Snarg didn't move as the group approached. From the outside if might seem like he was dumb and oblivious to their ire, but, in actuality, he just didn't really care about the group. They clearly didn't know who he was or what he was capable of or they might have decided against trying to strong-arm him. He didn't know what he'd ended up doing with Siege and maybe part of him should be worried about that lapse in memory, but mostly he just felt awful and was annoyed. Annoyed at himself for not just sitting there and glaring at the giant armor, annoyed that he had let himself get so far, annoyed at waking up to this mess.

Then the boot pressed against his back and he groaned. Not the kind of groan that one might expect from someone working through the worst hangover ever, but the exasperated groan of someone who knew what was coming and wasn't happy about it. And they wouldn't be happy about it either.

Since it probably would end up with them dead.

"You're gonna have to be more specific." He growled, still unmoving on the riverbank. He hadn't even turned to look at them or made any indication he felt anything about their presence.

He didn't want to fight them, but if they were stupid enough to make him defend himself, they'd be ripped asunder faster than their little minds could comprehend. Snarg was a giant of a man both in height and muscle and his current attire did nothing to hide the fact from any of them. His shirt had been lost at some point and showed numerous scars along his arms and back that were intertwined with black ink that stretched up the back of his neck and dispersed amongst shaved hair on the sides of his head. He was still soaking wet, but the sun had already dried his skin and his loose linen pants would dry quick enough. The only thing that really pointed to him having just come out of the river were the drops of water that trailed down his back from the braids tied to the top of his head.

"And you should re-think touching me." He added.

Jin lead them back up the little side staircase and towards the flat where he had found the amazing buns. A quick lick of his lips gave him the satisfactory residual taste of remaining crumbs and he smiled thinking how soon they'd be able to eat more of them. Whoever had made the little treats sure knew what they were doing!

"A little more, Necklace." He said gently, giving her a motherly pat on the arm, "Just a few more stairs."

Man, when had he become so nice? Most people would just ignore her and move on with their life, but he? He was going to help her find food and make sure she was all safe like and taken care of. Lil mama Jin. The good luck master who could pick up all the ladies....literally!

"Your foot alright?" he asked, still not even noticing the blood that was on his own face. It was hard to tell if he didn't notice or simply didn't care. Perhaps it was a bit of both, or perhaps he was just so used to it given his line of work.

"Work." Most people would argue that what he did wasn't work, but he disagreed. They clearly didn't know how difficult it was to steal from people or to find a way to get stuff for free. It was hard!

"Here we are!" he pushed open the door and brought his new ward inside only to deposit her onto the kitchen chair as if this was actually his house and not someone elses. Then he rummaged through the cabinets and pulled out two chipped dishes which he filled with the remaining sticky buns and set on in front of her.

"Go ahead, eat up!" he insisted.

The moment they entered the walls of the Mtetezi compound, they were set upon by concerned family, friends, brothers, sisters, nearly everyone who had been waiting with baited breath for the two warriors to return. They had been gone much longer than Jelani had expected and the look of relief that washed over anxious faces was so intense it could have set the very air on fire. Their mounts were taken, though Pyla insisted on doing everything herself, and people followed behind to make the process as easy as possible.

No one asked questions. They knew better than to accost newly returned Mtetezi. No. Protocol insisted that rest was needed to receive the most accurate accounts and a full tribunal would be summoned with the Elders for the next day. Nothing would be rushed, especially not with the state of Pyla. They knew something bad had happened, that much was abundantly clear, but their sisters had returned – their leader had returned!

"Jelani..." a quiet word in her ear brought her back from the bustle, "You gave us all a fright."

"I know, Kaz." She muttered to the man who stood by her side, his hand taking the reins from her fingers. He didn't say anything else, but she knew he wanted to ask what had happened and his concern was palpable against the waning desert sun. She was so tired....she wanted to melt into him as they did on occasion, but now was not the time for creature comforts and they both understood that. Perhaps one day they would marry, or at the very least decide to have children, but for now....

For now she was the leader of the Mtetezi and she had a duty to others, not to herself.

