#solhadur

[shepherds-of-haven]

Do students have to pay to join/stay in the circle? Is it entirely self-sufficient or does it rely on things from the surrounding city?

Yes, students generally have to pay tuition to attend the Circle, though there are lots of exceptions. The Circle's many reserves of gold and the personal investments of Archmage Tevanti's family (who owned a lot of real estate in Capra) ensured that it received steady revenue throughout the years and could offer "scholarships" to worthy students who couldn't afford to attend on their own. I think fifth years and up were also allowed to take on part-time jobs in Capra if they wanted to, though both they and their chosen places of employment had to be vetted and cleared by multiple teachers first. Capra is a predominantly Mage city, so there are plenty of businesses and vendors who have known (or at least heavily suspected) what's up with Solhadur for multiple generations and will give the students a safe place to work without fear of discovery (though plausible deniability still has to be maintained). Like, there are definitely the equivalent of college bars that the students knew it was safe to go to on the weekends versus places that weren't so trustworthy. The Circle is largely self-sufficient when it comes to things like growing food or running its own repairs (having a community of advanced Mages has its perks), but it will still discretely buy supplies and equipment from said trusted vendors and businesses in the city when it needs to; so long as no one is seen delivering large shipments up to "the old abandoned castle up on the hill" and the vendors didn't ask exactly where all these supplies were going (which merchants who do a lot of business rarely do), they got by without raising too many eyebrows!

#Shepherds of Haven #worldbuilding #solhadur #capra #circle

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 7

Big chapter for my @shepherds-of-haven 20s AU, both in terms of length(9k) and plot happenings :3 Enjoy!

---

Xaeryn woke earlier than she’d intended, largely thanks to barking her sore knuckles against the bedframe in her sleep.

She clenched the hand into a fist, instinctively cradling it close to her chest. Red had done a good job tending to it, it was just more sensitive the morning after. As was the way of injuries in her line of work.

But the thought of Red dragged her the rest of the way awake. She ran a hand down her face, fingers slowing as they passed over her lips. No. She wasn’t thinking about that literally first thing in the morning.

Mr. Syndran was coming by. That was where her thoughts should be dwelling; preparation for that meeting. She needed to be focused. Professional.

A yawn cracked her jaw and Xaeryn glanced over at the alarm clock. Almost an hour’s lost sleep. But her mind was already too busy--with thoughts of the day ahead and ones she was trying not to think--for much success at reclaiming that hour.

Wonderful. She groaned as she shoved back the covers and swung her legs down. She headed to the kitchen, made herself tea and toast for breakfast. She knew when Mr. Syndran was coming, it was Red and Pan who were the wild card for her schedule.

They’d promised to come say goodbye before they headed back to Solhadur, but she wasn’t sure when that would be. Pan hadn’t exactly been a willing early riser during their school days, but he could do it when called for. Like wanting to get an early start on a drive.

Best to be prepared, Xaeryn decided. She finished her breakfast swiftly--at least, swiftly as she could with both elbow and hand sore from yesterday’s scuffle--showered, and dressed in trousers and a coordinating blouse. Professional, practical for any legwork she might do later, and didn’t look half bad if she said so herself.

The thoughts she’d been trying to ignore pushed their way in. The gentleness of Red’s hands as he helped her. Her whispered confession of wanting to do something improper. The irritation she’d swear she’d seen in his eyes at Pan’s timing. Tying it all together, the persistent thought:

I almost kissed my best friend--and he looked ready to kiss me back.

They clearly needed to talk. She just wasn’t sure if there would be opportunity today, with Pan here as well.

Xaeryn threw herself into busy work, putting away her evening gown until she could get it cleaned properly, dealing with the dishes from her breakfast, reviewing her notes from the gala. She’d need to speak to Miss Acquell about investigating the portions she’d seen Stormbreaker heading for before she lost her. If she could find the woman’s destination, that might give some clue what she was up to, either physical or scrying.

A knock on the door broke through her thoughts, and Xaeryn’s gaze instinctively went to the clock. Too early for Mr. Syndran.

A nervous flutter passed through her as she stood from her desk and headed for the door. She glanced at Red’s tuxedo jacket, still hanging over the chair, and reached for the knob. It was, as anticipated, him and Pan waiting in the hall.

Red smiled soon as their eyes met. “I knew you’d be up this early.”

“I’m a bit surprised you two are,” she admitted in return, stepping back to let them join her in the office. “Well, more you.” She arched a brow at Pan.

“Trust me, not my first choice,” he said wryly. “But since Red has a class to teach, we wanted an early start.” He smirked. “And I know how you two like to bump gums; figured this way we don’t have to rush goodbyes.”

She chuckled. “You do know us well. It was good to see you, Pan. However briefly. Maybe next time can be longer.”

“Ditto, Xaer.” He held out a hand to shake. “I’ll try to make myself easy to find when you visit next, maybe we can have more of a chance to chin, if you’ve the time.”

“That does sound keen,” Xaeryn said with a smile, shaking his hand. It would be nice to do some more catching up with old friends. “Where’s likely to find you?”

“His office is just down the hall from mine,” Red chipped in.

“But I’m not there much.” Pan shoved his hands in his pockets. “More likely in the gardens trying to impart my wisdom to a new gaggle of students.” He stifled a yawn. “Now, I’m gonna go sit with our stuff and hopefully not fall asleep. Red, remember we do need to be getting on the road soon, hm?”

“I know, I know,” Red said, raking a hand through his hair, something of his usual confidence lacking from the motion.

“See ya ‘round, Ryn,” Pan winked, and ducked out of the office.

Xaeryn’s stomach twisted with nerves at the loss of his presence as a buffer. Did she bring up last night? Would Red? Was it better to pretend it didn’t happen--or, almost happen--in the name of preserving their friendship?

“You, ah, forgot your jacket last night,” she fumbled, stepping over to the chair to retrieve it. The slight increase in distance didn’t help settle her nerves as she’d--somewhat--hoped.

“Yes, I didn’t realize until we were halfway back to the hotel,” Red admitted with a small laugh. “Seemed silly to come back when we were already planning to stop by today.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he crossed the room. “I also figured you’d turn in quickly and didn’t want to disturb you.”

Her pulse jumped at the thought of if they’d come back, of him seeing her in her pajamas and Xaeryn cleared her throat to shoo it away. “I did pretty much fall in bed soon as you two left.” She picked up the jacket, held it out. “It was a draining night.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” he said wryly, taking the jacket. “I still had a good time.” His gaze dropped to her bandaged knuckles. “For the most part, anyway. How’s your hand?”

“Sore,” Xaeryn said. Her fingers instinctively flexed. “A tad stiff. But definitely on the mend.” She brought it up, the other hand rubbing the side of the injured one. “Thank you, again, for helping patch me up. That would’ve been much trickier to handle myself.”

“Oh, ah, you’re welcome.” Red draped the jacket over his arm. “Always happy to help, Xaer, you know that.” He was standing so close, barely an arm’s length away.

She nodded. “And I’m always grateful, and willing to return the favor. But that was... a little outside the wheelhouse, far as things I’ve asked of you.”

He bit his lip, hesitating on a question. His gaze flicked to her hand, her mouth, quickly to the bookshelves, grip tightening on the jacket. “Is that... something you have to do a lot, Ryn? Patch yourself up?”

Xaeryn smiled faintly and sucked the inside of her cheek. She rested a hand on his arm. “Do you really want me to answer that?” I know how you worry.

“I...” Red sighed, met her gaze again. “...do.”

“I wouldn’t call it a lot,” she said, still choosing her words with care, “but occasionally it’s called for.”

“Mm.” He shifted, the motion leaning slightly into her touch.

“It’s usually like this or less serious,” she assured him. “Scrapes, bumps to ice, that sort of thing.” A laugh escaped her. “Some are even self-inflicted due to stubbornness in chasing leads.”

Red chuckled fondly. “Of course they are.” He reached for the injured hand, tugging it close to look over. “Glad this one’s healing, but try to be more careful, Xaer? This case seems like it’s pretty high stakes, and thus high risk.”

Xaeryn nodded, trying not to be distracted by the way his thumb brushed the side of her hand. “It is a bit more... involved than my usual job,” she allowed. “And I don’t do unnecessary risk-”

“Having seen some of what you considered necessary during school, that’s not the comfort you might think,” Red interjected wryly. 

She huffed a small laugh and reluctantly withdrew her hand. “My point, Liefred, is that detective work comes with a few more risks than academia, but I know what I’m doing in navigating them.”

“I know.” His gaze ran over her face. “And I trust you, but as your friend” --did his pulse jump in his throat on the word, or was it just a trick of the light?--”I am still going to worry about you. A little.”

“Only a little?” Xaeryn teased.

“I’m trying to be better about it,” he said with an abashed smile, “so it doesn’t get in the way of more important things.”

“A wise plan.” She smiled in return. He’d been a worrywart as long as she’d known him, she wondered how much success he’d have relaxing that facet of his personality.

A sharp knock sounded against her door. They both snapped a gaze toward it, though Xaeryn’s quickly shifted to the clock.

“That’s too awake and impatient to be Pan,” Red joked.

She laughed. “Given the time, I suspect it’s Mr. Syndran. We had an appointment. How lucky you’re still here for introductions.”

“I’ll be on best behavior,” he said, twinkle in his eye as he mimed adjusting a tie he wasn’t wearing and ran his fingers through his hair.

She rolled her eyes and tried to school her expression into something professional on the way to the door. Her guess had been correct. “Good morning, Mr. Syndran.”

“And to you, Miss Shrike.” Mr. Syndran arched a brow at Red. “And your guest.”

“Yes, I didn’t get to introductions last night,” Xaeryn said. “Mr. Riel Syndran, head of Whitestone Couriers; Headmaster Liefred Antiqua of Solhadur Academy in Capra.”

“Ah, yes, I know it.” Mr. Syndran stepped into the office, giving a formal half-bow of greeting. “We’ve handled some artefact deliveries headed there, though nothing recently.”

Red inclined his head in answer to the bow. “Hasn’t been much coming in for study, sadly. We’ve had to content ourselves with teaching and research.”

“Yes, what a struggle for you,” Xaeryn said dryly. “Liefred’s been helping with the historical research for Solimer’s Torch,” she explained to Mr. Syndran.

He cut her a sharp, knowing smile. “So he’s the one who prompted your inquiry about outsourcing?”

She nodded, flashed a smile to Red. “I felt it was smart to use an expert I trust. And his help has been... invaluable.”

“I see.” Mr. Syndran ran a glance over Red; the half-rolled sleeves, wrinkled waistcoat(at least it was buttoned this time), the tuxedo jacket draped over his arm. “And the gentleman trying valiantly not to nod off in the car out front? Is he another outsource?”

“No, he’s my ride,” Red said with a laugh. “And on that note, I should be going. So he doesn’t doze off.”

Frustration flared in Xaeryn’s chest, but she quickly clamped it down. Yes, they needed to talk, but that was a conversation she wasn’t keen to have in front of a client. So she just nodded farewell. “Thank you again for all your help,” she said, flexing her fingers to keep them from stiffening.

