never occurred to him.

Duren hadn’t been expecting Spayar to actually agree with him that his horse didn’t have a name. "It doesn't?"

"I guess not," Spayar admitted and looked back on his life choices where he hadn’t named his own horse.

"You should name her," Duren insisted.

"I wouldn't even know what to call her," Spayar said, "I always just call her girl."

"That's a terrible name." Spayar frowned, now he felt weird about it. How had he not noticed he'd never named his own horse? He’d had her for three years. How hadn't anyone noticed? Or what if they had but had felt like it wasn’t their place to point it out? Maybe everyone knew Spayar’s horse didn’t have a name and wondered what was wrong with him. It made Spayar feel self conscious about the entire thing. He couldn’t just go around asking people if they knew his horse’s name either because then if they didn’t know then they would. "You should think of a name for her," Duren said.

"I guess," Spayar said, though honestly giving his horse a name now would be more weird since he was so used to her not having one. "I'll think about it, now lets get you up.” Mainly he just wanted to get off the subject of his horse not having a name. Hopefully Duren would forget that they’d ever had this conversation.

He showed Duren how to mount a horse. Duren climbed onto Ollie's back with only a bit of trouble. Spayar handed Duren the reigns and saw that Jill had also given him a long lead line as well. Thanks Jill. "Marshy ponies are really well trained," Spayar told his brother to continue to stay off the subject of his own horse. “So you just need to give it a little nudge to get him going. With your heel... yeah like that," and Duren got the pony to start to walk. "Not so tight on the reins," he said as he let the lead rope out.

"How do I turn?" Duren asked.

"Pull them the direction you want them to go. Not too hard," and Duren did so. The pony started to moved in an arc with Spayar as it's center point. Spayar turned as the pony walked and Duren was so focused on the pony it was like he’d forgotten his brother was an absolute idiot.

"Spayar," Duren said after he'd walked the pony around Spayar in a circle a few times "what's a gelding?"

"It's a boy horse that can't have children."

Duren was paying attention to the pony when he asked, "Like you?"

"What! No. I'm not a gelding," thank the gods he wasn't. He rather enjoyed all his equipment, and all their functions.

"But you can't have children," Duren looked at Spayar.

"I am fully capable," Spayar said, trying not to be irritated. Duren was only eight, he was allowed to be stupid. It was surprisingly difficult to not be angry though. "I just won't."

"Cause boys can't have babies?"

"Exactly," Spayar said, "And a gelding is a horse who's been castrated. It's different."

"Well what's castrated mean?"

"It means they cut the balls off." Spayar laughed at Duren's horrified face. His brother looked down at his lap like to assure himself he was still in one piece. "They only do it to horses,” he assured Duren. That didn't mean Spayar couldn't think of at least a dozen reasons or crimes that would get a man castrated, and not just the balls either.

"Why do they do that?"

"To make them calmer."

"But what about making more horses?"

"They don't geld all the stallions Duren," Spayar sighed, "and the Adoshade only gift out or sell gelded marshy ponies, so other places can't breed them."

"Why?"

"Politics, don't worry about it," yeah only Spayar had to worry about that sort of stuff. "Try and make your pony go faster," Spayar encouraged to get them off the talk of horse balls. First making Spayar come to the realization his horse didn’t have a name and now horse balls. Something was wrong with his little brother. Duren tapped the pony again and Ollie started to go faster.

They were out there for a while until Duren said his legs hurt. "Owww," he complained as he got off Ollie. "Why does that hurt so much?"

"You aren't used to it," Spayar said, patting Ollie who looked ready for a rest and to not go in circles anymore. Duren was rubbing the inside of his thighs, looking pained. "Lets head back to the stable, I'm sure Ollie wants his lunch," and he started to walk, Duren rubbed for a few more seconds before following.

"You rode all the way to Peonia and back in like two weeks,” Duren said, looking at Spayar with something like awe.

"I did," he agreed.

"Didn't it hurt?"

Spayar shrugged, "It's just uncomfortable. You get used to it honestly, from being in the saddle so much."

"Doesn't your dick hurt though?"

Spayar snorted, "Usually the whole area just goes numb before it starts to hurt."

"You've ridden a horse with a numb butt?" Duren cried, eyes wide.

"Yeap," Spayar said. "But I ride all the time. The more you do the less it hurts."

"Oh," Duren looked contemplative a moment. "You're not a knight, right Spayar?"

"Nope."

"Then what are you? You can fight and do magic like a knight and a  warlock, but you aren't are you?"

"I'm not a knight," Spayar said, "all magic users are warlocks, you know that."

"Then what are you?" Spayar thought about that a moment. What was he? "Spayar?"

"I'm thinkin'," Spayar said as they approached the stables. Jill didn't meet them this time and they entered the building. "Hello," he called. The royal stables were huge and each stall had a name plaque beside the door. Despite that it was easy to get lost and it wasn’t best to wander without a stablehand to guide you. "Hello," he called again. It'd take them forever to find Ollie's stall on their own. He sighed and started down the stall lined corridor, at the very least he could find Ollie's stall. Though he also needed to find his horse. This was probably a horrible idea. Where was everyone?

They walked through the stables to the other side where there was a covered area that led to one of the two large courtyards that stood guard next to the large looping drive at the front of the palace. There they found seemingly all the stable hands, standing back and out of the way. In front of them was a gilt carriage pulled by a team of four, black, horses of the same sick as his own made and standing beside it was a fair haired woman who was yelling at the holsters. Spayar recognized her by voice alone, it was Von's second oldest sister; Obi. 

"What's going on?" Spayar asked one of the stable hands quietly, thankfully Duren had enough sense to be silent.

"Her highness keeps changing her mind about what she wants," they said, frowning. "First she wanted white horses, than brown horses, now black horses, and only females. Something' wrong with the carriage, this or that uhg.” 

"Well... I have a pony that needs to be put away," Spayar said.

"At least it's something to do, what's his name?"

"Ollie."

"Right, I'll take him. You got a horse, sir?” they said and took Ollie’s lead. Meanwhile Obi was still yelling, irritated something wasn't happening fast enough. Spayar hated Obi. Spayar genuinely hated few people, but Obi was one of them. She was a handful.

“Yes, she’s a royal breed, dark brown coat, white hairs, Jill put her away for me.”

“Ah, I know that one. I’ll bring her here, sir,” and they left with Ollie.

Spayar turned around when he heard Obi crack one stable hand across the face. "Do not talk back to me," she yelled at the man who was now on the ground, hand over one side of their face.

"Apologizes your highness, I was merely-

She stepped on him, stomped was more a correct term honestly. The stable hand cried out, his sound of pain startling the horses. "I said do not talk back to me!" 

"I'm sorry," the stable hand stammered. Spayar knew he shouldn’t intervene. He didn’t really have much to do with the other royals unless they put themselves in front of him. It was less messy and he wouldn’t get to know them and feel bad when he plotted their murder. He was about to turn away and take Duren with him when he recognized the stablehand. He cursed to himself. Of course it had to be Jill. Of course it had to be because Can’dhe liked to torment him. Liked to put things in his way and test his character.

He looked down at his brother and saw his brother recognized Jill as well. What would it look like if Spayar just turned a blind eye? How could he explain to his baby brother that it was better if he didn’t get involved? He couldn’t. Not after Spayar had called Jill his friend. What sort of person left their ‘friend’ to be beat over nothing. He sighed a little. He was about to do something stupid and reckless and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

"Learn to listen when your betters speak," Obi spat made to stomp on Jill again. This time Spayar flicked his hand to cast a spell and caught her heeled foot in mid air with a messy weave that clung to the air on spider silk connections. It did hold her though. She whirled on the stable hands accusingly, fire in her cerulean blue eyes. "Who's doing that?" she demanded.

Nothing for it. He’d started this, he had to finish it. Spayar stepped forward, leaving Duren with another stable hand who didn't need to be told to hold his brother back. "Hello your highness," he bowed to her neatly, extending his arms a bit and wishing he was wearing a bit nicer clothes. Anyone watching saw it as mocking but Obi, unobservant as always, saw it as respectful. What she did see was that he didn’t bow nearly as low as he would to Von or even the king. The king. Her nostrils flared angrily.

Obi was the prettiest of Von’s siblings and loved the gut, emulating all the most popular styles from there. Obi had long, delicate, golden locks she wore in immaculate ringlets of the Dalicites. Her nails were always freshly manicured and painted like a Nedalian. Today they were apple red with yellow tips. Her bright blue eyes were ringed in Aldashi style liner, the wings conservative like she’d done them herself and was intimidated by them. They weren’t nearly as long or elegant as Tassa’s. Even her clothes were western Alliance with a high hem on her skirt over a pair of lace tights and a bodice that showed off her flat, golden, stomach and pushed her breasts together while keeping her shoulders bare. For the aesthetics she was lovely. Under that gilded facade she was a miasma of stupidity and temper made of methane that just needed the slightest spark to erupt in either spouting off something so ignorant it actually gave you pause, or she’d turn you inside out with a temper tantrum.

"Spayar," she said his name like he was a piece of shit on her shoe, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping you from hurting an innocent man," Spayar said calmly, standing up again. He didn't avert his eyes when he spoke to Obi either, he didn't know how to anymore. Von demanded that Spayar looked at him on level when they spoke and he did it out of habit to all people of standing.

Obi looked down and sneered at Jill who swallowed. "If I want to it's my prerogative," she said and snapped Spayar's weave holding her leg like he knew she would. This time when Obi made to stomp on Jill Spayar uttered one word and Obi lost her footing and fell ass up on her back. There was a stunned silence in the courtyard. Here Spayar had to play carefully or he’d have a fire on his hands. He wasn’t a pyromacer either and Von want here.