"Check on Pyla, please?" she asked him instead, taking a step back as the camel shifted closer to him. Already others were coming in to unload the saddle bags and beg the grooming process.

"I will." He bowed with one hand against his chest.

And then she left him. There was too much to do. Jelani did not exist, only her position. Jelani couldn't exist anymore, not while her sisters were being kidnapped and traded for sport. Not while the dreams of impending doom continued to plague her....

"Yasmina," she caught the arm of one of the Mtetezi warriors who was standing guard. The woman quickly pressed her fist to her chest and bowed.

"Jelani."

"The crypt is sealed?"

"Yes. No movement."

Jelani nodded and let out the tiniest sighs.

Then she went back to her room and began cross-referencing the names on the list she had acquired and the list of her missing sisters.

---

Kaz put away the camel and then made his way to the barracks where the Mtetezi warriors were housed. It didn't take him long to find Pyla's room though he paused when he heard the shouting. He understood how she must be feeling and shifted uncomfortably on his prosthetic leg before rapping smartly against her door and waiting for it to open.

Snarg didn't respond. He didn't feel any need to say anything. All that she got with a soft grunt in reply simply to acknowledge that he was, in fact, listening. At the end of the day he didn't care what this trapped spirit said or how she decided to view the world. His life had ceased to be his own after that day on the road.

He had been weak and now he was strong. He had been honorable and now he knew that honor meant nothing if your own decision making was flawed. Fuck, she had been trapped in that armor for who knows how long – she had to know that same truth on some basic level of understanding. She had clearly made some questionable choices which had landed her in her little prison.

Just because his prison didn't have walls didn't mean he wasn't in the exact same position.

So he sat there. If she wanted to fight, he'd fight. His blades were still attached to his belt, though he made no move to retrieve them. His lot in life was to do what others wanted, earn coin, and then sleep until the next job came along. There was nothing else to it. One day a job would kill him, or drink, or old age, or whatever Death himself decided was good for him.

At the end of the day it didn't matter. Honorable deaths didn't matter. Life didn't matter. He wouldn't take his own life, that was too good for him, but he wouldn't shy away from death when it came knocking to claim him.

"Believe me," he chuckled into her hair, "I am, too." And he hoped it was a permanent solution and not just a bandage tied tightly over a gushing wound that would look promising for a time before blood began spreading across the muslin. But, he needed to take his own advice and not dwell on the what ifs or the questions that still lingered.

So, he pulled back slightly and lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. As he gazed down at her, he couldn't help that goofy smile that spread across his lips again – that uncontrollable kind of smile that only appears in moments of intense happiness – the kind that lights up eyes and sets one's skin on fire. He leaned forward and kissed her so deeply that he could forget everything except the feel of her for a time. It was a kiss so passionate, so joyful, that nothing else mattered – not his death and resurrection, not his mother, not this weird horror story of a house....just her.

And then a pointed throat clearing interrupted his revere and he was forced to pull away and look up at the tattooed man who had come to spirit Cora away. He was back, alone this time, and had the look of someone who had been sent on the worst kind of chore imaginable.

"Come." His voice was gruff and gravely, "Your rooms are this way. The Lady's orders."

Faraji was tired, but decorum dictated that he not show that weakness. Even if they were married he wouldn't want to appear weak before her as it was his place to maintain order and calm lest he be labeled weak. And being weak in this cutthroat world would only invite trouble.

So, instead of backing away and refusing to speak to her about the concerns listed on her face, instead of telling her to go rest so he, in turn, could also rest – he nodded curtly at her request. At a quick tilt of his head, the servants dispersed.

"Come." His words were soft, but it was a demand nonetheless, and he turned to lead her back into his own chambers. Upon seeing them, his father stood and bowed deeply before exiting the room without so much as a word. He understood when words were needed and recognized that this was not the moment for pleasantries.

And then, they were alone.

Faraji motioned for Ibra to take a seat, but did not move to sit himself. Instead, he stood by his desk with its overflowing papers and bits of spilled ink – an unusual sight for someone who prided himself on cleanliness and order.