Red nodded, bit his lip, and stepped closer to give her a quick hug goodbye.  “Anytime, Ryn. And I’ll have that information together by lunch tomorrow for you to come pick up.”

That seemed ambitious, if he had a class today, but if he wasn’t done when she got there, it would be a chance to visit more. “See you then.”

One last dimpled, lingering smile, something unsaid in his deep green eyes, and he was gone.

Mr. Syndran waited until the door clicked shut behind him to fix her with an appraising look. “You truly trust him?”

“Implicitly,” Xaeryn said with a firm nod. “He’s top notch and won’t blab about working on it.”

“He looks too honest by half,” Mr. Syndran muttered, and she couldn’t deny that, but he rolled on before she could comment. “What information is he gathering for you? I’d think you have all the background you need by this point, Miss Shrike.”

“And you’d be correct.” Xaeryn moved behind her desk, gesturing for him to take a seat as she settled in her chair. “My handbag was stolen, and my notes happened to be inside at the time. I copied down what I remember-”

He held up a hand. “Your notes were stolen?”

“My handbag was, yes, and with it my notes. Which are written in personal shorthand, so I wish anyone who might try to read them the best of luck.”

“This is still a distressing development,” Mr. Syndran mused, twirling his walking stick against the floor. “though I do applaud the precaution.”

“It might be, but as I said, I copied down what I remember, and Liefred’s reassembling the historical data he found for me in case it becomes relevant. Nothing about this is slowing down my search.”

“Mm. And you rewarded his efforts by bringing him along to the gala?” he asked archly.

“I needed a plus one to get in,” Xaeryn reminded him just as archly. “It was more asking him for an additional favor. One he didn’t mind granting, given what he got to see. He’s my best friend and helped me a lot. Even if it was a reward, would that be so bad?”

“I simply do not care for you to get distracted from the task for which you were hired.”

She bit the tip of her tongue, forcing down irritation at being lectured like a child.  “I assure you, I am still focused, Mr. Syndran. Some mingling and taking in the exhibits between... interviews was called for to avoid drawing attention.”

“And, to the point of this meeting, were those interviews fruitful?” He steepled his fingers over the walking stick as he asked.

“They were, and there’s more besides...” Xaeryn gave him a recap of the chats she’d had with Ms. Aescar and King Kaza, as well as mentioning the odd behavior of the latter’s bodyguard. “My hope for today is to pick up her track, see what she was up to, where she went, if anyone else was there. This ties to her and the king somehow, I just need to find the connection.”

“That does seem likely, but do keep an open mind, Miss Shrike,” Mr. Syndran said, lips pursed.

“Of course, comes with the territory,” she returned.  There was something in his look that made her wary, like he was about to suggest a theory she wouldn’t like. But he didn’t, instead nodding toward the battered knuckles she’d been idly rubbing the latter half of the conversation.

“Have to fight someone over the punch bowl, did you?” he asked drolly.

She snorted a laugh. “No, just a bit of excitement on the way home from the gala. I’d had Liefred leave with the car while I was following Stormbreaker, so I had to walk back and was... menaced by a thug for ‘sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong’.” A thin smile. “I handled him. This is just scrapes.”

“I should see the other fellow?” Mr. Syndran said, arching a brow. “A pickpocket and a menacing ruffian in the span of a couple days? Miss Shrike, your neighborhood is not that dangerous.”

“Oh, the latter incident is undoubtedly tied to the case. Means I’m getting close. They’re trying to make me breeze on it, or at least slow me down.” Xaeryn shifted in her chair. “Unfortunately for them, this sort of thing only makes me more determined. And I have some solid angles to follow today so I get even closer.”

Mr. Syndran’s eyes glittered. “Good to hear, Miss Shrike. Whitestone Couriers is eager for a positive resolution to the matter.”

And a rapid one, from how you keep nudging, But he’d made that clear from the start, so she could hardly complain. She’d already missed one deadline--the gala--and wanted to wrap this up quickly herself. “I’m close to giving you one,” she promised.

One side of his mouth twitched as he picked up the subtle hint. “Best of luck in your efforts today, Detective.” He stood, then paused, lips pursed. “You are quite certain no one will read your notes, should they fall in the wrong hands?”

She thought briefly about bringing up she’d had this conversation with Ms. Aerin last night, but that might seem like deflecting. “Yes. I developed it with Liefred in school for faster note-taking and then further altered it when I took up detective work, so I doubt even he could read it anymore.”

(Not entirely true; Red could probably figure it out with a little time, but she didn’t like the suspicion crinkling Mr. Syndran’s brow.)

He seemed satisfied, giving a nod. “Very well, I’ll take you at your word, Miss Shrike. Again, best of luck today.” He inclined his head in farewell and was gone.

Xaeryn blew out a breath and deliberated on the better course of action from her options. She could go back to the museum, see if Miss Acquell would let her in to try and pick up Stormbreaker’s trail. The earlier she got on that lead, the better her odds of it going somewhere. She could also scry on the woman, or on the green-haired man from the alley. That could be fallback, she mused. The museum was the best bet, and staff should be there for the day by now.

She called the direct number the curator had given her, fervently hoping Miss Acquell was in her office rather than roaming the floor.

It was answered--slightly breathless--on the fourth ring. “Shery Acquell’s office.”

“Mis- Shery, it’s Detective Shrike.” Xaeryn glanced at the clock. “I was wondering if I could swing by the museum to follow up a lead or two from last night.”

“Oh, detective.” She gave a frazzled-sounding cough. “Of course. We’re closed to the public today, gala cleanup, but I’ll tell the doorman to keep a watch for you. When do you think you’ll be coming?”

Xaeryn shrugged. “Earlier’s better; does five minutes work? Maybe a little more?” It might be prudent to walk in case she wound up following something away from the museum; she wouldn’t have to return later for her car.

“Certainly. I’ll let them know you’re coming and allowed in.”

“Thank you, Shery.” She hung up, fetched a hat, and was off.

--- 

The museum, much to her chagrin, did not prove fruitful. She followed the same route as the night before, branched in each direction Stormbreaker could have gone. There were only a half dozen display rooms and they were all undisturbed, no matter how closely she scrutinized. The second hallway, however, did have an exit at the end of it. Stormbreaker could have either stepped out or simply talked to someone without being observed. Security had been mostly focused around the gala. Miss Acquell confirmed nothing was missing and Xaeryn, annoyed, headed back to her office.

Scrying it is, then, she thought, trying not to dwell on the wasted time in the museum. 

If she’d just stuck with Stormbreaker instead of getting distracted... but there was nothing to be done about it now other than work with the problem. She just had to decide if it was a surer thing to scry on the green-haired man or Stormbreaker. One she’d only seen in a previous scry, the other was guarding a person likely to have warding or protective sigils.

It only took a few minutes’ deliberation to settle on the green-haired man. It would take some extra effort to scry on someone she’d never met in person, but she’d bumped into protection sigils before. They gave her a monster of a headache. If King Kaza was utilizing those--and he seemed the type--it was a surefire way to make her day worse.

Xaeryn took out the polished bronze disk she used for scrying, set it on the desk, then locked the door and took the phone off the hook to minimize distraction before getting down to business.

A present-day focus was at least easier than trying to see something from the past. Her vision shimmered, the dish clouding over before clearing to reveal a silent, sepia-tone image of the man she sought.

He was walking briskly along a street, the shadow of other pedestrians few but present. The stores her passed were all too blurred to give any clue of his whereabouts. His newsie cap was tugged low but couldn’t quite hide the flash of green hair, the scar on his neck just showing over his shirt collar. He slowed, checked something on a scrap of paper, and ducked into a café.

That she did recognize. It was only a few minutes from her office, she’d lunched there frequently. Xaeryn broke the scry, hurrying to collect handbag and hat. Lucky for her it was lunchtime, so she could snag a peek without drawing too much attention.

As long as her quarry was staying a while, not just meeting someone to head for a secondary location. Hence her haste. She pinned on her hat once more, confirmed the desk was locked, and headed out, careful to lock the office door as well.

----

The weather was nice, so Xaeryn found herself with plenty of company as she walked. She was the one one to step into the café, which was a relief. A glance around the space quickly revealed the man she sought.

Her search was made easier by the fact other patrons appeared to be giving the table a wide berth. The unusual hair colors of the occupants made them stand out as Diminished even more; her quarry’s hat was off, and his companion’s pale pink hair was corralled by a dark red ribbon.

A companion Xaeryn recognized, though she tried to keep that recognition off her face as she took a seat at a relatively close booth. The One-God works in mysterious ways. She was far dressed down from last night, but Green Hair’s emphatic conversational partner was none other than Stormbreaker, King Kaza’s bodyguard. She was also rather agitated about something.

“...no Diviner, whaddya want me to do?” Green Hair muttered.

“He’s only planning to stay in town a few more days, Darius,” Stormbreaker hissed back. “Our window’s closing.”

“That knowledge doesn’t magically give me the ability to track things down,” Darius growled. “I wanna stop him as bad as you, Bry, but-”

They both fell silent as the waitress approached with Xaeryn’s order. She sent up a small prayer they didn’t look too closely at the booth. Stormbreaker at least would recognize her.

Apparently the One-God was feeling kind. After an extra minute or so of silence, their conversation resumed, albeit in more hushed tones. Good job she’d always had keen hearing.

“You don’t have any idea where he would’ve squirreled it away?” Darius asked, so low Xaeryn barely caught it.

“Nothing more than we’ve found. I thought he was gonna keep in at the hotel, where he could have eyes on it. But he’s not, and whatever the details of what he and Jarkyth are doing, they’re playing cards close to the chest.”

Xaeryn’s brows twitched even as she bit into her cucumber sandwich. Assuming ‘he’ was who she thought, not only was there more going on than appeared with Solimer’s Torch, but King Kaza was plotting something with one of the most influential religious and political figures in the known world.

Which presented her with a conundrum-- if King Kaza was involved in the theft but these two weren’t, she should probably talk to them. They could fill in some blanks, maybe point her in the right direction. But if they weren’t on the up and up, she’d be making things worse to show her hand. They could have their own selfish designs on the Torch.

The dilemma was at least partially taken out of her hands even as she turned it over in her mind. “Circe??”

Fortunately, she’d used the alias for a few other cases, and still had the instincts to react to it without too much of an interval. “Hm?” The pause at being pulled from her thoughts wasn’t an affectation in the slightest. “Oh. Stormbreaker, right?”

The woman grimaced slightly. “Only when certain parties are trying to show off. I prefer Briony.” She cocked her head, expression riding the fine line between curiosity and suspicion. “What a coincidence running in to you here.”

“It certainly is,” Xaeryn said with a light laugh. “My office is nearby This is my go-to when I want to step out for lunch.” She held up the uneaten portion of her sandwich as evidence. “And you? Did you find time away from your duties to see some sights today?”

Briony nodded, cheerful smile and hard eyes, her companion gone stone-faced. “A few. Haven’t gotten much time away. His highness doesn’t care to be unprotected for long.”