"That man is under your mother's employ and thus under the protection of the Le'Acard," Spayar said, hands behind his back so no one could see how hard they were trembling. He wasn't angry. He was afraid. He wasn't afraid of much but pissing off someone who could kill him effortlessly was one of them. Von wasn't around to protect him from his sister like sometimes. It was one thing to kill your brother’s best friend when he was alone, it was quite another to do it in front of him. Especially a d’aelar. Normally that would make him immune from most attacks by the Le’Acard. Not from Obi. Obi didn’t care. When she was angry or insulted and not handled carefully she’d take on anyone.

Obi stared at him like she couldn't believe he'd really just done that. He'd just humiliated her in front of a bunch of stable hands. "What are you looking at?" she snarled at Jill who was also staring, slightly slack jawed.

"Nothing, your highness," he looked away quickly

She got to her feet and marched over to Spayar. Obi was shorter than him, but it didn't matter, she was like fire. Literally she was fire and was a pyromacer like her brother Von. For a second Spayar thought the tips of her coiled hair sparked and became flame. Not unheard of for a powerful pyromacer. "You would do such a thing?" she hissed.

Spayar kept very calm. Obi won when you talked back, when you got angry. He'd seen enough of her fighting with Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin to know how she was, what she did, and how temperamental she was. When Obi started to smolder if you struck back in anger like she did she’d just ignite and you’d lose. It was something that happened often enough and only staying perfectly calm in the face of her wrath would see her be handled out of that spark of rage. “I would," he said. 

"I am a Le'Acard, you would lay a hand on me?" she demanded, fire in her eyes, her breath as hot as a forge on his face.

"I did no such thing-

"You still-

"I simply stopped you from making a mistake," he just talked right over her. The only way for Obi to hear you was to just talk over her.

"Me? A mistake?" she laughed.

"So you would rather me tell the stable master you beat one of his best stable boys and then he would tell your mother?" Spayar asked her curiously.

Obi froze. She hadn't thought of that. Of course she hadn't. Obi was an idiot of the first degree. Of Von's siblings she was the least he was worried about because Obi didn't have the patience or brain power to plan a coup, let alone the temperament to see it through to completion. She might know Tallalsala was meeting with the Clan and Teldin had the White Foot and Wren-Kal in his pocket, but that meant nothing to Obi. It was like telling her there was a particular bad thunderstorm outside. It would pass, as it always did. "My mother?" she asked and it was like Spayar had dropped a block of ice on white hot iron.

"Yes," Spayar said, "Asuras Virilia takes great pride in the horses her stable breeds, and thus those who work there. You wouldn't want her to know you were abusing them would you?" Spayar was talking out of his ass of course. Obi was too dumb to know differently. She believed everything people told her. A temper with gullibility did not make a good match and was how you threw sand over the tinder of her temper. He looked at the carriage, "Didn't you have somewhere to be, my lady?" he asked her rather innocently, switching topics and confusing her by now being worried for her well being and her time table.

"I do," she said slowly, unsure what he was doing or how to react appropriately since just a moment ago she’d been ready to burn him alive.

"I would hate for you to be late," there was a driver already sitting in the seat up front, staring at Spayar like he was crazy. "Since I'm sure it's terribly important if you need to go."

"It is," she said and pursed her lips at him. She hadn't even realized what he was doing. How did Von have a sibling like Obi?

"I'm sure they're waiting for you," he moved his fingers and the carriage door opened, beckoning Obi.

"This idiot-

"Had the best intentions your highness. You really shouldn't worry about such trvilalries," and already Obi had gone from being mad at him for humiliating her to complacent and ready to do what he said. If you didn’t set her off Obi was actually very easy to deal with. It was just she was easily set off. You just had to use a certain tone with her and she cooled down and did what you said once you showed her that yes; you were the boss here, not her. Honestly she was a bit like a horse. If the rumors were true she was ridden about as much as the common use horses in the stables too. "Driver," he called, "where are you going?"

"We're going to Mirin, my lord," the driver said. The capital of Kou. That made Spayar slightly uneasy. A million possibilities ran through his head about why Obi would be going to the capital of Kou. She had to have a handler, behind the scenes, trying to put her on the throne. If only so she’d be a figurehead.

"That's a long way," Spayar said, “Who are you going to see?”

“The Lady Lenni,” she said. Spayar wracked his brain. Who was the Lady Lenni?

“Well if you don’t leave soon it’ll be too late in the day to make any way down the Westernlance. You wouldn’t want to put off seeing her another day would you?”

“No,” Obi said adamantly.

“Then we should get you on your way,” he said, barely even in the moment with Obi. He was thinking of who the Lady Lenni was. He helped her into the carriage and Spayar closed the door with a pleasant smile. He waved to the driver once he stepped back and the driver, who finally had to look away from his stupefied amazement at Spayar, flicked the reins to put the horses into a trot. Obi would be out of the city before she realized Spayar had manipulated her and she’d told him where she was going and who she was seeing.

"That was amazing," Jill said from the ground. "How'd you do that?"

"I have a lot of practice dealing with Le'Acard," Spayar offered Jill his hand. Jill took it and Spayar hauled him to his feet. Jill wasn't  really wounded, but he was a bit battered. "Go to the palace healer, get healed up, if they throw a fuss say I sent you."

"You're right amazing Spayar," Jill said.

Spayar just shrugged, "Go on, me and Duren are for home."

"Right right," Jill said, and dusted himself off a bit. "Thanks," he said again, grinning his gap toothed grin at Spayar. Spayar went back to find his brother, "What you lot standing around for?" Jill cried at the other stable hands, "You gots stuff to do, so go do it!" and they scattered.

Duren was standing with his mare and another man that made Spayar stop dead, the warm feeling of victory over Obi leeching away instantly. 

Teldin was holding onto Spayar's horse’s reins and standing next to Duren like it was the most natural thing he could do. "Your highness," he bowed to Teldin much lower than he had for Obi. Unlike her Teldin actually garnered real respect. 

As with the rest of the past few generations of Le’Acard Teldin was fair and blonde, his hair in last decade’s style of long and slicked back. Unlike some of his siblings his skin was the color of flour and his eyes were such a brown they were practically black. He had mean eyes like an owl's and a long, proud looking face. He was well built and filled his autumn coat well. This was the man who threatened Von's life, and thus Spayar's own life; the oldest son of the Asuras.

"What can I do for you, your highness?" Spayar asked, straightening. As he did he noticed that twined around Teldin’s neck was a long, leaf green, snake with eyes too smart to be an animal. A shapeshifter. Spayar knew who it was instantly and it put him on more edge than he already was with Teldin’s appearance. Sade was a powerful warlock and shifter and practically Teldin’s second in command. She was practically another Spayar. Why would she be here with Teldin now?

"That was very impressive," Teldin said, he had the voice of a singer, the type you could listen to forever. "Not many people can so expertly manipulate Obi out of a rage," he said it thoughtfully but also like he didn’t actually care.

"You're too kind, your highness," Spayar said.

"Where's my brother?" he asked.

"Vondugard, your highness?"

"Who else would I ask you about?" though they both knew realistically Spayar probably knew the whereabouts of all the Le'Acard children despite only having been in Assarus a few days since his trip to the gut.

"I don't know. I just came home from serving time a few days ago. He wasn't here when I arrived,” he lied.

Teldin put a mean stare onto Spayar but he didn't flinch, didn't move a single inch. "You're a good d'alaer," Teldin said and cocked his head at Spayar in a very predatory fashion. "But you're wasted on my brother." Teldin knew Spayar was lying. He knew and knew Spayar knew he knew but pushing Spayar to answer would get him no where nor would it actually help him. He was just testing Spayar, like he always did, to see what he could get out of him.

"Your brother takes very good care of me," Spayar swallowed. This wasn't the first time Teldin had approached Spayar about changing his alliances. Teldin and Tallalsala had both done it, since they were the two better players on the field. They knew what it meant that Von had a d'alaer and they didn't. Sinou had had a famous d'alaer who helped him conquer the first realms of the Alliance. It was the opinion of most of the Alliance and especially the Le'Acard that Asuras who had a d'alaer on their sides were more competent rulers, better  in every way. That they could instill such zealous devotion in someone meant they knew what they were doing. Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin all hated Von in equal measure they were jealous of him because he had Spayar; his d'alaer.

Spayar was the d'aelar of this generation, the first one since since the early eighteen hundreds. His kind weren’t common and there was only ever one at a time. If there were more they’d constantly be compared until one was proclaimed the true d'aelar in the style of the d'aelar of old. The only way to get the benefit of a d'aelar now was to either kill Spayar and get your own or convince him that it was in his best interest to side with them. He’d been on the end of enough threats to himself and his family and promises of the world, stars and everything in between to know that it was serious for the Le’Acard. They knew the importance of his title, what it meant for them and the nobles, commoners and soldiers of the Alliance in the coming Conflict. The greatest Asuri had d’aelar. They wanted one too. Unfortunately there was only one Spayar.

"I would do better," Teldin said, "whatever he does for you I can do better.” Not the first promise Teldin had ever given him. “Or whatever he doesn’t do for you,” and Spayar did his best not to just grab his brother and bolt. It sounded like he was being courted and not asked to betray his best friend. Knowing Teldin there was all sorts of meaning behind those words and promises he’d follow up on to get the advantage over his siblings. Spayar did his best to not think about Von like that, let alone his viper of a brother.

"I'm not interested," Spayar said instead, once again putting his hands behind his back so Teldin wouldn’t see how they trembled. He just wanted Teldin to leave him alone. "I am Vondugard's d’aelar. His d'aelar I shall stay. As I’ve said before, I want nothing from you, Teldin,” he said. Sade’s body extended out towards Spayar a bit and the human eyes in a snake’s head were reproachful.