"I'm listening." He stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for whatever bombshell she was about to drop – fully expecting her to reject him again and leave forever.

If she was expecting some kind of deep conversation with explanations and understanding, she was speaking with the wrong person. He knew the evils that inhabited the world. Not only was he one of them, now, but he had looked pure evil in the eye and been consumed by it.

They were all dogs. Every single person on this gods forsaken earth were dogs, were beasts as she put it. Even the good ones were liars of the worst kind - the kind that couldn't admit it to themselves.

"If you're looking for a philosopher, you've saved the wrong dog." He growled harshly, still looking over the water and not making any indication he planned to move either for himself nor against her. He was just existing with the sun against his leathery skin and the nausea in his soul.

"Is this how you would use your freedom? Saving assassins and realizing that humanity is doomed?"

The woman was all business with Adri, and was finished in half the time with her as she was with Idris. In fact, her fingers hadn't even touched Adri's wrist where they had almost lingered over Idris's skin. Which, of course, he hadn't noticed.

Honestly, he hardly noticed anything besides the stones that sat in front of them and his fingers itched with anticipation. He wouldn't know if it was the right one until he was able to actually hold them and feel them. 

"If you try and take anything from the store, this will tighten without stopping." The shopkeep told Adri specifically, "Even just putting a stone in a pocket will trigger it. You've been warned. We had some urchin lose a hand a few weeks back."

Then her attention was back on Idris and she began arranging the stones in order of clarity and size - so basically by price which wasn't lost on him. Naturally she spent most of her time talking up the stones that cost the most and was giggling and sighing an awful lot when his attention was on those specifically.

She felt disingenuous so Idris blocked out her voice and carefully picked up one of the medium sized sapphires cut into a square with facets that were more geometric and square than the rest. It felt...not right. Then he picked up another and, once again, just wasn't it.

He was probably standing there, picking up stones and putting them down with a frown, for a good ten minutes, possibly more.

"—came from the eastern coast of Ler'aana where the earth creates a very unique color for these stones. But their characteristics are still sapphires so we keep them together."

Idris lifted it, still frowning slightly, and turned towards Adri - only just speaking for the first time.

"Doesn't our usual merchant had stones like this? She never charged us more because the color was a bit off, does she?" It was a pointed question, and one that caused the shopkeeper to pale, but Idris had been watching Adri these past months and he had been learning, even if he didn't realize it much himself.

"Hey!" He protested quietly, but without stopping her inspection and with a mischievous glint in his eye as he finally lifted his head up from where it was lolling behind the chair, "I promise I'll let you inspect every inch of me when we're actually alone." He continued grinning at her.

He sensed her misgivings and realized he probably should have them as well but he just...didn't. He felt revitalized. He felt as normal as he possibly could given the situations. He didn't know what that meant in the long run -if he would owe Cora in some way or if he would have some kind of lasting side effects- but that didn't matter!

"Hey." The humor had faded from his voice and he reached to grab her hand and gently pulled her towards him as he stood in answer to her question. He pulled her tightly against him and wove his fingers through her hair. "I'm fine, love." He murmured, "More than fine. The pull is gone. The buzzing is gone."

He pulled away and gazed down at her with a gentle smile, "Let's just....take the win for now, yeah?" Gods knew they needed one.

Jelani took the time Pyla slept to examine their surroundings and prepare for their departure. It should only take them a day to travel back home with a decent pace, and their camels were well rested, fed, and ready for the journey. Pyla, however...

But that didn't matter. They had to leave. Pyla's condition wasn't going to get better anytime soon and they couldn't just stay to wait for her to get stronger. Jelani would just have to hope she wouldn't get worse on the way.

The women had taken great care of them and the tiny village had done so much for two strangers. She would make sure to compensate them once she was able to work it out with the elders. They wouldn't deny her, of that she was sure, and the Mtetezi always paid their debts.

She returned to Pyla's side when informed her sister had woken and nodded when she declared herself ready.

"Good." She replied, making sure to contain all of her doubts and fears. She needed to be strong. She always needed to present herself with strength and competence, "We're off, then."