If her distaste were any more thinly veiled, it would be sheer. Xaeryn’s gut said to gamble, and she listened to it. “Well, I’m glad you managed it, Haven has a lot to offer.” She set down her sandwich. ”I’m also glad I bumped into you; I was hoping to speak when we could be more... open.”

“,,,What about?” Briony asked cautiously.

“There’s a piece I’m trying to track down with possible ties to Elinden. Wouldn’t want King Kaza to think I’m accusing him of involvement in it’s disappearance with no proof, now would I?”

Briony’s eyes narrowed, likely judging, in turn, if this gamble was worth her taking. She gestured for Xaeryn to join their table, shushing her companion when he started to protest. “And what would this piece be?”

“An artefact from the Jalis desert,” said Xaeryn, still measuring her words. It would really put her behind the eight ball if she read this wrong. “I’ve been tracking it on behalf of the proper owner”--Or near enough, she thought to herself--“and signs are starting to point toward Elinden.”

“Is that why you were chattin’ up his highness last night?” Briony asked with a keen look and faint smile playing at her lips.

“More or less, He has previously tried to claim this artefact through legal means and failed. But his is not the only faction on Elinden, either.”

She didn’t miss the look between the two her words prompted.

“So why were you hoping to talk to me?” Briony asked, tracing one finger ‘round the rim of her cup.

“I happened to note your... early exit and couldn’t help wondering if that was related,” Xaeryn said coolly.

“I told you s-!”

“Darius, close your head,” Briony cut him off, squeezing his arm. She looked back at Xaeryn. “I think we should continue this bull session somewhere just a bit more private, don’t you, Circe? If we’re gonna be discussing things like that.”

“Probably a good idea,” Xaeryn agreed.

“You said you have an office nearby?”

“I do.” And that would work nicely. Familiar ground and all. “Though one thing you need to know if we’re moving there... My name is not Circe Blackwood.” She pulled out a business card and slid it across the table. “I’m sure you can understand how aliases might come in handy for my line of work?”

Briony nodded, but Darius still looked suspicious. “I can,” she said. “Shall we?” 

The three of them settled up and left the café, Xaeryn carrying the uneaten half of her sandwich wrapped in waxed paper. They were all silent as they walked. She spared only a brief moment to muse over their thoughts before sinking into her own.

They had agreed to go to an unfamiliar location with an unknown actor with surprisingly little fuss, and it made her wonder if they were planning something she needed to worry about. Or maybe Briony had a gut instinct as good as her own. She’d deal with any scenarios that arose accordingly. Her true concern was how much of her hand to show.

When they reached her office, Xaeryn let Briony and Darius examine the room as she settled in her desk chair. After they’d prowled around enough to satisfy themselves it was safe, they sat opposite.

“So,” Xaeryn said with a searching look.

“So,” Briony echoed, holding her gaze steadily. 

Apparently the first trust fall was on her. Very well. “I was hired to locate an artefact stolen from the collection on display at the museum and return it to the proper owner. Certain... aspects of what I’ve learned in my search have pointed very firmly toward Elinden  So, of course, it was of great curiosity to me, seeing the bodyguard to the current--controversial--king of that island slink away from her charge.”

Briony snorted, ignoring Darius’ uneasy shift in his chair. “Oh, he’s actually quite a brawler. I’m more... flaunted for show and paranoia.” A sharp, bitter smile curved her lips. “He doesn’t really need me, just wants people to think he does.”

“Well, he might want to do something about the number of records describing him as warlord,” Xaeryn said wryly. “That certainly conjures images of ferocity. It’s also not my point. What were you doing?”

“Why should I tell you?” Briony crossed her arms with a shrug. “No offense, Xaeryn, but what reason do I have to trust you?”

“Fair.” Xaeryn steepled her fingers. “Assuming King Kaza is involved in the theft of the relic I’m tracking, I have a feeling you’re also trying to get it away from him. This would, I hope, put us on the same side, and we could work together looking for it.”

Darius scoffed. “Y’want us to trust you, but that’s blazing hard when you won’t even tell us what you’re looking for.”

She grimaced. “My client specifically requested discretion. I’m trying to give you enough while still honoring that-”

“Is it Solimer’s Torch?” Briony blurted. “B’cause that’s what we’re looking to get away from Kaza.”

“Briony!” Darius growled.

“I’m tired of this cat and mouse bunk, D.” She tugged on the ribbon in her hair absently. “If Xaeryn here is an actual snooper” --an emphatic gesture at the sign on Xaeryn’s desk--”she might be luckier’n we’ve been figuring what happened.”

“I am very good at finding things,” Xaeryn promised, tapping her fingers on the desk. “Maybe if you give me what you know, it’ll fill in some blanks that have been tripping me up?”

“Might as well, cat’s outta the bag,” Darius grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Briony gave his arm a light punch, which made him rock in his chair, before looking back to Xaeryn. “So the Torch is what you’re looking for?”

Xaeryn nodded.

“Well, then, Kaza Ackshin is your man. He timed his visit to Haven to line up with the gala for two reasons; trawling for support of his claim to the throne, and to steal the Torch. Two birds and all that. I dunno everything about how they pulled it off, but he’s involved.”

“You’re quick to throw over your boss,” Xaeryn commented.

“Because he doesn’t deserve what he has,” Briony said fiercely. “And I’ll do what I have to to set that right--even work for the bastard.”

“What she means is, we’re from Dar-elin, the largest rebelling faction,” Darius explained wearily. “We’ve been workin’ to get that muti off the throne since the moment he took it. Outright conflict was dragging, so we switched to infiltration. Stormbreaker here has spent the last two years ingratiating herself so she has better access.”

“Right, that.” Briony waved a hand. “He’s been after the Torch--obsessed, really--since before I started, though. He can trace his ancestry to some Jalis warlord who owned it. Only problem for him is there’s some gaps where he only has a parent or grandparent’s say-so to back him up, no records. So even though he tried the official route, and outright buying it, he didn’t have any luck.”

“So he turned to thievery,” Xaeryn muttered.

Briony gave a grim smile. “He sees it as liberating, he’s that up his own ass about it belonging to him.”

“What good does he think it will do him, to make him so focused?” Xaeryn got out her notepad to start scribbling down at least rough notes.

“Aside from prestige and pride,” Briony snorted. “He’s superstitious enough I think he at least half believes all the applesauce about it bringing good luck or invulnerability and would use it to try and take at least a kingdom’s worth of the desert by force.”

“What, he’s not happy with Elinden’s throne?”

“Warlords never are,” Darius scoffed, and she nodded a concession.

“And I imagine it’s hard to, ah, increase your territory and influence from an island after a certain point,” she said.

“Well, and he knows there’s at least a chance it doesn’t end well for him, fighting three dissenter factions at once,” Briony added. “He still believes the throne is his because he took it, which is why he’s looking for political and financial support to fend us all off. But if he can establish a place of authority elsewhere, he has a fallback in case the ungrateful masses get to be too much for him.”

“So you’re trying to get the Torch away from him.” Xaeryn doodled a ship in the corner of a page.

“It’s two-fold.” Briony curled a loose wisp of pink hair around her finger and tugged on it. “It’ll mess up his plans, makes it harder to establish himself in Jalis if he’s a random power-hungry outsider. Gods know they have enough warlords of their own without adding a new one.” She caught Xaeryn’s eye and held her gaze as she continued. “And we want the Torch back with its owner, since from what I understand she has a solid claim to it.”

“Well established and documented, yes,” Xaeryn nodded, thinking back to her conversation with Miss Acquell about the provenance. “There’s also... a sentimental connection.” She tapped her pencil against her notepad. “I’m a bit surprised someone from a place as... insular as Elinden has the pull to hire competent thieves or deploy his own in any city on the mainland, but especially a hub city like Haven, with no connections.”

“Who said he doesn’t have connections, doll?” Darius smirked.

“Are you saying he did, despite never leaving Elinden? And it’s Miss Shrike. Or Xaeryn, if you really must.” She would grit her teeth through being addressed as doll by random shop- or barkeeps who didn’t know her name, but not a potential ally.

Darius’ brows arched, but he gave a nod of understanding.

Briony, however, was the one to answer her question. “Talquist Jarkyth.”

“The Western Hierophant?” Xaeryn’s stomach rebelled at the thought of one of the most prominent members of the church being involved, but he did dabble in business and politics, and she had seen King Kaza talking to him at the gala.... “He’s not local, either,” she protested, “He’s based in... Heth Macoll, I believe. He might be powerful there, but-”

“He travels. He’s been in Haven four months,” Briony cut her off. “Attending to business and avoiding the home climates. And d’you really think someone like him didn’t find at least a couple hoods to do his dirty work while he’s here?”

Someone like... The phrasing, and vehemence with which Briony uttered it, made something click for Xaeryn. “Are you saying you believe the scuttlebutt about him being a Faceless Lord?”

“It’s not just rumors and hokum, Xaeryn.” Briony let go of the hair she’d been twisting to lean forward. “Some of it, as we’ve recently found, is very, very true.”

Well, that was news she hadn’t been expecting--and had trouble believing. The Faceless Lords were grown-up bogeymen; powerful leaders in every sphere of influence--political, religious, cultural--manipulating events across Blest for their own ends and profit. Anyone with at least a decent amount of influence or wealth was accused of membership at some point. 

Xaeryn had always felt the ‘cabal trying to control the world’ concept was an exaggeration, a flight of fancy, an excuse. But if Briony was truthful and correct, she’d been very wrong. It was a lot to wrap her head around.

“Assuming... assuming I take you at your word,” she said slowly, “why would Jarkyth be helping King Kaza? I can’t imagine there’s anything in Elinden he’d want to exploit.” She grimaced at how that sounded the second it left her mouth, no matter how true it was. Forthright, huh, Red?

“There’s not,” Briony said with a shrug. “Jalis, however... He looking to establish trade in the region with some of the larger settlements. There’s lots of... specialty goods you can only get from Jalis, and they aren’t cheap, thanks to the difficulty acquiring them. Jarkyth probably thinks if he helps Ackshin get this secondary kingdom running, he’ll have an in for trade with almost no competition.”

“So he’s, what, financing the theft of an artefact as a... business decision?” Her thoughts went to Chase commenting how the ‘butter and egg man’ for a Thieves Guild job on the same caravan had breezed. An interesting coincidence, if it was one.

“Would hardly be the worst thing his blessedness has done, if half of what we’ve heard is true,” Darius said gruffly. “Long as he thinks it’s profitable, in one sense or another. Quite the businessman, he.”

“So, what about you two, then?” Xaeryn asked, partly to change the subject, partly because she was actually curious. “What makes you care so much about the artefact, and what part have you played here in Haven?”