Teldin frowned, “You’re sure? Now’s the time to pick sides, d’aelar. Do you really want to be one of those who visits a temple of Lemp?” All the hair stood up on Spayar’s body. Most of the time just the presence of a d'aelar by a Le’Acard’s side was enough to rally most of the nation to them and they’d come through and sit on the throne. But sometimes, it wasn’t. The crown heir in question was killed. D’aelar knew they wouldn’t be spared after a Conflict’s close like their donalim. The only way out was to leave the Alliance and never return, leaving behind everything and one you’d ever known, or kill yourself. Since suicide was against their religion and the will of Lemp necromancers would assist people in their suicides. The d'aelar who went to temples of Lemp were a select few, and they all did so out of shame and grief when their best friends, or - in one case - their lover, had lost the Conflict.

“Careful,” Spayar said slowly, to not betray the hard beating of his heart. “Your dread is showing, your highness,” he said and bowed a little. Sade flicked her tongue at Spayar hatefully and he wondered what the hell had just gotten into him to say that to Teldin’s face. The prince wasn’t the least bit amused.

Teldin dropped his mare's lead and walked away without goodbye. Spayar's heart was all the way up in his throat as he walked away. He lurched forward, grabbed his horse’s lead and his brother’s hand and dragged them away.

"Spayar-

"Later," and Spayar said and stopped long enough to help Duren onto his horse. He scrambled up after his brother.

"But who was that-

"Duren," Spayar said sharply and kicked his mare into a canter to get away from the stables. “Not. Now.” He looked over his shoulder but didn’t see Teldin. Thankfully Duren didn’t ask any more questions and Spayar could focus on putting as much distance between them and the Palace as humanely possible. It was of course this time, when Spayar felt the stress of Teldin and the Conflict on his shoulders, that he remembered that Lady Lenni was the name of a the High Priestess of Belladha, goddess of wisdom. What a stupid thing he’d think of now and what a pointless person Obi was going to see. Spayar didn’t know if he was more annoyed with himself for knowing who Lenni even was, or for thinking about that instead of the fact that Teldin had just promised him if he didn’t join him that he’d make sure Spayar visited a temple of Lemp.

He really hated the royals.

[xaz-fr]

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Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancer, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, basically, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Honestly though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work.

@colorfulcollectordragon-2f8ee55c @crsedore @deadpool-scar-bro @golden-lionsnake @i-do-stuff-sometimes-notreally @barkingjester @journey-taken-fr  @lynxstorm27 @starry-ampelope

You get to meet Tassa in this chapter. She’s uh, the best. The only person more of a Judgmental Gay than Spayar is Tassa. 

3. City by the Sea

There was a messenger at the door. They were dressed in the pale blue of the messenger's guild, their tunic proudly bearing the golden insignia in the top left of his chest. It was gods’ balls early and Spayar had heard their light knocking through the window even up a story. His room wasn’t even above the door, Calli’s was, but Calli didn’t wake up for anything. So there was Spayar in barely his night clothes, half awake, at the door and this damn messenger was so chipper and awake. Spayar didn’t know them, but he hated them. “I have a message for Spayar Hillsman junior," they said.

"That's me," he said tiredly and rubbed the side of his face. Why was he alive this early? It hadn’t been fun while serving time and it wasn’t fun now.

"Royal message for you," and they reached into their satchel and pulled out a roll of paper.

Spayar groaned, “Why Von?” he grumbled. The messenger didn't move to go, "You want something?" he asked once he’d taken it.

"Tip?" he asked hopefully.

Spayar almost didn’t give him a tip, for waking him so early. But he wasn’t that much of a dick, this poor guy was just trying to make a living. "Just a tick,” he said.

"Sure," they grinned and Spayar went and found a bronze atrin that he handed to the messenger who smiled brightly, thanked Spayar for his time and left.

Spayar didn't open the message until he was back in his room and laying in bed again. He was going to look at it then go back to sleep. He rubbed his eyes and unrolled the message.

'Spayar, we're going to Peonia. Be at the Westerlance outside the Mire by the eighth bell. No belly aching. I'll buy you a pretty boy when we get there. V'

“Densinn’s tongue…” Spayar got out of bed to look out the window to the big clock tower, the Taldradin, in the Bellringer district that most of the city used to tell their time. It was half past the seventh bell. "Damn that man!" he yelled and rapidly got dressed, splashing his face with some cold water and started to rapidly get everything together, running back and forth from the bathroom and trying not to be too loud.

"Spayar, everything all right?" his mother poked her head out of her room from down the hall as Spayar left his own, fully dressed, his saddle bags already packed and over his shoulder.

"The prince is going to Peonia and dragging me along. I'll be back in a few weeks I'm sure," he didn't sound happy about it. Relora frowned, she'd been expecting more than a week with her son. But when a crown prince was your best friend you did what he said.

"Have fun," she said as he came even with her bedroom door just next to the stairs.

“I’ll try,” he groaned and went down the stairs. He walked across the house to the front door and left through the side yard to where his horse was waiting for him. She didn’t look happy to see him when he opened the stable door and started to put her tack on.

“I know. I know, girl,” he said patting her neck, she just gave a snort and shook her head a bit. “It’s Von okay? Blame him,” and she snorted as if to say, yes, of course she would blame Von for this. He finished saddling her quickly and he started down the street on her back he looked at the Taldradin. As he did the bells started to ring across the city, the eighth bell. He cursed under his breath the entire way down river after kicking her into a swift canter. He didn’t even have a chance to really take in the Mire and the destruction that had befallen it by the spring and early summer flooding.

Von was waiting for him on the road which was starting to get busy leaning forward on his horse, a big, long haired, roan stallion. "There you are, what took you?" Von asked once he saw Spayar.

"Well maybe if you weren't so stupid as to give me half a bell of notice I would have gotten here sooner," Spayar snapped, still in a rotten mood from getting woken up so  early. Normally he'd hold himself back from snapping at Von in public but he was tired and pissed.

Von didn't even seem to notice, or care really, "When I say the eighth bell, I mean the eighth bell, Spayar. Not half past it."

He just groaned in frustration, "Whatever, your royal pain in my ass. Are we going to Peonia or not?"

That brightened Von's mood considerably, "Yes, we are. Lets go, before my keepers realize I'm gone."

"Does anyone know you're leaving?"

"Nope," Von grinned deviously.

Spayar sighed and nudged his horse to follow Von as they turned down the Westerlance that led out of Assarus. There were four cardinal roads in the Alliance that came out of the norther capital like the spokes on a wheel. The Westerlance ran all the way from Assarus to the coast of the Shard, also called the gut, in a nearly straight line. Only the Southernlance was at all crooked and snaked it’s way down the Meltong from Assarus to Surassa and down to the Kas’ca.  Spayar had never properly divined why it went all the way down to the Kas’ca but road building wasn’t really a thing taught in school or by any of his tutors. It would take them four days by the road to reach Peonia nestled against the coast.

"What are we going to do in Peonia?"

"It's just a detour," Von said, "I want to buy something there and then we're going north to Nedrag."

Spayar blinked and prodded his mare up to keep pace with Von's stallion. You didn't just go to Nedrag. For starters there wasn't anything in Nedrag. It was a tiny city set between some cliffs and had no real political or economic importance. It was a city that existed and did some trade with other ports on both sides of the sea but exported little. Nedrag was a city you didn't visit for fun or a holiday either because there was nothing there, it was a fishing city, industrial.

Well, there was one reason you went to Nedrag. Next to the city, separated by only a single wall, was the Rose Garden, an area surrounded by a black wall and buffered against cliffs. The Rose Garden was home to the Rosalia, the governing family of Nedalia, and almost more importantly than that it was the one place on Priman'osta you could go to receive proper training to become a necromancer, a priestess of the death god, Lemp.

Meaning they weren’t going to Nedrag at all.

"You're going to see the new High Priestess?" few had yet to approach her. She was older than them by almost ten years but her mother had just died less than four months ago. He knew because four months ago the priestesses who served in the Arm with him had returned to the Garden for the funeral. The Garden had been mostly sealed since then, or so the priestesses said. But you didn't say no to a crown prince when he came to visit. At least Von hoped so.

"Indeed I am," Von said chipperly. "I heard her daughter's naming day is coming up. I also want to give my personal congratulations and empathy for her mother's passing," he had a pensive look on his face for a moment. "It isn't easy to lose a parent. Right?" he looked at Spayar for agreement. The fact that Von even asked would have been odd coming from anyone else. But because it was Von, he didn’t think twice that of course Von wouldn’t care if his parents died. He was plotting to kill them.

"It isn't," Spayar said. "It isn't a social visit though is it?"

"Oh gods no," Spayar said as they entered one of the main avenues and could put their horses into a quick trot. "Like I would go to the Garden for fun," he made a face, "That's why we're going to Peonia first," he smiled and Spayar just sighed and dropped back to create a single file with the stallion. Sometimes being the best friend of a prince was more trouble than it was truly worth.

—

Compared to their real destination Peonia was an epicenter. The largest and most important port along the coast of the Shard it was one of the most powerful cities in the entire Alliance.

Trade from all across Priman'osta flowed freely through Peonia, even from the Federation. The city was decadence given form and in the wealthy districts, closest to the Keep, everything seemed gilt or rimmed in jewels. In the main avenues of the Golden Peony district, the roads were made of gleaming white stone and the shops were all clean, the bouncers that stood outside nearly every one of them were well dressed and groomed. The traffic moved in an orderly fashion in Peonia unlike in even Assarus where things could get jumbled. Here the police enforced strict traffic rules, especially in the Golden Peony. There were so many people in Peonia, from so many different countries or cities that allowing everyone to do it the way they wanted would have just resulted in chaos.

"You see one you like yet?" Spayar asked Von as they led their horses down the avenue, staying with the flow of traffic. They were looking for a place to spend a few nights before continuing north to Nedrag.