They were doted over by the villagers as they left and had a good amount of food and trinkets that could help with survival that were already loaded into their saddle bags. Jelani had told them they had a ways to go to reach their home, not wanting them to know where they actually lived, and the people had come through.

Then they were off, the sun still slowly rising from the east.

"A most marvelous selection!!" Rian clapped giddily as her finger extended to a gold gown covered in tiny intricate crystals that would go stunningly with his own bedazzled attire. On the surface it looked the plainest of the lot, but as the servants moved it towards his guest it caught the light and simply shown.

"We have just the tiara for the occasion as well. CONSTANCE!" He shouted causing his butler to jump for she was standing right next to him, "The wildflower tiara, please. You'll need the special key - but you already knew that, of course. Make sure to undo the enchantments lest you lose your head." He gaffawed as if saying the most hilarious joke and, as servants are wont to do, they chuckled with him when he began laughing.

Constance bowed deeply and disappeared from the room. Lord Wissilworth grinned down at Abby and leaned close again.

"She doesn't like you." He murmured, "Probably because she knows you're not a servant, but that's perfect for our little scheme isn't it just?" He drew back and his grin widened and he didn't look the least bit upset at her at all, nor did he give any indication that he planned to do anything with the information he just murmured in her ear.

"For you are the Lady of the Evening! The Enchantress of Night!" He bellowed again with a laugh and just like that it was unclear if he actually knew about Abby's identity or not. Was he a fool or a scholar? But Gods it made him giddy when the servants just laughed with him, as they continued to do now. He could say the most ridiculous things, and he did mostly because it was his personality, and people would just go along with it because he was rich and influential. They all probably thought he was an idiot and...well...they were mostly wrong.

"Now, get dressed, my servants will assist and Constance will be back with your crown. I'll see you when you're presentable!"

And he turned on one glittering, jewel encrusted foot and left the teal room behind.

The water was revitalizing and he found himself thinking clearly despite the nausea that remained and, would probably, remain for some time yet. He had been stupid to drink in an attempt to chase away his problems and even stupider to think a giant suit of armor would have a shred of understanding on how human bodies worked. No, drinking with armor was never a good idea.

At least he was alive to learn that lesson. Fuck, when did that become a good thing? His life meant nothing. He was nothing.

With a sigh, he trudged back towards the shore where the oddly corporeal looking spirit now sat next to her blade. She was intriguing, far more so than her prison - at least to him. She had a code of honor it would seem, and expected others to live by it as well.

Foolish girl. She had been imprisoned and yet still saved someone who might try to kill her in the future. That kind of honor was deadly. It was the kind of honor Snarg had nearly two decades ago before everything had fallen to shit. He was no longer honorable. He was a mercenary who killed without a thought, followed orders without question, and was lost when there weren't clear instructions. He made poor decisions, that was the whole reason his life had become what it was. He couldn't trust himself. The wind decided his fate, now.

He was on the bank and sat, soaking wet and without even an attempt to dry off, next to Kiri, probably closer than he should have, and stared off across the water without speaking.

He didn't need to say a word.

The carriage rattled as the remnants of the Saronieth family continued their travels from Summervale into the central city of Serendipity. It had been a lengthy journey from their small estate by the sea, with plenty of stops in between for Lady Saronieth to stretch her legs and for Lord Saronieth to disappear for a few hours on "important business," which Miriel knew was to find some tavern to spend what little money they had on some drink or another.

This was a big, important trip, she had been told. It was going to change everything! Her great Uncle Erilon had personally requested an audience to see his great niece in person. Elesar felt like his hard work was finally paying off and there would be important hands guiding their future from here on out.

You just can't ruin it, Miriel. he had said, Smile, be pleasant, get that dull look off your face and act like the high born lady you were always meant to be. Your sisters all married up, so can you.

Sure. She wasn't stupid. She knew what he had been up to these past months, years even. She had seen the copious amounts of letters he had written and overheard the conversations her parents had about their simple daughter who was their last hope at advancement.