“I’m really tempted to say that would be telling,” Briony laughed. “But there’s something about you I like, and I’m keen on the idea of working together, so. Building trust.” She wiggled a little to settle more comfortably in her chair. “It might seem to make more sense, chasing Kaza off Elinden and saying good plan, go build your sandcastle. But. Who’s to say he wouldn’t either set up in Jalis, build an army, and come after Elinden again, or muff it hard, and crawl back to ‘his’ throne in an even fouler temper? We want him stuck with us, so he can’t tuck tail when we win, and has to face justice.” She grinned fiercely.  “B’sides, the Torch isn’t his. Isn’t right to let him keep it.”

“As to the second part...” Darius ran his fingers through his hair, reluctantly accepting this alliance, though it was clear he still had doubts. “I came over early, ahead of the scheduled arrival. Briony was stuck coming with his highness, of course, but that would’ve been too late to be any good, and I’m a known rebel besides. That muti so much as saw us make eye contact the whole game would be up. He’s that paranoid.

“So I scouted ahead with a few others, cased the museum, figured out likely approaches for the caravan when it arrived, and we hammered out a plan or three for keeping thefts at bay til it was safe inside.” He snorted softly. “Only, turned out the schedule we’d found was bogus. False trail. Caravan showed up a day earlier than we thought. Had to hustle to the service entry to keep an eye out. The others posted themselves along different routes, ‘long with a few local street kids we’d been paying for gossip. I asked ‘em after ,and no one saw anything.”

“Nothing?” Xaeryn frowned.

“Nothing.” He gave a sardonic smile as he picked red paint from under his nails. “I was planning to mark the truck we’d been told held the Torch, so I wouldn’t lose it in the shuffle, could keep an eye ‘til it was safe inside. But some hobo started yellin’ ‘bout me bein’ in his alley and rushed me with a blazin’ knife. By the time I’d thrown him off, I’d missed my chance with the truck and a couple of the guards were startin’ to look our way with the ruckus. So I dusted out and hoped for the best. Next time I talked to Briony, she said Ackshin was struttin’ like a peacock over getting his prize, knew we’d failed to keep it away from him. Now we’re shifted to getting it away from him.”

“And not having much luck, though we are on the trail of where he might’ve hidden it,” Briony added wryly.

“So your sneaking off at the gala was...?” Xaeryn prompted, wanting to be sure her original query got answered.

“Part searching display rooms, part checking in with Darius,” Briony said. “We wanted to be sure the Torch wasn’t just stashed somewhere inside the museum.”

“Mm.” She could see the wisdom in that. Xaeryn chewed the inside of her cheek, fingers inching closer to the desk drawer as she debated the wisdom of her next move. In the name of building bridges she went with it. She turned to Darius. “You say this bum in the alley charged you with a knife?”

He nodded. “Just a little one, but it still threw me he was so... fierce about it. Tried to wrestle it from him but couldn’t manage.”

“So you didn’t have a weapon of your own?” Xaeryn pressed.

“Peashooter in m’boot, but I couldn’t get it before he was on me, an’ didn’t want the attention, anyhow.”

“So this isn’t yours?” She withdrew the sheath from the drawer and set it on her desk.

“Hael, no,” Darius scowled, shaking his head. “Got Ackshin’s seal on it and everything.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Where’d you get it, snooper?”

Briony cut him a warning look, which he ignored. Xaeryn was unfazed; she’d dealt with worse. “The alley behind the museum,” she said coolly. “It was dropped in your scuffle, gave me something of a lead. If it’s not yours, and this ‘bum’ had a knife, I’d imagine it belonged to him.”

She watched the fire flash in his eyes as he connected that his opponent, who distracted him from watching the caravan at a crucial moment, likely worked for Kaza Ackshin.

“That rat bastard,” he growled. “Muti.” He rubbed the scar on his neck before focusing in on Xaeryn again. “How do you know what it’s from, anyway, Miss Detective?”

“I scryed,” Xaeryn said. “Saw what happened. Unfortunately Seer is not my main focus for this talent, so-”

“You’re a blazing Diviner?! Why don’t you just spy on the damn Torch and save us all a load of trouble?!”

Xaeryn sat a little stiffer, a little straighter, at his tone. “It’s scry, and don’t you think I tried?! Divining is a valuable skill as a snooper.” She pursed her lips.  “Attempting to scry on the Torch, however, nets me only... dead air.” It was the best comparison she could think to make. “I don’t know what’s keeping me out; maybe they have some sort of protection.”

“Sigils or wards like that are tricky, aren’t they?” Briony asked with a frown.

“They are. It takes a very skilled Binder to lay and maintain something like that, and it wouldn’t be cheap.” But they were talking about a king and the Western Hierophant(supposedly a ‘Faceless Lord’ of immense influence), surely between them they had the resources. “Had you found any clue where they might be storing it until King Kaza leaves? I assume he’ll take it with him?”

Briony nodded. “That is the plan, far as we know. And we have a few leads, but nothing definite. We think they’re in Ashtown, but there’s a lot of people hiding things there,” she said with a laugh. “So we’re having trouble narrowing it down, and there’s the time limit. And since his highness isn’t personally involved, there’s no reason for his bodyguard to pry for details.”

“He’s not personally involved?” Xaeryn echoed, brow furrowing.

“He saw it once, on arrival, to confirm they nicked the right thing, but otherwise doesn’t want to rouse suspicion by constantly checking on it. He might be a tyrannical bastard, but he’s smart,” Briony said grimly.

“So, then, best way to proceed?” Xaeryn asked, mentally sorting all the new information. “Should we continue separately and check in with developments? Or arrange somewhere to meet and work together?”

“I like the first one better,” Darius muttered. “Lets us spread out more and won’t raise high and mighty suspicions.”

“Agreed.” Briony nodded. “And it’s probably better if you talk to Darius if you find anything; since King Kaza’s met you, it might raise eyebrows if Circe is seen chatting up his bodyguard.”

“Good point,” Xaeryn said. Darius looked less pleased with this arrangement, but still nodded. “Where can I reach you?”

He hesitated. “The Quarssen. Leave a message for Mr. Thrace.”

She nodded. “I’d further suggest, since I imagine the king will be heading home soon? that if we haven’t heard anything either way by... three tomorrow afternoon we meet at either the same café or the curiosities shop across the street, Chandry’s. Either makes a good cover for a meeting.”

She’d done so before, a few times, for clients who didn’t want to be seen visiting a detective’s office repeatedly.

“Works for me,” Briony nodded. “Long as I can get away from his highness again.”

“Fine with me as well,” Darius said, pushing out of his chair and tugging on his cap. “But we should get back to it, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Briony stood as well, flashing Xaeryn a smile. “Glad to make a friend in this, at least. And he’ll warm up,” she whispered, nodding toward Darius. “He just has some hard-learned trust issues.”

“I understand.” Frankly, Xaeryn didn’t cared if the man kept her at arm’s length as long as he didn’t dig in his heels about working together. “Best of luck to you, and I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thanks,” Briony said brightly. “Good luck to you, too.” And she darted after Darius, already walking down the hall.

Xaeryn could hear them talking as they walked, but didn’t bother trying to eavesdrop.

She had a lot of new notes to transcribe.

---

Writing everything down took a while, even using shorthand, but Xaeryn was determined to include all that she’d learned. Even the... disquieting fact the Faceless Lords might be real and not the conspiratorial scapegoat she’d always thought. Election didn’t go the way you wanted? Don’t think someone deserves the position they were given? Easiest to blame some group of anonymous, hidden, and powerful string-pullers. But if what Briony and Darius relayed was correct, this conspiracy, at least, was true. And she did have to admit, of all the various bogeymen she’d heard of in the course of her life, this one was the closest to being plausible.

Xaeryn still sighed as she scribbled a note about it. She knew keeping an open mind was important, but she didn’t think she’d have to keep it this open. What was next, banshees were real, too?

The clock showed early afternoon by the time she was done. Events had been as worthwhile as they were time-consuming, however, so she didn’t mind terribly. With the time left in the day, maybe she could fit a visit to Ashtown; see if Thieves Guild had noticed anyone using a warehouse they shouldn’t be. Given Briony and Darius’s suspicions in that direction, maybe she’d even ask if they could keep an eye out.

What would that cost me, I wonder? she thought wryly, before pinning on a hat and heading for the gates between city circles.

---

It was, for obvious reasons, not that easy to dance in and speak to Chase Trinaeste, even if you had left a favorable previous impression. Xaeryn had to talk her way past two layers of brunos, and even then got stonewalled by the lieutenant she’d met before.

“Chase isn’t here,” Ari said, arms crossed and chin jutting forward slightly. “So you can just scram, Miss Private Dick.”

Xaeryn sighed. She didn’t entirely believe the claim of Chase’s absence, but either way, “I’m not after Thieves Guild, I’m after someone else who might be mucking around in your territory. You’d likely know as well as Chase.” She explained what she was looking for.

Ari cocked her head and thought for a long moment before gesturing negative. “Ain’t seen anything like that.” She grinned wolfishly. “Twenty deucalions a day, we can keep our eyes peeled.”

“Ten,” Xaeryn countered, crossing her arms as well.

“Fifteen, and not a danar less,” Ari said, finality in her voice.

“Deal.” It was an expense she could at least partially claim on her bill to Whitestone Couriers, and it was worth it when they were so close and on a deadline.

“Pleasure doin’ business,” Ari said, looking pointedly toward the door.

“I’ll check in tomorrow with coin for both then and today,” Xaeryn said as she took the hint. There were a few other, minor leads she could check this afternoon. 

She made her way back out of Ashtown--safely once again, despite hearing Red’s voice fretting in the back of her mind.

The other leads didn’t pan out too much, though a little probing at the right sources did confirm what Briony said about Jarkyth and King Kaza. Satisfied with the day’s work, Xaeryn headed home for the night. Tomorrow she’d check in with Thieves Guild before she went to Capra, then her new Elinden acquaintances when she got home. And maybe seeing all the historical information together would jog something.

Or maybe Red will find something new in the process off compiling this, she mused fondly as she settled into bed. He did have a knack for honing in on books that had just what he needed for whatever he was currently researching. It was a talent she’d envied in school and was grateful for now. She drifted off with a smile on her lips. The mental image of Red, tousle-haired and surrounded by books, was a very pleasant last thought for the day.

---

Xaeryn woke in a fine mood, and stuck to her plan for the morning--though she did have to talk herself out of the outfit part of her wanted to wear(a golden yellow dress with red and navy embroidery) in favor of a much plainer grey blouse and deep green skirt. Best to not stand out on her visit to Ashtown.

The Thieves Guild report was about what she’d expected; they’d seen a bit of “unsanctioned” activity at a few warehouses, but none of it stood out as particularly furtive or foreign. Promising to check again later, Xaeryn backtracked to retrieve her car and start for Capra.

Leaving now, if she made good time, she’d get there before lunch. But she could always bump gums with Pan or stroll the grounds if Red wasn’t ready for her yet. She suspected he knew she liked having the excuse to visit, and that was why he hadn’t offered to bring the information to her. After all, he knew where she lived now, Traveling would be much safer and faster. 

She hoped, after he passed off the research, they had a chance for a private chat. They really needed to discuss the night of the gala, what--if anything--it meant for their relationship. He valued her forthrightness, maybe it was time to show some in regards to him, she mused, then snorted softly as she steered around a curve.