"It isn't dark out, so I can't tell," Von said and Spayar groaned. Along with being an important trade hub on the Shard Peonia was also known as the pleasure city where you could satisfy any vice and just about any sin. Most of the most popular places in Peonia were the brothels, all of them filled with beautiful men and women. It was said the province of Aldash bred even their low commoners beautiful, that there was something in the air that made the people here pretty. Spayar was sure that wasn’t true but he’d yet to meet an ugly Aldashi. Maybe they were just hidden away.

"Von, we're here for an inn, not a bang,” he reminded the prince.

"Same thing," Von flapped his hand at Spayar, "and besides I said I'd buy you a pretty boy. So don't look so glum."

Spayar rolled his eyes, "I am quite capable of finding someone myself," he said.

"I know but I'll pay for it."

"Von you idi-

"Oh, that place," Von pointed to probably the most expensive inn in the Golden Peony. It was a four story building made of soft, pale, wood and creamy stucco walls. The roof was pitched steep and the overhang extended further down than was needed, which kept with the style of Peonia. Large flower baskets hung from the ends of the eaves and the doorman was dressed immaculately with a sapphire leopard lying by his side boredly. They'd paid a wizard to enchant a sign to glow even in the daylight, the large letters announcing it as the Swan Song Inn and Brothel.

Oh, lovely.

"You just had to pick the most famous one in the city didn't you?" Spayar sighed.

The Swan Song was said to have been the first brothel in Peonia, or at least where the Peony family had come from. You couldn't get a clear story about how the Peony had risen to power, the only thing all the stories agreed on was that the first Lady Peony had led an open rebellion against the old King Gerrin with an army of whores and bodyguards during the mid thirteenth century. Gerrin had been killed and she'd installed herself in his place. This was before the country of Aldash had become part of the Alliance in the early sixteen hundreds. But like most small nations here in the south they'd been happy to submit to the Asuras when they came knocking. It was that or fight and end up consumed anyway, or worse, burned to the ground like old Ballentine. Peony had become a major house after they’d bent at knee.

"It's the Swan Song, Spayar, of course we're going to stay there," Von said and they cut across the road to the brothel. A holster came to get their horses. "You get us a room, I'll see to the horses."

"And try to keep your hands to yourself, at least until we get situated," Spayar sighed as Von went with the holster to stable their horses. Spayar walked up to the door, the leopard growled at him a little but the doorman opened the door for him with a nod. Inside the Swan Song was like what it would look like inside a jewel. A grand staircase led up to the second floor where you could rent rooms or flesh and on the first floor was a place to sit, eat, or smoke with couches where women and men lounged, some fully dressed, some half naked.

Spayar ignored them and walked up to the second floor and the reception desk, "Hello sir," the man behind the desk was probably the ugliest man in the building but was still attractive. His skin was dark, common amid those who lived along the gut, the subtropical coast of the eastern Shard, and he wore many golden earrings on his ears and two on either side of his bottom lip. "Have you seen our girls-

"Not here for girls," Spayar said.

"Oh, well we have-

Spayar just sighed, cutting him off. "I just need two rooms. We’re here for the inn, not the entertainment I’m afraid,” Spayar said, "they should have a connecting door.”

"Oh, I see," he looked down at his ledger book.

"I want the best rooms you have."

The man looked him up and down, "Are you sure, sir? Or best rooms are very expensive."

"Yes," because of course Spayar looked like he couldn't afford them, dressed as he was in his riding gear and covered in dirt.

The man sucked one of the rings on his bottom lip, "Of course," he said and made a note in his ledger. He turned around to a wall full of small cubby holes for the keys and picked out two. As he did someone came up behind them, Spayar turned to find Von, with a porter holding their bags. "Can I help you, sir?" the pierced man asked.

"I'm with him," Von pointed at Spayar, "Get our rooms?"

"Yes, I got the rooms," Spayar said.

"They're going to the royal suits," the pierced man told the porter and handed him the keys.

"Why are you so boiled?” Von said as they followed the porter up the stairs to their rooms.

"Because you picked the Swan Song to stay while we're here."

"It's a nice place," Von said.

"I'm going to have to force you away from this place. Don't forget what we're doing here."

Von waved him away, "Don't you worry Spayar, I know well why we're here."

"Then act like it," Spayar scowled at him.

"Here you are, sirs," the porter said, they were on the third floor. He unlocked the doors for them and put their bags down inside each of the rooms. Von put a silver atrin into his hand as a tip and the porter left.

Von closed his door and followed Spayar into his, "Would you just try to relax a little?" he asked.

"I'm sorry I have trouble relaxing when we're on a trip to plan treason," Spayar hissed at him. "Don't forget that's what this is Von; this is treason."

Von frowned at him, "I know what it is Spayar. But I have to," Spayar looked away from him, because he was right. Von had four siblings older than him, and three younger. His mother had given her children plenty of reasons to be wary of in the form of their siblings. It spurred Von to do everything he did, including this plot to overthrow his mother before his older siblings did. If he didn't do it before them he'd die. Von didn't want to die. Spayar didn't want him to die either. They both knew he needed to do this since only an idiot didn't see how much his two eldest siblings craved his mother's throne. Especially now that Teldin was around, making a mess of things by imposing his presence on everyone and making his younger siblings nervous. Von almost didn't even want to be Asuras; he just didn't want to die.

"If you get the Rosalia you'll have a powerful ally," Spayar said and sat in one of the chairs in the room. He wanted to wash and change his clothes but he wouldn't while Von was here.

"It's a calculated risk. I could gain her favor-

"Or piss her off while she's mourning the loss of her mother."

“I know,” Von frowned. "I also want to try for the Drake, maybe.”

"Drake and Rosalia at the same time? You are certainly ambitious," Spayar said, "what would offer Lord Jollen to work with not just you, but the Rosalia?"

"I don't know yet."

Spayar drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, "Well, you better figure it out."

"Can we try to enjoy ourselves while we're here at least?" Von asked and brushed his fingers across the top of Spayar's had. Spayar shivered and did his best to not let it show. Von smiled at him a bit as Spayar looked up at him, still moody.

Finally he sighed, "Okay."

"Excellent, now excuse me I need to wash. I saw there was a new show playing at the theater down the street. I’m sure someone would be happy to accompany me,” and he made for the door. "You find someone you like too-

"Bye Von!" Spayar yelled after him and Von laughed as he darted out of the door to his own room. Spayar groaned and rubbed his head. He was a masochist, it was the only explanation for why it was he did what he did and why he continued to torment himself. Maybe he should find someone to enjoy while he was here, some blond white boy with blue eyes would probably help. At the very least it’d be a start.

—

The streets of the Golden Peony were rather crowded as it got later. Spayar, Von, and a whore he’d bought from the Swan Song were on their way to a well known theater to watch one of the new plays showing. "So me and my friend are going to a party," Von was telling the pretty thing hanging off his arm as the three of them walked down the sidewalk.

"Really?" she asked, "Do I get to come?" she batted her eyes at him.

"I'm afraid not. I don't think your company would be welcome.”

"Nonsense, I make any party better," she claimed.

"It's for a three year old's naming day," Von said.

"Oh," she made a slight face and Spayar laughed.

"I don't think they're mother would appreciate me bringing you along," Von apologized. "But, perhaps you can help.”

"Anything," she said sweetly, holding onto Von’s arm with both hands.

"I have no idea what to get a little girl for her naming day," and the whore laughed. "Would you be able to help me with that?"

"I think I can do that, my lord," she said and leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. Von, if anything, looked sort of awkward and blushed, looking away. Spayar just frowned but resisted the urge to pull her off him. Von could do what he wanted.

"You didn’t find anything interesting Spayar?" Von asked him.

"Von," Spayar said, "I know you mean well, but really knock it off," he gave his friend a look.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, Spayar couldn't remember her name, it was Jasmine, or Camellia, or Lily or some flower name like the Aldashi liked to give themselves.

"My friend is being a stick in the mud," Von said as they arrived at the theater and got in line. Normally Von would just announce himself as a Le'Acard and not only would they be seen in that moment but they'd also get the best seats in the house. But Von didn't want others, especially Aklin, to know he was here. So they waited in line. "Can't seem to enjoy himself in Peonia."

"Oh my, that's terrible," she said, "Well I have some friends who might be able to help him with that," and Spayar just gave her an unamused look. It’s take more than a whore to make him flustered.

"See Spayar," Von grinned at him.

"I doubt it," Spayar said.

"Is that a challenge?" she asked him as they moved up in the short line.

"Spayar has a very acquired taste," Von said, "he isn't so keen on the fairer sex."

Her eyes changed instantly, she almost seemed disappointed, "The best looking ones always do," she sighed.

Von paused, looked between them and then said to Spayar, "I think she just called me ugly."

Spayar laughed, "I think she did," he agreed.

"Ah, no, never," she was quick to assure Von. "It's just we don't get many of his kind around here. Dirinnans aren't the most common sort even in Peonia and I know all manner of girls who'd love to get their hands on his dark skin," and this time Spayar wasn't the only one who flushed. The tips of Von's pointed ears turned pink. "I think I could find someone you'd like though," she promised with a sweet grin.

"I think that would be an excellent idea Mari," Von said. Of course; Marigold, how had Spayar forgotten that? Right, because he didn’t care. They they were at the kiosk, "Three balcony tickets," Von said and pulled out his purse. It was five and a half silver which Von handed over without looking and was given their tickets. "Should we get something to eat while we watch the play?" he asked Mari.

"Yes," Mari said.

"Spayar," he handed Spayar his purse, which was actually rather light, he'd left most of his money back at the Swan Song, "go get us something. And try to have a good time," he winked at him and led Mari to an usher who looked at their tickets and led them away. Spayar frowned after them a moment before going to find a concession.

