To the eyes only of His Excellency, the Sovereign Guardian of the Free Peoples of Nyaska and the Nyaskan Mountain Range, Duke Horatio II,
I'm writing simply to apologize for the delay in my return. My allotted time away from my duties has expired by at least a week, I think, and I'm aware that my services are no doubt sorely missed, as I am still your only teleporter. I am writing that particular phrase in the hopes that it will dissuade you from firing me when I tell you that I am currently something of a political prisoner. In the Wild East.
Don't worry, Your Excellency. They'll be letting me go soon. I expect to be back within a fortnight, and I'll be bringing some very attractive cargo along. What I expected to be a family visit escalated into my getting basically woven into a fight between a group of foreign ley peddlers and local mortal and fey groups. I'm happy to report that it has all been basically taken care of now, and you should know that my involvement here, while
completely
illegal,
did
help block a potential Thriae hive incursion.
I will give a full report on my return, of course, and I'll be traveling with a Second-Class Bard of the Bardic Orders who can corroborate my story. We will also stop by the Kingdom on the way back, as you requested at the start of all this, and try to do some basic reconnaissance. I can't make any promises, though. I've had enough close calls lately to last me a while.
All regards,
Lady Anya Wetherdean
Teleporter for the Nyaskan Courts
~ ~ ~ ~
"Breakfast, Senya!"
Senya made his way out of bed with a groan. Glancing out the window confirmed his suspicions: It was early morning. He could even see one of the newly-arrived cock harpies on the roof of the henhouse, a big, dumb grin plastered on his distant, handsome face.
They were
not
letting him sleep in, it seemed.
His cock was stiff from endless unsatisfied dreams, so it took him a minute or two to get his trousers on. He resisted the urge to stroke himself only by reminding himself that his sister was literally right outside his door.
It still felt easy to forget things like that. But it was getting easier. He was clearer now. Brighter.
He donned a simple poet shirt and made his way to the door. As he drew near, it swung open, and Anya poked her head in. "You decent? Good! C'mon, I'm frickin'
starved
, Senya!"
Senya nodded sleepily as she led him out of his room. He heard muffled moans from behind one of the other doors on the landing, and bit his lip (the cupid's company was highly sought-after by just about every visitor to this place), but just as soon Anya was helping him make his way down the stairs.
"I can do it," he muttered, gripping the banister and rolling his eyes. "I'm tired, not
injured
, Anya."
"Uh-uh, yeah, sure." The mage snorted, and vanished with a little
pop
, reappearing at the base of the stairs. She folded her arms, baggy sleeves dipping down over her hands. "Let me witness this grace. You couldn't climb a friggin' brick ruin, Senya."
"The handholds broke!" he protested, stumbling down after her. "And I thought you weren't able to do that anymore."
"What? This?" She popped back up to the top, then back down beside him. She shrugged, and he noted the glint of brassy metal around her neck. "It just keeps me on the Ranch. I can teleport anywhere as long as I don't try to leave. They better take this sucker off eventually, Senya."
"I'm sure they will. They just don't want us exploring where we don't belong." He gave a weak smile. "They let you send that letter, didn't they?"
"Yeah, a
week
ago." She grimaced. "Horatio is gonna be
pissed
that I'm this late. Nasty bastard treats me like a soldier but puts me to work as a chauffeur for rich fucks. That swishy fox better keep her..." She looked up from her feet and blinked. "Oh,
hi
, Suisshu!"
He turned. Swish and Mier sat at the dining room table, each with a small helping of fried potato strips and sausage on their plate. The food had been a bit wanting since Bobbin's relocation and the cupid's near-constant occupation, though it was getting better.
"Morning, Anya." Mier waved with a smile. "By the way, do you really have to swear so much? It is the last day, after all."
"Oh, no kidding!" Anya gave her brother a wide grin. "If it's not, I'll set the building on fire!"
"I keep telling you," Suisshu said, tails swishing behind her, "you
can't
. The wards—"
"Uuuuugh." Anya practically oozed into a chair and rapped her knuckles on the table. "Food! I demand it!"
Senya gave a weak smile at Mier and Swish. "Morning, you two."
"Morning, Mr. Wetherdean." Swish raised a cup of bitterbrew and smiled back. "I hope you slept well."
~ ~ ~ ~
To my dear Larya,
I wasn't sure who to write to—I still have few friends in the Lacratian Continent—but when you have access to bard-spelled birds, it seems wasteful not to write someone.
Mier sends all her love, and so does little Alder! It has been difficult. A month ago, I learned that my sister has been home helping to fight against a group of foreign slavers. We had to become involved, so here I am in the Wild East, and Alder has been staying with a friend for these last few weeks.
It is all past now, though. Our business with the Crows (that's the local group my sister joined) is almost done, but we need to make sure they keep their word. Vengeance is a heady drink, but bitterer than the jungle brews by far. The poor boy the traffickers had roped into everything really didn't know any better. Some would very much like to see his head on a pike anyways.