She also knew that, no matter how he schemed, Elesar would never rise in society, not after all of the horrible financial and social decisions he had done over the years. Frankly, she was surprised her great uncle had even agreed to meet with them. Besides some distant family ties, he owed them nothing. Even being associated with Elesar and his family could have potential negative results. Which lead her to one question: what kind of information did her father have against the man? It had to be good, she knew that in her bones.

"Are you listening, Miriel?" Her mother's sharp tone cut through mindlessness and Miriel blinked up, not even bothering to speak in reply.

"Elesar, this is pointless." She snapped at her husband, "Erilon is going to take one look at that and send us away."

"Miriel, you do know what to do, do you not?" Elesar asked in frustration.

In response, Miriel smiled pleasantly, as was expected, and nodded like the good little noblewoman she needed to be. No one cared what she thought or what she said as long as she was pretty and compliant.

Her father sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

Miriel didn't care. She didn't want any of this and knew that, as their last ditch effort, she had more control over all of it. If she was lucky they'd just stop this pilgrimage and turn around so she could live out the rest of her spinster life in peace.

"How did you grow up like this?" He sighed, "What did we do wrong? You had everything. You had six sisters to teach you properly. They all learned how to act, how to be proper. Not that you even understand what that means." He turned towards Riae, his wife, and shook his head. Miriel's hope started to rise. She knew that look: they were beginning to realize this was all most likely folly and should just turn around and go home. Perfect. In a few days she would be back staring off the cliffs at the sea while the sun rose to the east.

"Why are we stopping?" She asked suddenly as the first one to realize the carriage had begun to slow. They didn't know it, but she was the brightest one in this caravan.

"I don't know....we can't be there yet." Her father replied while sticking his head out the window to look at the driver.

"Road's blocked, My Lord." Came the muffled reply, "Looks like a storm downed a tree. Could take a bit to get the debris moved."

Muriel sighed again and rested her chin in her hand against the windowsill.

Great.

"We could always just go home?" She offered.

Name:

 Miriel Saronieth

Race:

Serenian

Age:

 24

Appearance:

Miriel is a small, lithe woman who wears the Serenian heritage starkly on her features. She is just under five feet tall and has often been mistaken for a teenager rather than a full grown adult. Her features are sharp and pointed, with high cheekbones set within alabaster skin that accent eyes that look like sunrise. She has dark brown hair that is nearly black and fades to a deep violet at the ends. Even when she cuts it, the color shifts so maintain that ombre effect.

Personality:

Miriel is quiet, but not because she has nothing to say, more that she takes in everything around her and plans her every move. She has mastered the art of observation and will not take action without a well thought out plan in place first. As such, many have written her off as slow or nothing special which often means she is overlooked and even forgotten. She has, in the past, snuck off and blended into the shadows to just exist in society around her family and was neither noted as being missing, nor remembered by locals as someone present in shops and on the streets.

Family:

Elesar Saronieth – Father – 67

Riae Saronieth – Mother – 62

Atrina – Sister – 42 – Married – Estranged

Allana – Sister – 41 – Married - Estranged

Amarian – Sister – 40 - Married

Alessarina – Sister – 38 - Married

Athaena – Sister – 36 - Married

Amorath – Sister -36 - Married

Miriel – 24 – the surprise!

Magic:

Miriel is a siphon, though she doesn't really understand what she's doing or how she's doing it. All she does know is that telling people about it is not an option.

History:

Miriel is the youngest of seven daughters of Lord Saronieth, a lesser noble from Summervale, she is also the only daughter still unmarried as her family used many of their coffers to pay for the six other weddings in the past decade, not that she cares – marriage had never really appealed to her anyways. Each of her sisters were married in an attempt to raise their family's station, but even with so many familial connections they were never quite able to rise higher than their current situation. Her eldest sister cut off all ties after their father, Elesar, attempted to blackmail her husband in a desperate attempt to acquire more land which resulted in a visit from law enforcement. Now the guards keep a close eye on her father and he has been labled as "untrustworthy" in the community. As such, despite his uncle being quite a high ranking noble, Elesar and his family have been kept at an arms length and only get invited to big family events when appearances make it necessary.

It is rumored that Elesar has been attempting to marry Miriel off to someone from his uncle's house – but distant enough in relation to not raise alarm.