One day he was going to be rewarded for all this errand running and mess cleaning. It seemed like the moment he'd met Von he'd become the man's keeper. When his tutor couldn't find Von for lessons they'd go find Spayar and even if Spayar didn't know where he was he was expected to locate the prince. He'd been picking up after Von for nearly ten years, sure he also helped make the mess most of the time but that didn't mean he always enjoyed the aftermath of it. One day he wouldn't serve a prince, but the Asuras and his advisors would be the one cleaning up Von's messes, that or Von wouldn't make so many damn messes.

A pretty girl took his order at the counter, they'd bring their food once it was ready, straight to their balcony. It was a service only offered to those who had one you had to prove with your ticket. He was paying when he felt someone looking at him. He paid he looked to find who was watching him.

He stared in complete confusion. What in the world? He stepped out of line and rubbed the middle of his forehead to clear his third eye because he was sure he was seeing things. But the woman was still there and she seemed just as surprised to see him. He went over to her.

“Tassa?” he asked, unable to believe she was here. Peonia was the last place he’d ever expect to see Tassa.

“Oh, my gods,” Tassa said, her eyes wide, “I didn’t think it was you,” and she hugged him. He hugged her back tightly. He hadn’t seen Tassa since he’d gone to serve time. Spayar had only a handful of ‘old’ friends, but she was by far the one he’d had the longest. They’d both gone to the same public magic school as children in Uptown. There Spayar, completely by accident, had made friends with the daughter Peony court representative during a mandatory magic class all gifted children had to take, so they didn’t end up blowing themselves or someone else up by accident. She wasn’t much of a court flower though and preferred to act like she wasn’t even related to a governing family at all. “It feels like forever,” she said, still hugging him.

“Yeah,” Spayar said and they parted. Tassa was, to be described in a single word; magnificent. She was probably the most beautiful woman Spayar knew, if only because he’d never seen more fools trip over themselves to win her favor with large eyes, elegant eyebrows, full, pouting mouth, small nose, wide hips, narrow waist and perfectly proportioned like Anceion had taken special attention to her vessel. Her long black hair was done up in ringlets and several expensive hair clips made of jewels and gold held it back out her perfectly shaped face accented delicatly with a golden lip ring on her lower lip. Her dress was extravagant and form fitting, leaving not a single curve to the imagination, and was a scathing blue color that matched her eyes and was almost hard to look at.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, still holding his arm.

“I’m here with Vondugard, we’re just… Visiting,” he said.

“I see,” she said, not believing him for even a moment.

“And what are you doing here?” Spayar asked. Tassa was a Peony, but not part of the main noble house. He knew Tassa hated Peonia and preferred Assarus where here father had raised her.

She sighed laboriously, “I’m visiting my cousin,” she admitted quietly. “He asked me to come to the opening of his new play he produced a month ago and well, I did. I’ve been here ever since.”

“You sound thrilled,” Spayar said dryly.

“He’s so incredibly boring Spayar,” she complained. “I think he’s trying to get me to marry his son,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s a Tann,” she said like that explained everything. To an Aldashi like Tassa is did as their familial hierarchy was strict. Tassa’s father was an Ito, third rank, Tann was sixth rank, the bottom of the familial pyramid. It meant Tassa and her cousin were removed from each other by blood at least three times. Not ideal but legal either way.

Spayar winced in sympathy, “Is his son at least bangable?” he asked.

“Not even,” she groused, “he hasn’t even served his time. He’s a boy. Oh, there they are,” and she forced a smile and waved over Spayar’s shoulder. Spayar turned around and saw an older man standing with a young man, waiting for her. The older man waved back. Spayar grimaced, her cousin seemed far too large for his clothes and his son hadn’t yet grown into his strangely large nose. Neither of them were ugly exactly but he could see why Tassa was upset. “Save me,” she said desperately, grabbing his arm tightly.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it?”

“Can’t I watch the play with you?” she asked, grabbing onto the front of his shirt. “Please?” she gave him her cutest pout.

“I thought we’ve been over this that I’m not at all impressed by your girlish charms,” he said dully.

“Don’t be annoying, Spay,” she said.

“Alright, you can see it with me,” he said, she smiled at him. “What about your cousin?”

“What about him?” she asked and he was about to clarify when she put her hand over his mouth and stage kissed him. A long stage kiss. He groaned in annoyance but at the very least played along, putting his arm around her waist. Then she let him go and ignored his annoyed look. “Just show me to your seats,” she said, putting her hand on his arm and lifting up the long train of her dress so the delicate fabric didn’t drag along the carpet.

“Won’t your cousin be mad?” he asked as he started to walk away.

“I’ve been here a month, he knows my patience is wearing thin. As it is I’ve already brought men home with me a few nights, and some of them came with the help of some coin. Hopefully now he’ll send me home.”

“One can only hope,” Spayar said dryly. “But was that necessary?”

“I wanted him to see I’m interested in men and not little boys,” she leaned against him a bit, “You’re the best man I know.” And he frowned a bit. That should have made him feel good about himself, but it didn’t in the slightest. It just made him feel like a jerk honestly.

They found an usher who directed them to the balcony their tickets were for. When they tried to send Tassa away she just told him who she was and he not only apologized, he bowed and said he hoped she enjoyed the play.

They climbed the stairs to the top floor and their conversation stopped when they saw someone crouched, eye against a door he realized was the balcony Von and Marigold were in. They wore the clothes of a middle class Aldashi, and didn’t look like they belonged and had no piercings on their ears other than a single one and a lip ring.

Spayar went over to them ad grabbed them by the back of the neck, making them stand. The man yelped in surprise and still holding their neck made them look at him, "What do you think you're doing?" Spayar asked with a mean smile.

"Uh..." Spayar recognized them. Not personally perhaps, but he knew who this man was.

He shook them roughly. "You tell the spymaster His Highness Vondugard is enjoying a trip uninterrupted to Peonia. If I find any of his men skulking around him while we're here I'll take their tongues like Anceion and have them kicked out of Peonia. You can tell him Hillsman told you. He’ll know I’m good for it,” he sneered. He probably wouldn’t but they didn’t need to know that. Tongue cutting was such an annoying practice, every interrogator and torturer said so. It made who they worked on useless. Especially if they were Fed or from some other country since unlike in the Alliance they didn’t tend to make sure everyone was educated enough to know how to read or write anything they weren’t supposed to.

“Y-Yes my lord!” they cried, terrified. Spayar tossed the man towards the stairs. They scrambled to their feet and nearly ran down the stairs. He saw Tassa make a subtle hand motion and whisper the words of a spell. They both heard the man lose his footing half way down the stairs and cry out as he crashed down the rest of the flight.

“That wasn’t necessary,” he told her.

“Spies and thieves don’t really get along well,” was her only excuse. “Vondugard and his flower are in there?”

Spayar just nodded and opened the door, he was surprised something more wasn’t happening with the way Marigold had been holding onto Von like he was a golden leopard. But they were just talking. From the slump of Marigold’s shoulders she looked bored and that made Spayar smile a bit. Spayar closed the door loudly and Von turned around in his seat. "There you are," Von said. Then his eyes drifted over to Tassa and they widened slightly. “Tassa,” he said, mouth open a bit.

“Your Highness,” she said and bowed, but she did it in the same way that Spayar did it where she did it to annoy him. But coming from Tassa it was far more elegant and less sarcastic.

"Food will be along in a bit," Spayar said and sat down on Von's other side.

“Who are you?” Marigold asked, practically glaring at Tassa. Spayar didn’t blame her for feeling threatened. Next to Tassa Marigold looked like a girl done up in woman’s makeup, applied too thick to hide the fact that she might not have been as pretty underneath.

“Tassa Ito-Hau-Peony, flower,” Tassa said with all the regality of her status and elegantly sat on Spayar’s other side, pulling the skirt of her dress up just so. Marigold positively wilted. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again Vondugard,” and it was like Marigold wasn’t even there. Von could only look at Tassa. Sometimes Spayar really did have to wonder about the allure women had on straight men. He never acted like this around handsome men. At least he was pretty sure he didn’t.

“Indeed,” Von said and swallowed, closing his mouth but still staring openly.

“Oh, the play’s starting,” Marigold said, drawing Von’s attention away from Tassa’s perfection towards the stage below. Spayar leaned over the banister to look down before leaning back again as the first few actors came out. Spayar wasn’t really watching. He was thinking about Aklin’s man. If he was here that was bad for all of them. Aklin and thus the Asuras would know Von was here within the day, if not a few bells depending if how quickly that spy could get to a post office and if it was even still open.

Intermission happened and the food was finally brought. They got up from their chairs at the front of the balcony to eat at a small table at the back of it. As they ate Spayar leaned over to Von to speak softly, "One of Aklin's men was outside your room.”

"They were? Damn," Von muttered.

"I handled it. But it'd be a good idea if we left tonight, or early tomorrow."

Von frowned, "We just got here," he whined.

"Yes. But my threat won't outweigh Aklin's orders to keep an eye on you for very long. This one was clumsy, the next one won't be."

Von sighed, "You're right-

"As usual."

"Only some of the time," Von said. "We'll leave tomorrow. I want to at least have some time here."

"Okay," he let Von go back to his meal, "we can always come back," he added, his voice level normal now, "after the party."

"Ah! An excellent idea Spayar," Von said, "Seems you can have some fun."

"Everything all right my lord?" Marigold asked Von.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over," Von said and patted her thigh. Spayar just sighed softly.

They finished their dinner and watched the rest of the play, Spayar paying a bit more attention to it than before but was lost anyway because he’d zoned out during the first half. He could tell it was about some Aldashi legend involving a man with a bird’s head and something that looked like a strider but wasn’t fighting over the love of a woman. Or something, he was lost. He was just glad when it was finally over.

The four of them got up and left the balcony room, as they did Tassa put herself between Marigold and Von, putting her hand through Von’s arm. Spayar tried really hard not to laugh since Marigold immediately soured and Von looked beside himself.