I have not heard from you in some months. How are you and Snatch? How did that mermaid expedition go? I hope all is well. You really must be more careful around the druids of the Standing Stones. I think they have their eye on you, and that is a wild eye.
Please be safe, and keep Snatch safe, too! It is a deadly world.
Love,
Suisshu
And Mier! Stay frosty, you!
~ ~ ~ ~
"I slept okay." Senya gave a weak giggle. "I'm... well, I think I'm just always tired now. But the sprite fleece blankets do help."
"Angora never lies!" chirped the cook, as she strolled in with a bowl of more potatoes, eggs and meat. The cook was a human woman—one of the Crows who had been trying to kill him a few weeks ago, as a matter of fact, a woman with very short black hair and a bright pink lacy eyepatch named Joshu. She set the bowl down in front of Anya, who exhaled in delight. "Well, save when she does. But the fleece sprite provides, Warden."
"R-right." Senya nodded up at her. Many of the locals who had come to help with reconstruction kept calling him that. Apparently, there was still some confusion on that point.
~ ~ ~ ~
To Matriarch Zhau,
We have finished examining the wards, as you asked, and I believe we can salvage what is necessary to reestablish the Verdant Ward. The Mountain Folk charms are intact, and the Star's holding cell is mostly undamaged. Aside from some whorelip some idiot planted a few generations ago, there are no major breaches. We have released those prisoners whose rosters show they didn't deserve to be here, and even brought in a couple new tenants—a couple cock harpies you may remember from last spring.
The trouble is, most of the Crows have already gone to resume efforts at the other two "ranches", and those that remain don't have the magical know-how to purge the ivy and restore the old spells. The recent masters really did a number on this place—it's hard to know where the old magic ends and the new begins.
We will need you to come up and help us. With your help, I think we can finally get one of the Wards back up and running again.
I will say that the Warden's sister, Anya, has been very helpful for a trespassing foreigner. She does not have the magic to fix the old spells, but seems to understand most of the recent alterations, and might be able to help you when you get here. It also gives us a nice excuse to keep the more, um, uncivilly-minded fey from just killing or enslaving her. Some of them really want to.
With all respect,
Joshu Zensai
~ ~ ~ ~
"Ah." The basement door creaked open, and the wrinkled old village matriarch, Zhau, stepped into the dining room. She said something brief to Joshu, who laughed and nodded, gesturing to him.
Senya bit his lip, feeling too awkward to sit but extremely uncomfortable standing.
The matriarch walked over, performed some sort of traditiomal greeting to Suisshu—which Swish, as always, returned—and promptly stole Mier's plate of food.
"Hey!" the doppelganger protested, shifting into the form of an even more ancient-looking woman. "Respect your elders, kid!"
The matriarch grinned and ignored her as she sat down and started eating.
"How is it going?" Anya asked.
Joshu translated for the matriarch, received a grumbled reply, and turned back to Anya. "She says it's almost done. You and Nun were right about the swallowtails."
"So that, uh, Verdant Star... it won't act up anymore?" Mier was still scowling at the elder, but she also sounded a little concerned.
Probably because the Star was located roughly right beneath her feet.
"Star is quiet," said the matriarch matter-of-factly, bypassing her translator. "Warden made it quiet. Made it happy. Full. Easy to bind."
She then said something else in her tongue, which the cook translated: "But whether or not it will hold prisoners forever is another matter."
Suisshu suddenly seemed very interested in the grain of the table wood.
"Well, I certainly hope it does," chirped a smooth, sly voice that made Senya's cock twitch, even staring across the table at two ancient old women messily fighting over a strip of bacon. Nun sauntered in from the basement and sat down, clutching a large mug of warm milk in both hands.
As she walked, Senya noticed a curious jingling—like that of Valina's collar, almost, but muffled—from one of her pockets. He thought about asking about that, but someone else spoke up first.
"Oh, great," Mier said, rolling her eyes as she released the bacon strip to its new owner, who messily devoured it, "let's all just gather around here while the cook is in here. Gosh, let's call Valina and that bard and those slime girls in here, too, have a real party of it."
Nun ignored her, sitting down next to Anya—much to Anya's clear discomfort, and probably not just because the room was getting a bit cramped now. "Because, first, it is
far
too crowded in this house, and the sooner there aren't three mages that squabble over runes like chickens over corn, the better." She took a long sip. "And second, Sylvia's leg is healed."
They were all quiet at this. Mier shifted, almost unconsciously, back into that batfolk form she kept slipping into, and both she and Suisshu were blushing—and so was Anya.
"What happens if they get out?" Senya asked, Sylvia's sweet whispers ringing in his ears. "Could we even stop them?"
"The second they get out," Nun said, smirking ruefully, "they will call the hive, and it will be an incursion. You have no idea how close it came, sweet boy."
"And you have no idea what they're in here for," said a voice from the doorway. They all turned to see Valina, leaning against the frame, fiddling with what looked like a glass flute. "Those three will not call the hive first. They will start a new one, slowly picking us off one-by-one, playing with our memories. For all we know, they are already free and scheming." Her eyes glimmered. "For all we know, some of us are already compromi—"