Name: Li Mingzhu

Race: Shengu

Age: 36

Title: Lady of Beauty

Appearance:

Mingzhu is 5'4" and of a lithe, graceful build. Her dark hair is kept long and usually worn half-up with twists that are adorned with flower petals from blossoms of her own crafting that are not only unique in appearance, but also never seem to fade thanks to a mix of her own making. She also adorns her antlers with precious stones laced through gold and silver chains. Her lavender eyes are surrounded by thick, dark lashes that are painted perfectly before showing her face outside of her own private chambers. She is always impeccably dressed, soft spoken, and the epitome of grace and decorum.

Family: Small and unassuming in one of the outermost provinces, the Li family works as farmers and, while not poor farmers, they are also very clearly a working family. Mingzhu's mother passed when she was a young girl after the birth of her 3rd brother. She has six siblings – 4 sisters and 3 brothers.

Zheng Ailun (18) – Mingzhu's child, Prince, Son to His Imperial Majesty, Emperor of the World. Lord of Countless Years

Zheng Daiyu (16) – Mingzhu's child, Princess, Daughter to His Imperial Majesty, Emperor of the World. Lord of Countless Years

Magic: Nature centered alchemy – especially gifted in horticulture. Her art is subtle and with the prowess of a master she can grow any plant imagined and is even able to create blossoms that are completely unique. She also has a personal recipe, that she does not share with others, that causes the blooms to remain as they are indefinitely. These skills have allowed her to create a unique style that are the envy of many both in and out of the royal inner circle. Though she would never state it out loud, she is incredibly proud of her achievements on this front and guards the secrets of her craft. Not even her children have been given the instructions.

History: When Mingzhu was born, her family and her entire village knew she was destined for greatness. Her beauty was beyond compare to the rest of the girls her age and, because of this, the entire community worked together to make sure she was well educated with the sole intent to present her to the emperor when she came of age to become one of his concubines. Instead of working in the fields, she learned the art of Alchemy and found she was especially skilled in creating draughts that caused flowers to bloom and has even created her own form of blossoms with her skills. She felt quite lonely growing up in seclusion, learning proper etiquette, and learning the more regal arts necessary to impress the Emperor, but she also understood the sacrifices her community made for her. Her parents went hungry for quite some time to afford proper clothes and the best flowerpot shoes for their daughter. When she eventually was old enough, she was sent, alone, to the capitol, to seek the Emperor's favor.

Luck was on her side, it would seem, as when she arrived she was able to submit herself as an applicant to the Lady of Beauty and not just a concubine. Between her diplomatic skills, her abilities with potions, and her appearance, she won the application and was married to the Emperor shortly after at just 17. Her immediate family was raised in status and moved closer to the Capitol where they were gifted a small estate outside of the city.

Faraji was already standing by the time Ibra rolled her eyes and he caught the entire display with only a small sense of defeat. He knew she didn't like any of this. He knew that having her protected was bound to send her into flight like a young sparrow, but he couldn't let her just exist like she wanted to. Not now. Not when her very life hung in the balance.

Maybe she would never marry him. Maybe she would simply introduce him to his son and then walk out of his life. Maybe he would end up marrying Saanvi by choice just to ignore the fact that everything in his life was one giant crumbling wall that was losing its foundation against a raging flood.

"I asked them to." He said quietly, ever the epitome of high bred grace, "Your safety is of utmost importance and I will not see you placed in harms way again under my roof."

He was tired. His eyes were hooded and he could feel his words clipping more than usual, though he had no control over it now.

Now it was his turn to sigh and the mask broke if only for a moment to reveal the deep seated exhaustion that threatened to consume him, "They melted a wall, Ibra."

Snarg didn't even have the chance to reply, whether because it was just that quick of a transition or because he had blacked out for a moment, he couldn't be sure. All he knew was one moment she was asking him if he was a warrior, the next he was being flung into the river. A large river, at that. One that, one a bad day, had currents that could sweep someone away faster than an arrow flew. Today, it would seem, Snarg was in luck because the water was calm and the banks lower from drought.