If only it was that simple.

Xaeryn sighed and shook of the whirling thoughts as she pulled on to Solhadur’s grounds. Business first, then personal matters. If for no other reason than to help it not distract her at such a crucial point. By all accounts there was less than a sennight before King Kaza headed home, and he would undoubtedly take the Torch with him. She only had a few small losses on her professional record, and no desire to add one this large to the ledger.

She bypassed the desk as she headed inside; the girl was deep in conversation with a security man, and she didn’t want to wait through their chat or be a distraction.

She was a quarter of the way up the stairs when her passage registered and she heard the receptionist’s “Wait-!”

A few steps further when she noted the additional security personnel at the top. Someone must have pulled another prank; the headmaster’s hall was a favorite site for the bolder jokesters. Xaeryn was torn between amusement the tradition held string and annoyance at it delaying her meeting with Red.

Halfway up, one of the security men noticed her and headed down, a hand outstretched. “Miss, you can’t come up here.”

“I have an appointment-” Xaeryn began, still walking.

The guard cut her off. “You need to wait downstairs.”

“It’s alright, Kellan,” a familiar voice floated down before she could protest further, “you can let her by.”

Kellan frowned, looking back up the stairs. “You sure, sir?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Pan said, gesturing for Xaeryn to join him. “I’ll talk to her.”

Kellan stepped aside with an uncertain shrug, and she moved past him to join Pan. There was no evidence of a prank, and it made something odd pulse in her chest.

“What’s all this?” she asked, indicating the goings-on with a swivel of her wrist.

Pan sighed. “I tried to call, but guess you’d left already...” He rubbed the back of his neck, then met her eye with a sympathetic smile. “Xaer, Red’s gone.”

The words hit but didn’t fully sink in. “What?!” she blurted, “What d’you mean gone?” We had a meeting. “He wouldn’t just leave.”

“You’re right,” he said, green eyes more serious than Xaeryn could remember ever seeing them. “He wouldn’t.”

Her fingers curled, digging into her handbag. “Panrachus, what are you saying?”

The odd pulse had turned into something foreboding.

“What I’m saying, Xaeryn, is it looks like Red was kidnapped.”

#queens fic #tlbt #shoh #I'M SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER #an also cacking a little ngl <3 #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #ryn/red

[tacticallyplaced-chaos]

kinda long infodump about eris pt.1?

In her childhood, Eris would occasionally play harmless shenanigans on the townfolk with Zori if they’re both bored. She remembers fondly running away and hiding with Zori when they were caught. Whenever her father is back from his expeditions, she love to ask about his travels and the sights that they saw. Her father always gave the unfiltered narrative, which her mother always reprimanded him for, but Eris was always unbothered by the grisly account. When her father is not around, the uncles and aunties were her favorites to hangout with, which leads them spoiling her a tad bit. So to her surprise, when she wanted another tattoo, the uncles were giving excuses that she should wait till she’s older or it’s not the right time and etc.

When her mother was in good health, Eris would always ask her if they could bake when there’re community events happening. While her mother taught her how to make flower crowns, her father was the one who taught her the flower language. Her mother would make the flower crowns, and her father would differentiate which flower is which and explains the meaning behind them. Despite the long years after her Flower’s Day, she still remembers the salty breeze in the air, the crashing waves against the cliff, and the bright stars contrasting the night sky. Rationally, she knows she was unable to do more to stop the deaths of her town, but sometimes she think her life should have swapped with theirs.

Before she joined Solhadur, Eris become reserved and closed-off when she interacted with other people. Overtime, she soon began to warm up and hanging out with the other mages. Capra is also where Eris has her part-time job as a florist assistant! While she doesn’t seem it, she is surprisingly competitive and often compete with Red for the ranking just for fun. They were also study(and romantic) partners during that time. After she left Solhadur, she picked up odd jobs here and there on her journey. Eris was mostly a bodyguard or a sellsword/mercenary. During that period, she regress back into her reserved and an even more guarded demeanor. She became even more cautious due to backstabbing which was how she gained a scar on her back. It was a surprise and a bit scary to herself to how she quickly warmed up to the shepherds in a short period of time. Although she does have somewhat of a loose moral code boundaries, she still abide by a set of rules.

She has a massive sweet tooth almost comparable to Riel just maybe a little less? Eris is usually seen with Briony, Shery, or Halek when shopping for ingredients or sweets. She absolutely adores baking, since she loves to bake with other and make desserts for them too! Baking is also a fond reminder of her time with her mother. Her favorite desserts are ones that includes fruits especially strawberries! That’s why she like to grow strawberries in her room which is also probably why you can smell a hint of strawberries wherever she goes!

Aside from the strawberries, there’s also a small collection of plants and flowers she collected from her travels and missions. She collected every single flower option on her mission. There’s hanging foliage and colorful plants and flowers are scattered across in her room along with mementos and gifts from the shepherds displaying proudly in her room. You can see unfinished talismans or gifts that she is planning to give, left on her desk.

Eris heavily dislikes cold weather. Despite the icy harsh weather in Drummond’s Point during the winter, she never got used to it, which makes her susceptible to the cold too easily, so you’ll see her bundle up in the winter in like 3-4 layers of clothes and several heavy fluffy blankets. She definitely occupies the closest seat near the fireplace if she doesn’t need to go outside. Rarely, you’ll see her outside in the winter unless she has to go shopping, work on a mission, or hanging out with someone.

You will also almost never see Eris without a pair of earrings. She has earrings for nearly every occasions. Her collection comprises of simple designs, though there is a few intricate ones as well. Sometimes, she would commission craftsman/blacksmith/welder?? for new earring designs.

#um lol turns out i was not mostly free #but damn this is long #and all over the place #i don’t think i should be a writer lol #though i would like to be better #oc: eris lior #oc infodump

[magistriofficiorum]

Veneration of the Ruinous

Fandom,Pairing: Shepherds of Haven ( @shepherds-of-haven) ,Niamh/Chase 3.5 k, smut..like… a lot (minors DNI pls) A/N: SOO the first sinful thing I publish is an absolute behemoth. Go figure. We aren’t here yet in the demo, therefore liberties were certainly taken, I just have MANY feelings and we love a Notable Shift in a relationship. I would like to thank Boyce Avenue’s cover of Crash Into Me and the valley by Miguel. And the Niamh x Chase playlist 

“Sunshine?” 

Rain began earlier in the night. She had closed the window  ("There's a chill," she had said, gesturing in her anachronistic elvish way, as he removed her chemise) and the air now smells of candlesmoke and sex.

“Yeah?” Niamh replies, voice soft and brittle at the end, crackling like hearthflame. 

Sitting up, but still unprepared to part from the afterglow, she remains caged between Chase’s legs with her bare back to him. When she cranes her neck back, she sees his gaze is far away, and he begins mindlessly rubbing circles on her shoulderblade with his thumb.

 She was getting better at it-  seeing when the facade cracked- or maybe, she thought, he was allowing her these glimpses behind the ever-grinning mask. Slipping on the expression of casual interest took him a beat or two longer today than yesterday. Perhaps tomorrow, it will take longer, still. 

“How many?” 

She lets her head drop to one side, closing her eyes briefly when he finds a knot and begins working on it, willing herself not to make any more embarrassing noises when his fingers dig and knead with just enough pressure to feel good. 

 “How many what?”

“How many people have you been with?”

Before Niamh can answer, he quickly adds “And no, this is in no way a critique of your skill- just for curiosity’s sake.”

She is silent.

After time stretches too far to expect a response, Chase begins to maneuver her out of his arms. “No, really, no pressure. Silly question. None of my business, anyway! Are you hungry, because I-“ 

“Red.”

It gives him pause, and he sinks into the pillows once more, pulling her back to his chest carefully, carefully. The way you move when trying not to scare off an animal. She’s not sure if he does it for her benefit or for his. 

“And?” 

Niamh’s shoulder lifts in a noncommittal half-shrug. 

“Red. And-“ She sighs and shifts and gathers her thoughts in the same methodical way healers tear strips of clean gauze. 

Chase waits for her-

A moment longer, this time. 

“There was this other mercenary. It was my second or third job on my own after leaving the Circle. It was a fairly short ‘van detail, but merc work…I never was fond of it. He had a small crew, all of them from some tiny Norm town; they took over the heavy lifting mostly, I was there as insurance. He was kind to me. Looked me in the eyes when we spoke. Invited me to eat with them. It had been... a while since anyone had bothered to be decent to me… much less touched me. I was lonely. I missed Solhadur, and it was nearly the anniversary of...that day.” 

She tries, perhaps too hard, to keep her tone matter-of-fact, like this isn't her story. Just the way he does when he shares his truths, as if she has told it a hundred times before. 

“So when he asked if I was interested, the company sounded nice. And I knew it was a one-off. We’d go our separate ways after the job.” Niamh goes to reach for her neck but stops, holding her hand to her chest instead. 

She wonders if he can see her fingers twitching from this angle. 

“It was...fine, I suppose. The next day, I overheard a conversation between him and his people. I guess they bet him...wanted to know what...” Niamh drums her fingers to her sternum, taking a breath. 

“Seven deucalions. Seven he made for bedding a Diminished.” 

She lets it hang in the air, and for once, Chase is silent. 

“There’s been no one else since then. Besides you.” 

Niamh realizes how it sounds as it leaves her but makes no attempt at a better explanation. There’s a weight to it, the unspoken burden. She swears she can feel Chase tense briefly and thinks he will deflect, change the subject, distract with a quip, maybe even try to make himself scarce-  before he sweeps her messy waves back and presses his mouth to the juncture between her neck and shoulder.  It's gentle, his lips still ghosting over her skin, and she feels his mouth moving like he’s trying to find words. He doesn’t realize it- that this small, silent gesture is enough, as he rests on the edge of the ugly, jagged marks that mar the side of her throat. 

“I-“ whatever he plans to say is swiftly cut off as Niamh turns, twisting her torso to face his way.

 She’s pushing her luck, the logical part of her brain says. It says her eyes are too honest, it says they will look for something in emerald green that isn’t there, but she looks anyway with what courage she can muster. 

There’s a steely glint in his gaze for a moment, one that’s not meant for her, and she is no longer peeking behind the curtain but being led backstage. 

Chase pulls her in close - close- and kisses her. Niamh sighs into it, and yes, she’s trembling, but she’s alight again. A little scared he will take it back, she clings to him in return and makes sure to send up prayers to whatever or whoever made it so she and Chase Trinaeste existed in the same time and place. 

She recites venerations in her head while he pulls away the tangled sheets from where they bunch at her hips, then kisses and licks every mark he left from before- down from her neck to her collarbone to the peaks and undersides of her breasts to her stomach, until she interrupts her own litany.