“So what are we doing now?” Tassa asked when they left the theater. It was dark out and the street was lined and lit by alchemic lamp poles at regular intervals down either side of the sidewalk.

“We were going to buy a gift for a little girl’s naming day,” Spayar said.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Tassa said.

“You weren’t invited whore,” Mari said in the same way regular Feylon did and not the way usual Aldashi would use the word. It was the only Aldrese word Spayar knew because Tassa had gotten fed up one day while listening to people from Assarus talk about prostitutes. He’d gotten the entire etymology lesson about the Aldashi word whore, which basically just meant an entertainer, some who did perform sexual acts, some who didn’t.

Tassa turned to Marigold, a placating smile on her face. It was similar to the one Spayar had seen on Sinco’s face as he told the Puke Brigade that no, the food was perfectly fine for consumption and couldn’t possibly be tainted. In possibly the most polite tone Spayar had ever heard Tassa speak she said something to the other woman. All in Aldrese and over Spayar’s head. Marigold got very pale and then flushed brightly in humiliation. Spayar cocked his head when Marigold stormed off.

“Tassa, I paid for that,” Von complained.

“From where, the street?” Tassa asked snidely, “slut,” okay Spayar also knew that Aldrese word too. Tassa also got mad at feylon who used that word incorrectly too.

“She works at the Swan Song,” Von huffed.

“The Swan Song is a tourist trap, your Highness,” she said, “the people there are third rate at best. Now, what was this about a gift for a little girl?” and she expertly guided Von away from the theater and the conversation of his bad taste in women, Spayar following after.

“We’re going north to Nedrag for the new High Priestess’ daughter’s naming day,” Spayar supplied.

“How old is she?” Tassa asked Von. Spayar couldn’t see Von’s confused face, but he could guess.

“She’s two,” Spayar supplied, “It’s her first daughter,” he added.

“Hmmm, I think… there’s a nice little shop just down the street. They’re mostly imports from across the Sea, but affordable, and carry jewelry and little this and such. Perfect for a little girl.”

“Then lead the way,” Von said, motioning to her. Tassa led them to a large store front, and within every surface was covered in something to be sold. Glass jars, scarves, gloves, Joti incense by the stick, rings, bracelets, and necklaces all hung from walls and off stands. It all looked to be incredibly high quality and each piece of jewelry was unique and had its own peg on the wall. In the shop front, behind glass, was a piercer, sitting on a stool boredly reading a book with pages that were well cat eared at the corners.

“I don’t want anything too gaudy,” Von said, still just following Tassa, not knowing at all what to get a little girl.

“Of course not,” Tassa cooed. “Maybe a hair comb from Anokai?” she asked and they stopped in front of an array of combs that you were supposed to leave in the hair as decoration as well as use it as a comb. “One with wide teeth,” she pointed at one with a bird on it. “Though the Nedalian love their deer,” and she pointed to another one of a deer curled up in the grass.

“Hmmm,” Von unhooked his arm from Tassa and started to really look at them hard.

Spayar went to stand up next to Tassa, “What’s your game?” he asked.

“None really,” she said, “that slut he bought just bothered me. I thought you’d have better judgement of who you let close to your prince,” and Von wasn’t paying attention to them at all. He was talking with the store clerk about what sort of comb would be best for the kinky sort of hair Nedalians had.

“And?”

“Let me come? If I say I’m going to a Governor’s daughter’s naming day it’ll be a good enough excuse to get out of here without being rude. You know my father is always telling me to be less of that,” Tassa said.

“Yes,” Spayar said, “and your father, wonderful man that he is, has the backbone of a squished grape,” and that made Tassa giggle just a bit. He’d met Kenna, nice man, very quiet and unassuming. Didn’t have a confidant bone in his body either.

“Please, Spay?” she asked sweetly.

He sighed, “I’ll ask. I don’t know if you can come.”

“Excellent,” and she kissed his cheek.

He grimaced and made a gross sound that made Von turn around and look at them, “Everything all right?” Von asked.

“Tassa’s just getting her girl germs all over me,” Spayar said making a grossed out face that made Von laugh a little. Tassa did not.

[xaz-fr]

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vry disappointed in all y’all not kicking my ass about uploading but luckily I did it anyway.

2. What Sharp Teeth

Anora wasn’t much better in the morning. If anything she was worse and running a fever. Relora cooed and clucked over her on the patio while Spayar saddled his horse. Anora was all bundled up in what was basically a blanket with arms but was still shivering like she was cold, her curly hair pinned back away from her face with silver hairpins in the shape of cats made by their father. Once his mare was ready he led her out of the shed. Relora frowned slightly even as she picked her daughter up and went over to Spayar. “She’s gonna be fine, addim,” Spayar assured her.

“You sure you still friends with this healer?” Relora asked nervously.

“Addim, you know her. It’s Mali.”

Relora looked confused, “She’s a healer? Since when?”

“It isn’t very common knowledge. She’ll make sure Anora gets fixed up.”

“Alright. You sure I shouldn’t come?” she asked even as Spayar pulled himself onto his mare’s high saddle.

“I know you both well enough to know that would be a bad idea,” Spayar apologized. “I’ll bring her back probably before it’s dark,” and he leaned down to take his baby sister from his mother. Relora still hesitated before transferring her to Spayar’s capable arms. With a grunt he put Anora in front of him on the saddle.

“Mama?” Anora asked when she realized through her fever she wasn’t with her anymore.

Relora went up to her on the saddle, the scars on her forehead twisted as her brow furrowed and she put her hand on Anora’s leg. “It’s okay cha-trime, your brother is taking you to go feel better.”

“Oh,” she said tiredly. She looked up at Spayar tiredly. “Oh.”

“Just go,” Relora said worriedly. She stepped back and wrung her hands.

“Mali will have her good as before in no time,” Spayar promised his mother and gently tugged on the reins to get his mare to turn. He heard Relora speaking Dirnine but didn’t catch the exact words as his mare walked out the gate. His mother closed it up behind him.

The ride from Bellringer to D’linger wasn’t exactly a short one and Spayar was grateful that before they’d even made it out of the neighborhood Anora had passed out leaning against his chest. They skirted the edge of Smoker’s Den, cutting through part of Tradesmen before finally entering D’linger with its nearly orderly streets with several creating clear sight lines to the Academy at the center of the neighborhood. Spayar got on one of the main avenues and followed it towards the Academy while carefully reading the building corners for the street he was looking for. When he found it he took it down a side street to another side street to a plain door of a small house. It wasn’t much to look at really.

With some effort Spayar got off his horse without dropping his sister and pulled her off. She woke as he gently put her on the ground. “Hey,” he said, squatting in front of her, “I need you to just stand here for a minute while I tie my horse up. Can you do that?” he asked her gently.

“Uh-huh,” and she sniffed looking like she was about to pass out at any moment again. Better than vomiting.

Spayar quickly pulled his mare down to the side of the house where a wooden beam had been installed for just such a thing. He tied the reins up around the cleat provided and went back to Anora. She reached up to be carried and he wasn’t so heartless to deny her. He scooped her up into his arms and walked the few steps from there to the front door where he knocked, rather loudly. He waited impatiently. He knocked again, practically bruising his knuckles.

The door was ripped open. “I heard you the first time! What?” demanded the annoyed healer.

“Hi, Mali,” he said cheerfully and used one of Anora’s sort of limp hands to wave at her. Mali was a good head shorter than him but you’d never know it because of how big her personality was. She was round all around with cunning brown eyes set in a soft face with cheeks that dimpled when she smiled. Her curly brown hair was pulled back into a horse tail high up on her head so you could see her slightly pointy D’linger ears. All of that was eclipsed by the fact that she was a healer, rare in itself, and was a powerful one at that. She didn’t even come from a healing family either.

“Oh, well look who it is,” Mali started out mean then glanced over him and to Anora. “Is that your sister?” her voice dropped a bit in concern.

“Yeah, she needs some help. She’s got a fever and is throwing up and in general is being gross and sick.”

Mali did look concerned before squinting at him suspiciously. “Is this your excuse to come see me?”

“What? She was sick when I got home. Who do you take me for?”

“Spayar Hillsman, d'aelar of Vondugard Le'Acard. I expect the worst, as I should,” she said nearly exasperated with him already and they’d said a handful of sentences to each other.

He made a fart noise with his mouth at her. “I wouldn’t use my baby sister as an excuse to come bother you. I’d just come bother you. Now you gonna help an old friend out or leave us out here?”

Mali made a face. “Alright, come in,” and she let him into the house. “Bring her into the ward,” she said and beckoned. He followed after her dutifully. “When did you get home?”

“Yesterday,” Spayar said. The ward was a large room that took up most of the building with beds arranged around it in a ring and were separated by wooden privacy screens.

“And Vondugard isn’t here glued to your side? I’m impressed.”

“He did his best but I excused myself. At least for a day,” Spayar said and set Anora down on the cot Mali indicated.

Mali turned away from him and put her hands on Anora’s face and throat. Her hands started to glow a soft, dark, light and Spayar could see the veins stand out against Mali’s skin like dangerous roots on her pale skin. “She’s just got the flu,” she said after a few seconds. “Bit of rest, a tonic, and a minor will be all she needs. What’s she aligned?”

“Solar,” Spayar said, arms crossed watching his sister with a serious face drawn.

“Good, so am I.”

“That’s why I bring her to you. The other healer I know is Lunar.”

Mali scoffed, “Lunar healers are half rate,” she moved away from Anora and went to a tall, circular, shelf in the middle of the room. She selected an earthen jug off one shelf, filled a shot glass, and put it back. She brought it back to Anora and woke her long enough to drink it. “If you feel sick again, dear,” she cooed gently to Anora as she pulled a bucket out from under the cot.