And so, Snarg sunk beneath the surface but stayed generally in the same location where he had been thrown. The water was cold and pushed the nausea away as clarity returned. He felt awakened and alert where before he had been dull. He still felt horrible, to be clear, and let himself simply exist beneath the surface where silence reigned. It was peaceful. He could just remain here on the silt bed and let sleep take him and it would be a gentle way to go in his estimation. Silence that begot silence. Calm and opened the door to serenity.

Yes...he could just let it all end here. Gods knew it would take more effort to swim up than to just exist.

And so he remained there for a time, not terribly long, but certainly longer than anyone would do by choice after being thrown in against their will. Perhaps Kiri would think he was too sick to swim? Perhaps she wouldn't even notice.

Snarg was a decent swimmer and could hold his breath for a few minutes with a nice gulp of air. He could probably hold it longer than most, even now when he hadn't been submerged with full lungs.

You don't deserve peace a familiar voice broke through the silence. And Snarg knew it was true. He would never make amends. Once he died he would be tormented in the afterlife.

And so, he needed to live.

He shifted beneath the water and pushed himself up until his head calmly broke the surface and he stood, for the water wasn't terribly deep where he had been tossed and he was quite tall, and scooped some of the water into his hands and drank deeply.

If he was to die, perhaps the warrior would be the one to dispatch him. She was right, dying on your feet was a much better end.

In an instant the deck turned from a situation that was heading towards peaceful resolution to one of chaos and death. They were all pirates so they all knew how to fight and were good at it, but they were also caught by surprise just as much as Elara and that elf had been earlier. Thank the Gods that most of the people on deck decided to side with Nik, if only because they liked him and not Elara, but that was a situation he would deal with later. He didn't have time to think about what her death would mean or what her living would mean either. Too much to worry about. Too much to deal with.

For now he just needed to stay alive.

And he had given his sword to Fletcher.

Gods Dammit. Fuck all!

It took some time for the swarm to reach him, but when they did they were thankfully far outnumbered as only a handful it seemed remained purely loyal to Aikios. And hell, maybe they had come on board at his discretion with the sole purpose of mutiny. He wouldn't put anything past the horse anymore. Nik had been duped. He had truly thought that the guy was upstanding and whatnot.

Serves him right. He had never been a good judge of character.

Then they were through. Just one, it seemed, but she was making a straight line for Nik.

Fuck.

This was it.

He never did like fighting, which actually served him quite well now. Instead of relying on blades and blood, he dodged an dodged well. The woman took a swipe towards his face and he was gone before the blade even came close. Then she saw him to her left and lunged, but again, he was gone like smoke. People never knew what to do with this kind of altercation. They expected to be met head on, but Nik liked to keep them confused – disoriented.

So he kept moving. Left, then right, then a quick duck onto the ground. Then he was behind her and had managed to pilfer two daggers from her belt where they sat forgotten while she held her sword. Then her belt was sliced in two before she realized what was happening and, like a bad short story, she became distracted by her now-too-loose pants. Nik was able to pressure her then, continuing to dodge, until they were at the edge of the ship and he threw her into the ocean.

Good.

That was over.

Now for the others.

He turned and his eyes were instantly met by Aikios who was making his way straight towards him.

Idris didn't understand how Adri could have so much faith in him. Didn't she understand that he was just making it up as they went? If he were being completely honest with himself, the only reason he did anything was because she was there pushing him forward. So, by that logic, he was only good at anything because of her. At least by way of business. Up until this point in his life he ignored the numbers and just wanted to create for creation's sake. Now he needed to make her proud. He needed to make sure she was taken care of and knowing those numbers was the only way that was going to happen.

He refused to see her nearly dead in the middle of an abandoned house filled with wildflowers. No, never again. Wasn't going to happen.

So he ignored every part of his that screamed to run away and he stepped over the threshold and into an incredibly well lit storefront. It was quite possibly the prettiest store he had ever seen! There were counters that looked to be mahogany, but he couldn't be sure since he wasn't exactly a tree expert. Regardless, they were shining with proper care and were topped with exquisite glass cases that were filled with different stones in varying sizes and variety. One side had a sign that read "magic infused," while another stated, "Rough cut." It was nothing like the exchanges he'd had before and it was clear that this store brought in a lot of money.