She inhales sharply when he dips his tongue into her folds, still slick and swollen from their earlier lovemaking, her fingers moving to thread through his hair. When he spreads her with his thumbs and licks slow, gentle circles around her clit and down, she butterflies her knees open and into the bed and groans out his name, low and holy in her throat. His forearms press down on her thighs hard to keep her in place, quickly bringing her to a shattering orgasm that leaves her flooded as his mouth rides her through it. It’s all at once too much and not enough. Perhaps a theme in this…relationship. Or whatever it was.

 Feast or Famine. Everything and nothing.

 Chase climbs back over her, wiping the shine from his chin, and she shivers and arches involuntarily where she feels him searing hot and hard, sliding against her dripping slit. He ducks his head down for a kiss,and Niamh tastes both of them on his tongue, and it’s so decadent and debauched her toes curl as he licks into her mouth. 

He eases his way into her with a slow, powerful roll of his hips, and burying himself to the hilt he moves at a pace that is devastatingly unhurried. His eyes are dark but so warm and it hasn’t been that long-not even an hour-but she missed it, the feel of him fitting into her perfectly, immediately finding the spot that makes her eyes roll into the back of her head, breaking her open with every drawn-out thrust. The way he says her name should be a sin, or illegal, at the very least, and he says little else. 

Chase fucks her in earnest- slowly, deeply. The way he pulls her apart, one thread at a time, is different. Instead of well-timed words or touches, teasing and calculated in their sweet torture and designed to bring her to the precipice multiple times only to tilt it over as an act of mercy, this is something else. There is such intensity to his gaze that he rips it away from her every few moments,  as if shaking himself from a trance, and a severe discipline she never thought him capable of. With each tilt of his hips and devastating drag of his cock, each motion that pushes her further up the mattress and leaves her breathless, Niamh realizes what he’s doing, whether it be subconsciously or otherwise. 

The playful hedonistic zeal, a back-and-forth push and pull, is gone and replaced by something heavier, needier. Chase was never like this-restraint a spider’s thread, both thin and steel-strong. It has never been so intentional, shifting to give give give. 

(Niamh is not a greedy creature by nature, but how long until the Famine? How long until there is nothing but an empty room and the gaping hole in her heart, still mending, ripped open anew? By another monster or the man who promised nothing but touches her like she is everything)

Writhing and hiccuping, Niamh breaks again, desperately fluttering around him.  Her already-brittle voice shatters over his name; he grinds deeper and maintains the same brutally slow pace- kissing her, tasting her, breathing adoration into her lungs, his murmurings impassioned and nearly graceless as he urges her to take. Chase lets her hands freely scramble to his chest, his back, his ass, his thighs tucked beneath the backs of hers.

“Fuck, Niamh, yes, just like that, sweet girl. Stay with me, sunshine. God- let go, baby, it's okay.” 

And she swears each time she is pulled over the edge, his pace gets even slower, but with him like that- arms braced on either side of her head, balled into the sheets and fuck when he drops to his elbows and amber and his voice and everything is him she cannot finish the thought, can’t even see straight-

And gods above and all the demons in Hael, he’s going to fucking kill her.

It’s the only lucid thing that passes through her head before-

“Oh shit, you’re close again? Yeah, you are.  Come for me, good girl, come around my cock-just-just like that.”

Niamh throws her head back, just barely missing the headboard,as another wave of spasms rip through her. She smacks him, hard, on his sternum-an involuntary reaction, her body overwhelmed with pleasure and unable and unwilling to relent. He doesn’t even flinch, continuing his agonizing pace and talking her through it. Her thighs shake violently, “I got you, I got you”s murmured into her temple, and she believes it. 

So she keeps letting go.

Chase continues the languid rhythm until her cheeks are wet with tears, everything is fervent and raw, and it feels like it has been hours or days. She’s flooded between her legs; the positively filthy sounds of their coupling combine with the little helpless noises she makes and his whispered encouragement. Niamh can only watch him, captivated as her gaze rakes over his neck, chest, shoulders, chin- all the way to his mussed hair, committing what was not hers to memory, as she often did. A painter could set out a hundred shades of green, and she could find the one that perfectly matched his eyes in a heartbeat. Not hers, never hers, but parts she knew- like how he would notice her watching him, smirk, and lean in to claim her mouth- better than she knew herself.

~~

An eternity passes, and Chase is beginning to falter. Niamh can feel him, pulsing and achingly hard, and gods, she can tell he wants to-needs to fuck her into the mattress, needs to come. Still, he carries on slow and deep, the only outward signs that his control is near its breaking point is how he has nearly gone completely silent, how the tense line of his jaw muscle jumps right before burying his face in her neck. 

She finds her voice, fingers curling around his bicep in a bid for attention and leaving little crescents in his skin. “Chase, fas-faster, please, please.”  She gasps, the words punctuated by the snap of his hips that force the air out of her lungs. 

With no response, Niamh locks her ankles around his waist, heels digging into his back and canting her hips up desperately. “Oh please please f-fuck me, please, I need-” 

Chase slows even more, pushing her down and grinding up into a spot that makes her vision go dark around the edges, and in a low, nearly dangerous voice, he responds. 

“What do you need?” 

“Ineedyoutocome!”

His eyes squeeze shut, and he sucks in a breath, completely stilling his movements. It’s not until one of her hands hastily tries to slide between them to provide herself some friction that his eyes snap back open, the green in them nearly eclipsed by the pupil. 

With frightening reflexes, Chase snatches her hand back and pins each of her wrists to the bed. His other hand throws her legs over his shoulders and in a flash he’s slamming back into her, hard, and begins thrusting at a vicious, relentless speed. Niamh screams his name, collapsed in on herself and with every nerve ending on fire. 

She wills the words not to leave her, for her uninhibited, delirious brain not to betray her and say what threatens to spill forth as the pressure builds and builds and runs through her head, a chant: IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou- she bites her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood and screws her eyes shut. Chase, continuing to ram into her with strength and precision that borders on inhuman, misses nothing, crowds closer and grips her jaw.

“No no no, come back to me, Sunshine girl, you stay right here with me,” He lands a sloppy, open mouthed kiss on her cheek, and rasps into her ear: “Give me everything.” 

She sucks in a shuddering breath and her eyes fly open to meet his, and fresh tears fall freely (a visceral reaction easily blamed on pleasure), but she does exactly as he says.

‘You have it, you already have it’ Niamh thinks, before her body goes absolutely rigid. 

She sobs brokenly, both hands still pinned by one of his, and flexing, desperate for connection-and he loosens his hold to slide up and entwine his fingers with hers. Gentle, at odds with the ferocity of his movements,as white hot euphoria rips her to shreds from the inside. He doesn’t stop fucking her through it, mercilessly deep, and she comes- painfully, madly, and with every last part of her, with- 

Chase’s eyes search for something, on her face- in her expression- what she’s not sure, and it's clear when he finds it- he follows close behind, gritting out a string of profanities peppered in with her name- her name- on his lips, his thrusts bruising and erratic and halting, still able to catch one of her legs as it begins to drop from his shoulder as his hips still. 

Chase hums low in his throat, staying put until the very last pulse of her clamping around him subsides- even after, he only rises to his haunches and ducks his head to kiss the inside of her knee. When his eyes drag from where they remain joined up to meet hers, she almost says it, again, swallowing the words before they escape, biting them down, and with a wince slides both legs back to the bed. Niamh looks away, only glancing back when his warmth pulls away from her- briefly- to curl by her side. 

In spite of her second close call, she smiles-fucked out and blissful, breathing evening out, and she allows herself this moment. To feel the burning of her thighs, the achy  emptiness between them she is left with, the sheets rustling as Chase props up on one elbow to brush unruly strands out of her face and admire his work. 

When their eyes meet, she smiles even wider, something simmering inside her- something that feels like unfettered joy- and she does something neither of them are expecting. 

She laughs. 

Like those words on the tip of her tongue, she tries to swallow it down, at first, but when it becomes too much and Chase arches a brow in question, she can only respond by giggling helplessly,trying to suppress the sound with a hand over her mouth. She can’t quell the shaking of her shoulders and she can’t gather her thoughts enough to get out more than one syllable before she’s breaking into another fit of giddy, bubbling laughter. 

It's too warm, and she’s so sore and sticky and that is all absolutely secondary to how her heart feels like someone’s stuck a handful of sparklers in it. 

“Guess we found the meaning of the phrase ‘fucked silly’.” 

Her loopy brain determines this is by far the funniest thing she’s ever heard, and she devolves once more, gasping for air periodically. To her surprise, Chase joins in -first an amused chuckle, and then with just the exchange of looks, he too is cackling madly, and in the reverie he pulls her back to him, scooping her in his arms. She now is blinking away tears, pliant but altogether unhelpful with her head tucked beneath his chin as he slides one arm under her knees, meaning to carry her from the bed. 

“C’mon you giggly little miting, let’s get cleaned up.” 

Niamh makes a sound of protest that may have been a whine if her voice weren’t used raw, and kisses a spot on the underside of his jaw.  “Just...one more minute. Please?” 

With no small amount of drama, he sighs. “I suppose best not to try and haul a nude and hysterical Hero of Haven off to the baths. Might not be quite the shining example of leadership you’d care to portray.” 

She lets out a soft chuckle, and tries to school her expression into something serious.

 “Might not,” Niamh affirms, pushing a wayward lock of his hair from his eyes. “For now.” She adds with an impish smile, and he grins back conspiratorially. 

She briefly tries to recall the last time she laughed like that. Full-bodied and loud and from a place she didn’t know was still there. Gratitude once again seeps into her, and she gives thanks by sealing her lips to his. Maybe soon this too will be snatched back, the feel of his smile on her mouth and his heart beating beneath her palm, but that hope- terrible, tricky hope makes her consider that the day may not come. If it does- maybe ruin is just what she is built for, and the ruin he brings her is the sweetest destruction she’s ever known. 

 When they break for air, Niamh pulls away, only to be guided back to him with his fingers gently curling around her chin. He kisses her again, with such unexpected tenderness it makes her heart ache. 

As they part, their gazes meet once more. A beat passes, and Chase arches his brow, a wicked smile spreading across his face. 

“So...again?”

___

Chase wakes with a start, for a moment not knowing where he is. Last night, he was with Niamh, they had a very long, very intense night, and after she fell asleep he went back to his room, and-

Cream colored linen sheets, not silky and wine red. The bookshelf on the wall is simple and unadorned, with a few treasured possessions from past travels. There are no baubles or jewels glimmering from every corner. Over a small writing desk his latest assignment hangs, prominently displayed alongside a map stained with khav and ink.

Light just begins to peek in through gauzy curtains, and he swears violently in his head. 

He slides out of bed, carefully avoiding looking at the little lump of blankets that was just curled around him and quickly gathers his scattered clothes and throws them on. Shit-

A slip up, that’s all it was. He was tired, he can admit that. He shut his eyes for just a moment, he couldn’t have been out for more than an hour, maybe two. Three, tops. 

He moves to the window while pulling on his boots, belt held between his teeth, deftly flicking open the latch and jumping onto the ledge. Chase grips the frame, preparing to leap, but does something monumentally stupid instead. 

He looks. 