“Okay,” Anora said weakly, her face a bit green. Mali just gently stroked her hair, pushing her hair off her high forehead with a soft smile on her face.

“Try to get some rest. Your brother and I are going to talk.” Anora made a noise like she understood, looked at Spayar and then promptly passed out.

“She’ll be fine?” Spayar asked.

“By sunset she’ll be right as a strawberry,” Mali assured him.

“Good,” Spayar uncrossed his arms and followed Mali into her office which was also the home’s kitchen. There was a table there and Mali sat at it, pushed aside her papers, and made room for Spayar.

“So how was your time?”

“I ended up the apostle of an alchemist so you can imagine it was… something,” he huffed as he dropped himself into the chair opposite her.

“Yikes. Was bad?”

“Well I don’t have a gag reflex to vomiting so you tell me,” Spayar said.

“You had a gag reflex? That’s news to me,” Mali gave him a side eye and he had enough humility that he couldn’t meet her eyes at that and looked away awkwardly for a few moments.

“What’s happened while I was gone.”

“You got my updates didn’t you?”

“I did but it’s different hearing them in person.”

“Well… it’s all bad, more or less. Too much snow last year along the Spine, flooded the Meltong this spring, destroyed the Mire, part of Downriver, and Tradesman too.”

“Tradesman too? There’s levies there.”

“Not enough,” Mali shrugged. “They were so worried about Swan Island making it through the rising water.  All geomancers were sent there to hold back the flood and flash floods that they couldn’t easily fortify the rest of the city.”

“That’s horse shit. Verilia just didn’t.”

Mali sucked her teeth but didn’t disagree with him. “Either way, the Mire’s still in shambles, Downriver is a bit better but hardly.”

“You been down there?” Spayar rocked the chair back a bit onto two legs. Mali gave him a withering look but he didn’t stop.

She waited to see if her glare would affect him. When it was clear it wouldn’t she gave him a slight roll of her eyes. “Shortly. I offered some healing to those who needed it but you know how people feel about healers. If they aren’t temple clerics they don’t want to even give you the time or are sure you’ll screw them up.”

“Hardly,” Spayar rocked a bit in the chair.

“Also destroyed a lot of fields around the city. Acres and and acres of farmland got covered in mud and detritus. It’s Asurala and they’re still trying to uncover some of the fields.”

“Sounds like a bureaucracy issue,” Spayar said mildly.

“It is. Verilia is worried. Teldin is in the city.”

Spayar stopped rocking and put the chair back down on all fours, “I heard. How long?”

“He’s been here since Soam,” Mali frowned. Soam was the third month of the year, early spring when crops were planted around Assarus.

“I wasn’t aware of this,” Spayar said with a serious slant of his mouth. “Any idea what he’s doing here?”

“Besides making Vondugard nervous? No idea. He could be keeping an eye on Tallasala and Obi. You know he thinks Vondugard is still a child.”

“He is,” Spayar said but hardly felt it.

“For now. It’s Neyjarra soon-

“Don’t remind me,” Spayar snapped. She just raised her hands at him in a placating manner. “Tallasala and Obi are both here? What about Dellin?”

“Haven’t heard from him in a long time. You’d have to ask someone else.”

Spayar didn’t like that answer but knew there was nothing for it. He’d have to ask Von about it. He’d know more than Mali for sure. “What else? The fields?”

“You’ll see soon enough I’m sure. People are starting to grab up all the food they can get and stockpiling. Theres going to be a shortage this year, maybe next year too. As it is you can’t easily get raw meat anywhere. It’s all being scooped up by others to make into things they can sell. If Verilia doesn’t do something people are going to start charging for raw.”

“Well that’s sort of illegal so I doubt it.”

“Depending on the state of the city I don’t think it will matter,” Mali said seriously.

Spayar frowned deeply at that. This was more than a little troubling. The last time there had been a food shortage in the capital had been seventy-five years ago. It hadn’t gotten to the point of charging to raw goods but that just highlighted how bad this was. “Vondugard says his mother is coming here.”

“She is? That’s probably not for the best. Teldin, Tallasala, and Verilia all under one roof? Sounds like a disaster” Mali said.

Spayar puffed his lips a little in annoyance and rubbed the side of his neck. “It’s a bother,” he muttered in agreement.

“You’re telling me. Everything is getting scarcer in Assarus in the last month and a half. Everyone is scared there’s going to be a shortage and we’ll not have enough food come Lun and Etirin.”

“Just import it? The rest of the country can’t be that bad off the other provinces can’t send food?”

“Way I hear it it’s been a bad year all over,” Mali said. “In the west there’s been heavy summer storms off the Shard.  In the north no rain at all.  East is fine but they hardly have any farm land themselves. South is just as worthless.”

“Yellow Hills area?”

“No idea. You’d have to ask. I just have general ideas. You know I hate getting specific with this stuff,” she scowled. “I’m not one of your birds, I’m a healer.”

“You’re right, I guess,” Spayar got up from the chair. “Speaking of I really need to go check in on them.”

“Figured. Was waiting for you to get out so I can get some work done.”

He grinned at her, “Don’t act like you weren’t happy to see me.”

“I missed you like a tooth ache,” she said and got up to show him out.

“Ah then that is quite serious,” he teased her and headed for the front door. She opened it for him. He paused a moment before leaning down to give her a hug, which he knew she only accepted because he hadn’t asked. “I am glad to see you again. I’ll come get Anora before it gets dark.”

“You better,” she said and finally let him go. He gave her one more squeeze before standing back up and going to untether his horse from the cleat. He waved after he mounted up and clicked to his mare to head towards South Garden nearly on the other side of town. At least he could go a bit faster without Anora sleeping in front of him.

—

Spayar was sitting on the lip of a fountain with a bag of seed feeding the birds for nearly a bell before someone came up and sat down next to him. They had a cup of cider in hand and wore patched clothing of someone who spent too much time wandering the streets and not enough time actually taking care of themselves. “Hey Bruta,” he said and leaned back from what he was doing.

“Didn’t think it was really you. Figured you were still serving time,” Bruta said.

“Just got back. Heard it’s bad down current.”

Bruta grimaced. “You could say. Mirebugs are hardy and the Downies are just happy to be in a better situation than them.”

“How much damage?”

“Nothing a good Asuras won’t help,” Bruta sucked his teeth and scratched at his stubble. “If you just got back you prolly ain’t heard.”

“Heard what?”

“The princes and princesses spoiling for a Conflict.”

Spayar didn’t show the way his heart jumped. He swallowed slowly to keep his cool. That was the last thing he wanted right now. That was the last thing anyone needed right now. After what Mali had told him a Feytol Conflict would be devastating to the entire country, let alone the capital. “Since when aren’t they?” he played it off.

Bruta shrugged. “Just what’s being said around. I know you like to hear the worries.”

“Because they’re usually true.”

“Yeah. Well, there you go.”

“Hear anything else good?”

“Notin’ timely I’m afraid,” Bruta said with a groan as he stretched a little. “Notin’ you prolly ain’t going to hear later either,” he scoffed.

“Yes but repetition beats it into my thick skull,” Spayar said and that made Bruta snort.

He shrugged. “Bread’s two bronze now. Beginning of the summer it was one, last summer it was a half.”

“Meat?”

“I don’t bother tryin’ to get it.  The lady does but I know a fool’s errand when I see it.”

“I see. See you when you have anything else, Bruta.”

“Later little spider,” Bruta teased him and got up, leaving him.

Spayar threw out a handful more seed and the sparrows and pigeons pecked at it. He didn’t have to wait long for a lanky pick pocket to stand to the side and throw part of a potato skin into the mix. That got the birds going. “Was that really necessary, Jan?” he asked them.

“I like watching them fight,” Jan said, looking down at the birds. They turned their glass blue eyes at Spayar, eyes shiny being on something. If Spayar remembered correctly they liked red lace. Spayar had never gotten into that. “Where you been?” they spoke in monotone.

“I was serving time.”

“Missed you.”

Spayar’s lips twitched. “I doubt that.”

“Not as fun when d’aelar isn’t around.”

“So you’re saying nothing fun happened when I wasn’t around?”

“Flood,” Jan looked back at the birds. “Bugs and Downers rioted like the birds. Arm was called. Was bad.”

“How bad?”

“Half the Mire drowned, half of that got torched. There was an exodus.”

“How’s the hunt?”

Jan shrugged. “Good enough. New Lord takes less than-

“Wait, hold on. There’s a new Lord? Since when? What happened to Jackertty?” It didn’t bode well for the minor thieves and cutpurses of Assarus that there was a new ‘Thief Lord’. It was a paper title of course. The guards were vicious tracking down thieves and there was hardly a need to steal. Only the truly poor did.

“Last winter,” Jan’s voice hadn’t changed in tone the entire time. They didn’t even react to Spayar’s start. “Cross is Lord now.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Yeah. They’re from the west I heard.” They looked at Spayar with their glassy eyes. “They aren’t like Jackertty.” Which double sucked. Jackertty knew what he was. He was a minnow in a small pond in the garden with a dozen house cats. The last thing the city needed right now was some westerner from the mountains coming in and making a mess of things.

“You like ‘em?”

Jan shrugged. “What’s not to like.” That was it. They didn’t even say goodbye and Spayar watched them slowly wander away. Jan was such an infuriating person to talk to.  Not even sometimes. They were frustrating always. The two years he’d been serving time hadn’t changed Jan for the better or changed Spayar’s feelings on them either.

Over the next few bells four more of his birds came by, chit chatted but didn’t give him much more information than what he’d already heard from Bruta, Jan, and Mali. He didn’t know what he was expecting but he was hopeful for something more than that. He supposed they didn’t know he was here yet and weren’t actually looking for information for him the way he liked it.