Idris was equally surprised to see a number of noble men and women perusing the stones when he knew perfectly well they didn't know how to do any kind of smithing that would make owning the gems worth their time. Perhaps they just liked to source their own things? Or own pretty trinkets to display for guests? That seemed weird, but nobles were weird. Besides, it wasn't like there were that many jewelers in the area. Maybe six at most not including Idris.

Weird. The whole thing was odd.

But that probably meant he just wasn't used to seeing what successful merchants looked like or were able to achieve. One day perhaps he would be able to have an entire storefront that looked just like this that were covered in glass baubles infused with his light magics instead of the lamps that lit this place.

"Can I help you, sir?" A warm feminine voice reached his ears and caused him to swivel his head around to see the source. As he moved, others in the store began to notice him and started murmuring to each other – that was him, the young Master Smith who was taking the town by storm. That was the artisan who made jewelry unlike any other jeweler in town! That is Idris – he just accepted a patronage from one of the more prestigious families in the area.

"Oh! Forgive me, Master Idris, I didn't recognize you. It's been so long! Last time I saw you in this shop you were just barely of age and were still learning from Master Herald. What can I help you with today?"

She was very pretty. Her dark hair was swept up in a sensible braid that twisted around her head while a few loose tendrils framed her face. Her eyes were so green they almost glowed of their own accord, but that was probably just a trick of the light. When he met her eyes he noticed her face grew pink and he wondering if she was feeling alright. If she was sick and the actual owner of the store made her work, what did that say about the man as a person? Hmm....already he was disappointed that he was here and not with his usual merchant, now he was just feeling less and less comfortable giving this shop his business.

"Ah...ahem...yes. I am working on a project that needs a very specific kind of stone. Would you please show me your sapphire selection?"

Her eyes brightened even more, how was that possible?!

"Absolutely, Master, this way." And she swept past him with a soft giggle and her fingertips brushed his shoulders gently. He glanced down where she touched him and frowned. That seemed unnecessary. But perhaps being overly friendly helped them get customers. Maybe that made the difference between this shop and others?

He shrugged to himself and followed after, making sure to keep his back straight and his face passive so not to show any wonder when she pulled out a tray of glittering deeply rich, blue stones. There was a box of sapphires as small as a pin tip and one that was as big as his fist. He didn't even want to know the price on that one and was honestly surprised they even had it out in the open. That seemed like the kind of stone they'd keep under lock and key.

She stood on the other side of the counter and smiled warmly at him and then held out her hand, "I'll need your wrist, please, Master Idris. A security measure to keep our inventory safe, you understand."

Idris held out his wrist and she gently tied a rope around it. Her fingers brushed against his skin and he noticed her cheeks were growing pink again. Gods, this woman needed to go home and rest...

She turned towards Adri and waved her over, "You, too." She said quickly, the smile gone from her lips.

Jin practically leapt forward when he saw his new friend stumble and awkwardly tried to catch her with one arm while using the other to keep his own balance in place. It was an unnecessary movement on his part because she was already close enough to cling to him, but he did it anyways and ended up smacking into her with a thud as their two bodies collided.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He cried as he caught her. Kind of. He considered it a successful catch despite not actually having to do anything; she had done all of the work. "Easy there, girly!"

He tutted softly and shook his head like a mother doting on a wayward child.

"Gotta take better care of yourself, Necklace. If ya don't you could get really hurt! C'mon then, lets get you something to eat."

No mention of the necklace that was nowhere to be seen. In fact, it wasn't even on his mind as he began steering her up the small flight of stairs and back towards the house with the sticky buns. Jin was a man of the moment and rarely thought of anything that wasn't in his direct line of sight. As far as he was concerned he had successfully swiped the necklace and that was all that mattered in the grand scheme of things. He'd still be able to brag to his friends about it and they would buy him a drink in celebration.

It was a good night.

He was a God.