Morning light illuminates her, and he is obliterated. 

Her tangle of rose gold hair halos her face-

That's not fucking fair.

 Niamh is on her belly, her arms encircling a pillow, flushed cheek squished against it. Kiss-bruised lips parted just slightly, and the sun dapples her bare shoulders in pure gold. She drools; there's a little crust of sleep in those pretty lashes-he smiles like a goddamn halfwit and he wants to crawl back and touch her, and kiss every bump of her spine, and listen to her read aloud from one of those old dog-eared folktale books or even from one of the massive boring ones and wants to say more things to make her laugh like that again and make lazy, messy, unhurried love to her and watch how the light makes her glow and he has to get the Hael out of there-

It's a sin not to stay, but he is fucking terrified of the consequences if he does, so he launches himself out and nearly snaps an ankle as he lands on the parapet below. Almost as jarring: he hasn’t stumbled like that in years. Never a misstep, a trip, a fall he didn’t intend.

 It was stupid, and it was dangerous.

He shouldn’t want it.

He’s not allowed to want it. 

It's nothing. 

#the alternate title was “Chase asks a seemingly innocuous question and then Immediately Regrets It” #I tried to string a cohesivelinear narration together this largely unedited monstrosity got away from me #shepherds of haven #chase x niamh #niamh valendil #chase trinaeste #i drop this and then SKEDADDLE #the spacing isnt working on the dashboard UGH but I simply must stop fretting and publish it #Happy Monday Here's some nasty #honestly its to the point im like 'this is garbage but not in the sexy way' because ive looked at it SO MUCH

[tact-and-impulse]

Second to last chapter and this is for the “touch” prompt, @shepherds-of-haven! I wanted to play with the idea of how the MC doesn’t fully remember what happened in half of Chapter Three.

zone

Nothing’s out of place in her old dorm rooms in Solhadur, including her desk drawers. Besides the memorable assignments and doodles, she blindly reaches into the back and pulls out an envelope. Her scrawl is in red ink, informing that it should only be opened when she returns to Capra. She vaguely remembers writing a list of things to do…

When she unseals it, she practically laughs out loud. She had obviously thought her magic would be at a high enough level, to accomplish such tasks as finding new creatures in the lake or teleporting in midair after jumping from the observatory. Well, she’s defeated three Faceless Lords. Not quite the same, but almost all of these remain impossible. Except for one of the middle lines.

-Read a book from the marble archive.

That had been a part of the library that was forbidden to the students. The texts were so fragile or of great historical importance, they were kept in their own section to prevent damage. She’s always been curious, and especially now. She feels like she dreamt about the library a couple nights ago, despite the fuzziness of what happened in the Phantom Shore.

She navigates the castle with an increasing sense of familiarity. If she blinks, the shadows shift and she’s a teenager again, passing by her classmates and teachers. There’s that alcove she used to sit in and sketch. The loose bricks in this hallway create a dissonant echo with each step. And before long, she’s among the expanse of bookshelves. The collection is much smaller than it was at the height of Solhadur’s grandeur, and cleared further with the impending evacuation. It still smells like parchment though; her heart lifts.

She walks casually and is focused on the path to her destination, when she spots Red. He’s standing with a volume in his hands, quietly turning the pages.

“So, are you keeping that or are you just looking?” She calls out.

He flinches, the book bouncing, but he maintains his hold. He chuckles and snaps it shut, striding to meet her. “I didn’t know if this is a copy we already have. We’re trying to consolidate, pack the best versions only. Anyway, did you need something?”

She relays her current objective and promises. “I’ll be super careful.”

“I trust you, but I’ll come along. You may need my help to get through the security measures.”

“Archmage privileges?” She grins.

He seems embarrassed, but he gives a sheepish shrug. “The position has its benefits.”

“Sure it does.” They head for the upper floor, and she asks. “Have you ever been inside before?”

“Only twice. Once with Archmage Tevanti, when he chose me to succeed him. The second time was right before all of you showed up; I was holed up in there for a day. I didn’t gather as much research as I hoped. Some of the tomes are illegible, considering how much they’ve faded over time.”

“Then, are we not saving any of the books?”

“I’m delaying until a day closer to our departure. I’d like to keep them protected, for as long as possible.”

“Good point.”

He pulls out a ring of keys, and to her delight, there’s actually a hidden entrance in one corner. With a twist and click, the final barrier to the archive is revealed. No intricate mechanism is visible on the inner door, but Red places one hand upon the reinforced marble surface. He extends the other to her, explaining. “You’ll have to touch the door too, so you’ll be allowed inside.”

“Gotcha.” She acquiesces and her senses are flooded with old magic. It probes at her, grasping at her intentions. Yes, she’s a trained Mage. No, she won’t steal anything. She’ll treat every page with respect.

The magic releases, and Red pushes the door. “Come on!” They hurry within, the marble sliding back into place after them.

She still has to catch her breath. “Oof, that was intense. I get I wouldn’t be able to enter if I failed, but what would happen if I do something bad in here?”

“I’m not sure. Probably, a nasty consequence. The Mages of yore didn’t play around.” He shakes off the lingering pressure. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine now. Oh…so, this is the marble archive.” Candlelight from the rest of the library has filtered through the paneled walls, lending a dim glow. It’s deathly silent, and there actually are more available books than she thought. Quite a few are locked in glass boxes, but the majority are shelved like any other. At the end of each bookcase, there are instructions for handling them and shallow trays of thin silk gloves. She glances at him and he smiles.

“Go ahead. Let me know if you find anything interesting.”

“I totally will!” She slips on a pair of gloves and happily starts browsing.

Hours might have passed, but gradually, her legs tire and her belly begins to gnaw on itself. She sets aside a thesis on conjuring a tree spirit, and tracks down Red. He’s cross-legged on the floor, pensively taking notes in a small journal of his own. His handsome face is deeply pensive. She blinks, and his younger profile is sitting at a window across the castle, as she looks out from her little alcove.

He notices her presence, his mouth quirking. “Sorry, I was cataloguing. What’s toward?”

“I think I’m at my limit, and it’s about dinnertime by now. Should we go to the dining hall?”

“It’s alright, you can leave first.”

She’s heard from Pan and Neon that he never cares for himself when he’s in a busy mood. She rolls her eyes. “No way. The first rule my clan taught me is that if we go anywhere together, we stay together. That’s how we Shepherds operate too, so you better get used to it.”

His smile widens. “Are you inviting me to join your group?”

“Oh, I don’t have any authority to do that.” She coyly says. “But we can talk about it with the others, if you want. Over dinner.”

He does cave and they return the books to their proper locations, pocketing the gloves afterward. Once they exit the chamber, the marble door seals shut.

“Well, neither of us are burnt to a crisp or turned to stone.” She jokes. “We must have done alright.”

He plays along. “By the skin of our teeth.”

“Seriously though. Thank you for letting me in the archive. I won’t forget it.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help fulfill your wish.” He’s as gallant as she remembered. Then, he takes her hand and lightly squeezes. His touch is pleasantly warm. “And thank you, for what you’ve done for the Circle and Capra. It means everything.”

“I was just doing what’s right. This place was my home too.” She can’t resist looking back one last time at the library. However, the dull pain is countered by Red’s solid presence and she instinctively draws closer to him. It’s the first time they’ve held hands, right? But it feels like second nature already.

Maybe, before they leave, she’ll make a new list. For the first line, she’ll write that she wants to be here again with him.

#shepherds of haven #stayed up late again but no more! #i'll post one more time after i wake up

[solasan]

shepherds of haven alpha spoilers under the cut soz babes

i thought nia just casually dropping her real name in conversation like a year into knowing the shepherds was funny but actually what’s even FUNNIER is red greeting her at solhadur with a cheerful “apollonia!” and both blade and chase looking around like who?????

chase lets the cat out of the bag as soon as he’s back in haven. riel refers to her exclusively as apollonia for like a week

#blade: so not only is this guy your ex-boyfriend he also knows more about you than i do because i didnt even know ur NAME. cool cool cool #ch: nia valendil #mollie talks ocs #mollie reads soh

[shepherds-of-haven]

How exactly did Red end up as the archmage of the Circle? Were there no other staff who were older/more experienced than him?

Good question! I can't remember in how much detail this was expounded upon in the game, but essentially, all Circles have always had trouble finding and retaining long-term faculty, instructors, and staff. In the old days before the Castigation, teaching positions at places like Solhadur were essentially like collegiate professorships at universities: you'd teach your classes, conduct office hours and head up research and projects, but you still had a home, life, and typically family outside of the school that you would return to once your day or week was over.

After the Castigation, of course, instructors don't really have this luxury: it's not as if you can risk being regularly seen making trips up to "the old abandoned castle" on the outskirts of town and then coming home to your house and family in Capra every night, exactly as if you... worked at the old abandoned castle that used to be a Mage academy, so instructors have to teach and live on the grounds under the same restrictions that the students have. Your whole life has to be about the Circle, by necessity, for everyone's safety. Except that students will eventually graduate after a few years and have the opportunity to leave and go their own ways in the world (if they want to); and teachers don't really get that luxury.

So if you try to source teachers from the outside, you already face a great deal of obstacles: you have to 1) find teachers who are experienced, advanced, and skilled enough at magic to teach it (hard enough when learning magic is outlawed by the Autarchy, so you're already dealing with a drastically-reduced pool of candidates), 2) someone who has the aptitude and demeanor suitable for teacher (further reducing the pool), 3) someone who has the willingness and capacity to devote their lives to the Circle and forego having a family, life, residence, or pursuits outside of it* (reducing the pool even further), and 4) to do all of this scouting, vetting, and recruiting in a way that doesn't result you both in getting caught by the Inquisitors or other authorities.

*There are exceptions to this, of course: nothing precludes the instructor from bringing their family to live with them at the Circle, but this also introduces new complications: what will your partner do for a living? What if your kids grow older and don't want that kind of life, or long to have friends outside of the Circle? Etc.

And then even if you manage to do all of this and hire an instructor, nothing guarantees that they'll want to teach forever. So your retention rate is pretty regular, with some teachers exiting after 5-10 years (and some even less), whether due to retirement or illness or seeking a new career or settling down and starting a family/lifestyle that isn't compatible with the Circle or having to go back home to take care of someone, or any number of reasons; but your hiring rate is drastically reduced.

(What about hiring internally, you ask, rather than finding instructors from outside the Circle? Well, consider your average high school or small college population. Of all the students you graduated with, how many of them would want to stick around after graduation to continue teaching? Let's say that number is higher than average because of the altered circumstances of the Autarchy: there aren't a lot of professions that allow young Mages to keep using their powers in a way they've now become accustomed to, so let's say interest in staying on as a staff member is far higher than the average student population. But of that number, who are also actually suited to be good teachers?)