Closer to sunset, when he’d nearly run out of seed and even the actual birds were getting bored of him, a beggar came up to him and sat down heavily against the side of the fountain. Spayar gave them a more than cursory look. They were older and heavily bearded holding a earthen bowl with a few coppers in it and a single bronze atris. He didn’t recognize them right away. “I don’t have any coin on me-

“Don’t be a brat,” a woman’s voice said and looked at him from under a wig. The eyes he recognized.

“Channa?” he asked.

“Yeah, and?”

“Why are you dressed as a… male beggar?”

“Teldin’s paranoid, doesn’t like permanent servants coming and going,” she said. Channa was one of Spayar’s few actual contacts inside the Summer Palace. It was usually impossible for an outside agent to get into the web of spies of Aklin, the spy master. Unless you were part of the larger web or affiliated with a province the spies wanted nothing to do with you. Channa was one who gave Spayar any time at all.

“I would have waited,” he said.

“Maybe but I doubt your prince can,” she said, not looking at him now. She looked straight ahead and her fake beard was such you couldn’t see her mouth move other than the bob of her jaw now and then.

The hair stood up on the back of Spayar’s neck. “What’s wrong?”

“Teldin’s in the Palace, you haven’t heard?”

“I have.”

“Then you know it isn’t good.”

“You wouldn’t have come all the way out to South Garden if you didn’t have something better than that, Channa.”

She wordlessly held her bowl out to him. He gave her a disdainful look. She jingled the coins in it. “I can’t believe I’m being hit up for money by a royal servant,” he grumbled, took out his purse and put half a platinum into the bowl. She pulled the bowl back and tucked it under her shapeless clothing.

“When Teldin does come to the Winter Palace it’s alone, or briefly. This is neither. He’s got Yin Thorn and Sade Mandaria with him.” All of skin on Spayar’s arms prickled. “And he’s been here since Soam. It’s made Tallasala temperamental and Obi even more difficult to deal with than usual.”

Spayar rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How long has Sade been here?”

“She came with Teldin. They’ve been in the Palace for months.”

“Anything important you can tell me?”

“Teldin is pushing Tallasala’s buttons,” she said in a dangerous tone.

“What about Dellin? Anything about him?”

“He’s somewhere in the Hook last time I heard. Not sure where. He keeps to himself with that shadow of his.”

“I heard a rumor of a Feytol Conflict. How do you feel about that?”

Channa was quiet and looked up at the orange and pink sky. Around them South Garden was starting to pack up shop and close down for the night, everyone ready to go home or out to Smoker’s Den to party. “I dunno. We’ll see when Lun starts. Depends on how Assarus is. From what I’ve heard from — the castle quartermaster even the Palace is having trouble getting all the supplies they need without taking significantly from the general available food stuffs of the city. If the city starts to starve a Feytol Conflict might be the best or worst thing for it. We need a stronger Asuras.”

Spayar was frowning deeply by the time Channa had finished. “I see. I really don’t like any of that but I see your point.”

“Yeah. It isn’t good,” she agreed. “I would suggest, if you can, to get your prince out of the Palace. Teldin has been causing a scene everywhere and the last thing you want is His Highness Vondugard getting between Teldin and Tallasala should it come to blows.”

“No indeed,” Spayar said slowly. He emptied the meager rest of his seed onto the ground in front of him. “Thank you for the information. I need to go get my sick sister from the healer now. Don’t get in trouble on the way back to the Palace with the guard.”

“Easy enough,” she said but didn’t rise with him. Spayar left her sitting there and went and found his mare where she was picketed across the square. He retightened her saddle before mounting up.

As he headed back for D’linger he really took a harder looks at the shops in South Garden. He had been thinking about too much else before but now he saw there were signs on old permanent stalls declaring they were out of stock. The three butchers he passed across the city all had sold out signs displayed for the end of the day. There were fewer street vendors in general and what there was were rice stalls. Spayar frowned. When he’d left rice had been a rare luxury from across the Shard because it didn’t grow well in the Alliance. Or at least a suitable place hadn’t been found for its cultivation yet. Now it was prominent, and expensive. Half a silver for a cup of cooked rice with some meager fixings and a quarter platinum for a pound of it uncooked.

When he finally arrived in D’linger the light was still on inside Mali’s place. He knocked politely and waited for her to answer. She did and brought him inside. “How’s Anora?”

“Perfectly fine, just as I said,” Mali said smugly. She brought him over to Anora who was in the kitchen using some of Mali’s charcoal and scrap paper to draw. “Anora, Spayar’s back.”

Anora looked around at him, “De-de!” she said excitedly. Her eyes were clear, her face the normal deep brown.

“Were you good for miss Mali while I was gone?” Spayar asked and came over to give her curls a fond ruffle.

“I was. I’m not like you de-de and always get into trouble,” she stuck her tongue out at him.

Behind him Mali snorted. “Yeah but that’s my job,” Spayar said helplessly. “Cmon, let’s get home before addim loses her mind with worry.”

“Okay! Thanks for making me better miss Mali,” Anora said politely, bouncing a bit.

“Of course, dear. I’m all too happy to see a sweet girl like you better,” Mali said kindly as she saw them both out. Once outside Anora bounded over to Spayar’s horse to pet her. Mali grabbed his sleeve before he could follow. “Just make sure she gets a good night sleep and avoids direct contact with anyone sick for a day or so. I purged the sickness from her but curing a virus with magic isn’t always perfect.”

Spayar nodded seriously. “I’ll tell mama to keep her out of school a few days. I suspect she got it from there. Flue been around this year?”

“Not yet. A lot of people down current got infections of some sort from all the sediment being brought up into the streets and flooding the sewage. But it’s early yet, the rains haven’t started. I’m sure it’ll come,” she sighed.

“Okay. Thanks again Mali. Should I give you something now or later-

She punched his arm. “Don’t insult me Spayar,” she glared at him.

“I was just being nice,” he complained and rubbed his arm. Mali looked soft but she had a mean left hook.

“I don’t want your money. Have your mother send me some of her amazing pickles and we’ll call it even.”

Spayar chuckled. “Sure. Thanks again Mali.”

“Spayar, are we going to go?” Anora called. He looked back at her and she was holding onto his mare’s bridle and his horse had her half a hand or so off the ground.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said and rushed over. “Don’t do that,” he took her hands off the bridle and she dropped down to the ground. “Both she and the bridle are expensive.”

“But-

“Just get on,” and he helped her up onto the saddle before climbing up after her. They waved to Mali before Spayar turned her down the street and they headed back home.

Now that he didn’t have to worry about a sleeping sister and the streets were more empty because of the hour Spayar got his horse to go a bit faster through the streets. So, mercifully, it was quicker home than it was there this morning. Anora was glad to get down and as soon as Spayar put her on the ground she ran for the house calling for their mother. “I’m so glad I’m never having one,” Spayar told his mare who snorted into his face. “Yeah I love her but Densinn’s tongue I don’t want one,” he led her into the shed that was her home.  While he’d been out his father had ordered more food for her and had someone sweep out the little room. Probably one of his apprentices. He cleaned her up a bit with the promise of doing a better job tomorrow and made sure her troughs were full before going into the house.

Anora was in the kitchen with Relora, happily chatting away. Dinner was already starting to be brought out on the table and Calli was there waiting patiently. He did a double take at who was sitting next to her. “What are you doing here?” he asked Von, interrupting his conversation with Calli.

“Don’t be mean, Spayar,” Calli said.

Von just grinned sheepishly at him. “I did come looking for you but your mother said you were gone for the day. So I was just waiting for you,” he said and by the end his grin was a bit more playful. Spayar wanted so badly to be annoyed with him but he just couldn’t.  He sat next to Von. “I knew you’d come eventually.”

Spayar leaned around Von to talk to Calli, “How often does he come here? Is he bothering you? You know you can tell him to leave if he’s annoying you.”

Calli just giggled. “It’s fine. And he just visits sometimes. Don’t get jealous I might have seen him more than you have,” she very specifically needled him. Oh, he did not like that. He gave her a stone faced look, to which she grinned, and looked away. Relora and Anora came out of the kitchen, Relora with the rest of the dinner and Anora with a jug of slightly sweating strawberry water.

“Where are Spayar and Duren?” Relora asked.

“I did tell them dinner was going to be ready soon,” Calli said helpfully. Relora huffed and walked down the hall out to the forge while Anora jumped into her seat. “You feeling better puke girl?” Calli asked.

“I’m not a puke girl,” Anora said sourly.

“You were a puke girl last night for sure.”

“Spayar, Calli’s being mean to me!” Anora cried.

Spayar, who was serving himself hot bean salad with chilies and potatoes, stopped and looked at them both. “Calli, be nice, I guess?” he wasn’t quite sure how to act like an actual adult in this situation. “Both of you stop bickering and eat instead. Eating is a way better use of your air,” he continued and put the big spoon he’d been using into Calli’s hand.

Calli rolled her eyes and at least didn’t continue teasing Anora. “Did you send that letter you said you would?” Von asked him now that the girls were distracted with Calli telling Anora she needed to eat her vegetables.

“No. I was busy,” Spayar grimaced. “Tomorrow, when the post is open again, I’ll send it.”

“Get it in before Lomedocest.”

Spayar gave him a narrow eyed look. “Are you planning something?”

“Me? Never,” Von grinned widely at him.

Spayar squinted at him, not believing his pretty smile for a moment. “Spayar! Calli’s being mean again!” Anora yelled.

“Oi! Knock it off. Addim left for hardly a minute.”

“What’s going on in here?” like on cue Relora came back, leading two very dirty smiths behind her to go wash their hands and face.

“Calli is being mean-

“I am not,” Calli huffed.

Spayar sighed and tuned out his sister’s bickering. Von just watched with a smile on his face while politely eating what was on his plate until Spayar Sr. came in and barked at the both of them to settle down. Dinner was a much more settled affair after that.