Anyway, in the early days of Archmage Tevanti's tenure, he was actually pretty successful at scooping up a great number of faculty members who were interested in helping maintain the Circle: he was the son of the last Archmage of Solhadur and had that clout going for him, and he was very old when he died (around 200), so when he started his recruiting, it was actually in the early years directly after the Castigation. So there were still a number of pre-Castigation educated Mages willing and able to teach, and under his leadership, he garnered more over the years. But once he got older, active recruitment stagnated, partially because he already had his set faculty members and wasn't actively seeking new, fresh, younger blood; and also because the difficulty and danger of traveling on the roads seeking Mage instructors increased with the return of the Endarkened as well as heightened activity and zealotry from the Inquisitors, especially once Enik took charge. By the time Archmage Tevanti died, recruitment efforts had basically halted entirely, and it was left to "his" generation of teachers to keep things going. But over the years, many had already retired or died at the normal rate of decay, so where he may have started with, say, 40, in his twilight years there were 10. It was just bad luck that, because they were all of similar age to him, many of them also became ill, retired, or passed away around the same time as him, just before, or just after; so by the time it came to choosing a successor, the "senior" generation of faculty members were pretty much all gone or on the way out, and the middle generation were exiting for their own reasons (too dangerous, tired of teaching and quitting after a normal rate (say five years), wanting a career change or new pursuits, settling down and starting families, disheartened by his loss, etc.). So, to his thinking, you'd want someone younger, stronger, and sharper, someone who has a lot of years to give and isn't prone to noping out because of the demands of middle age or looming retirement, someone who could tackle this enormous task of being Archmage with the necessary fresh perspective and vigor of youth... which is why he chose someone like Red, and not the fifty-year-old Charms instructor who had indicated he would be retiring soon to spend more time with his granddaughter within a few years. It was just really, really bad luck that Red's stepping into the role coincided with anyone more senior than him (who could at least serve as an advisor or consultant or mentor) being eliminated/whittled down due to unfortunate circumstances and extremely bad timing: I think he mentions some professors were there to help him in the first years, but one was hit by a curse, one fell ill, and etc. It was probably on Archmage Tevanti to have recruited younger, fresher teachers sooner so Red would have a pre-established faculty before he took over, but again, a lot of circumstances prevented him from being as active in his recruitment as he should have (not even mentioning his long illness), and he really couldn't have predicted how things would go.

This is a long explanation, but hopefully that paints a better picture of how Red was essentially launched into a very stressful position without the guidance and direction Archmage Tevanti was expecting he would have, and why many of the teachers currently at the Circle are around the same age as him! However, after joining the Shepherds, there's obviously a lot more contact with Mages, so the faculty is more diverse in age and experience again and he can take a step back from his Archmage duties without feeling like it's all on him, as there's an actual support system for it all now! Hope that all makes sense!

#Shepherds of Haven #Circle #Solhadur #Red #Red Antiqua #worldbuilding #Veiled Circle

[shepherds-of-haven]

hi Lena, I hope you're having a lovely day! I have a lore question for you - how do mages know where the circles are for training? it occurred to me that I wasn't sure how my MC would've even known that Capra was an option lol, so I'm curious about what the common ways are that people learn that information? my apologies if this has been answered elsewhere or in the game itself djgfhdjf I can't remember

Hi there, good question! I can't remember if this was answered, either, lol, but generally, the knowledge of Circles is passed through word-of-mouth within Mage communities: Red's family, for example, found out about it because Neon and Pan's families knew and were planning on sending their sons there, and they knew because of a cousin went or the parents themselves went or so-and-so, and so they made oblique references about it to Red's parents until they felt safe enough to openly discuss it. Obviously this is very risky, and people will only discuss it with other Mages whom they trust, but very few Mages ever snitch on their own kind about Circles, so it's kind of an "open secret" among a lot of local, tight-knit Mage neighborhoods and communities. Instructors and teachers from Circles will also sometimes travel around, scouting out prospective students or apprentices or researching potential sites for future field trips, research sites, projects, school locations, etc., so they've been known to drop in and recruit/spread the word discreetly from time to time. I leave it open to your headcanon to decide how your MC found out about the Circle--could have been from eavesdropping, could have been from befriending a Mage, could have been from meeting a teacher on the road who pointed them towards Capra, could have been Archmage Tevanti himself: the possibilities are endless!

#Shepherds of Haven #worldbuilding #mages #mage #races #circle #solhadur

[shepherds-of-haven]

Out of curiosity, did Red work on a self-study to present in front of the committee in his last year in Solhadur? Or did he become Archmage despite not fullfilling this requirement and possibly had to make up for it later?

Red did not present a thesis project to the committee during his last year as a student at Solhadur; his intentions were to go off on his own for a while (probably a few years) and travel around and conduct his own research, and then if he got tired of it and wanted to come back to Solhadur to either continue as a Magister to use their resources or possibly teach (a remote possibility at the time for him), then he would have pulled together the results from his years of "independent study" and presented that as his dissertation/research project! However, he was called back to replace Archmage Tevanti before that, and because he inherited the position directly, he did not have to formally fulfill that requirement for taking over! Solhadur never took that aspect of things as seriously as other schools or Circles, and it was more of a voluntary pursuit for ambitious, high-achieving students rather than the hard requirement it might have been in the old days!

#Shepherds of Haven #Red #Red Antiqua #solhadur

[shepherds-of-haven]

What are the students (and the teachers) in Solhadur wearing for the classes, for the field trips and normally? Are there any exams in Solhadur at the end of each year or at the end of the mage education etc.?

Most of the time, students are just wearing their everyday clothes, which are often in the Mage style, but not always--it just depends on the student's specific style, heritage, culture, preference, and origins! So Ayla (wearing her Jalis clothes) would have been right at home among even Mages who were wearing Mage fashions from Capra, Stroud, etc. During school hours, it used to be mandatory (before the Castigation) for students to wear uniform robes that indicated what year (novitiate, novice, adept, etc.--like indicating whether you were a freshman or a senior) or even specialization they were a part of. This can still be done in most Circles, but is no longer required--probably only about half of the students do this, mostly because they're lazy and don't feel like picking out an individual outfit for the day. However, wearing these robes is strictly forbidden off of school grounds... given that Circles are supposed to be a grave secret, wearing your school uniform off-campus would be kind of a dead giveaway, lol. So for field trips, they tend to wear the most nondescript clothing they can and definitely don't wear any indication that they're from Solhadur! This goes for students and teachers alike!

Yup, there are exams at the end of every year and often at the end of every "term" (before winter and summer breaks). There is also a gamut of competency exams at the end of your education at Solhadur to test whether you can be trusted to venture out into the world and use your powers responsibly and capably, but these are often less intense than the class-based yearly exams and are viewed more as a formality; they're more like teacher evaluations where panels of instructors (often the ones who know you best) observe your performance across particular trials or performance-based tests, rather than a glut of knowledge-based written exams. These panels are the ones who decide whether you're worthy of receiving your graduation robes and earning your certification as a full-fledged Mage, or if you should stay on longer to address some weak points; so students who don't perform well under pressure can find this very nerve-wracking, but others find it less scary because it's not scrambling to write down answers to questions from your second-year Charms class and doesn't require much cramming and studying! Some Circles also have an additional requirement where you're expected to work on your own sort of self-study or research project in your last year and present your findings in front of the committee at the end of your education, sort of like a thesis project or dissertation; the idea behind this is that you're expected to contribute and give back some of the knowledge you've gained in order to further the progress of Magekind and the school, at least when it was instituted in the olden days. However, Solhadur doesn't require this to graduate from the Veiled Circle unless you'd like to stay on as some kind of magister (grad student) or if you want to apply towards becoming a member of the faculty (whether that be as an apprentice to an instructor, a research assistant or bookkeeper or librarian, or as an instructor yourself).

Hope that makes sense!

#Shepherds of Haven #Solhadur #mage #mages #races #worldbuilding

[shepherds-of-haven]

You sigh. You've been wondering if he's seemed a bit brooding and distant towards you, these last few days, … You have been busy helping Red orchestrate the move out of Solhadur, so maybe he's just been giving you space to get things organized?

❗️❗️❗️

asfdjhslkdf now i can’t get the image of Commander Sulk himself watching MC and ex-Red menacingly from a distance out of my head 😭

Stock illustration of MC and Red hanging out together and being normal:

But zoom in past them, and what do you see?...

A dark presence...

#Commander Sulk is great for him honestly #Shepherds of Haven #Blade #Blade Bronwyn #silly #spoilers #alpha build #alpha preview

[shepherds-of-haven]

hey sorry if this sounds dumb as hell but i think i saw you saying that Red can be our Ex? But i didn’t get to choose this option? sorry again…

Hi, Red can only be your ex if you’re a Circle-trained Mage who attended the Circle in Solhadur! Hope that helps!

#shepherds of haven #red #red antiqua #spoilers #mild #ex #faq #chapter 3

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 6

Big thanks to @emeraldgreaves for help with remembering some names/descriptions for this behemoth of a chapter for my  @shepherds-of-haven 20s AU. (9500 words. Have fun y’all I sure did) ---

The drive was, of course, uneventful. Wasn’t really long enough to be otherwise, though Xaeryn did peek a couple times for the car that tried to follow her on her first visit to the museum. They chatted about simple things; books they were reading, classes Red was teaching, one or two of Xaeryn’s past cases.

It was after she handed the car off to the valet and they’d been granted entry by the door staff that Xaeryn brought up one of her more mundane curiosities. 

“Liefred, I’ve been wondering...” she began as she found a good spot where she could watch arrivals without being obvious about it, waiting for his soft hum of acknowledgement. “With Pan being the one who drove into the city-”

“Yes, I know how to drive, Xaer,” Red laughed. “I just don’t have much need and so don’t own a car. I asked Pan to borrow his, but when he found out why I wanted it, he asked to come along to see you and Neon. Why?”

“Just curious. With your skill at translocating, but the inherent risks of that skill, I could see it going either way.” Xaeryn settled herself between a painting of the previous autarch and a display case containing a glided lance where she had a good view of the door.

“I’m probably a tad rusty at this point,” Red conceded with a wry smile. “The other reason I let Pan drive. But I do know the basics.”

“Good to know.” Her focus was caught by an arriving cluster of guests. Time to work.

“Someone catch your eye?” Red murmured, seeing where her gaze had gone.  “Or just getting a general match of faces and names?”

“The latter,” she said. “In case there’s anyone I need to talk to aside from the planned conversations, I won’t have to wander around like a fool looking for them.” 

“Always covering your bases,” he said with a soft, fond laugh.

“Makes me life easier down the road,” Xaeryn shrugged with a smile. Her attention was pulled from the entrance by a flurry of rose-petal pink.

“Miss Shrike, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Miss Acquell commented brightly as she approached. She winced briefly, then smiled, pushing her spectacles back up her nose. “I’m happy to, of course, but-”

“I knew what you meant,” Xaeryn broke in gently. “Whitestone Couriers were kind enough to secure my entry so I could continue my investigation.” She gave Red’s arm a light squeeze. “And this is my friend Liefred Antiqua. He’s Headmaster of Solhadur Academy, and gracious enough to accompany me on short notice. Liefred, Shery Acquell, museum curator.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Red said holding out one hand, “and you’re welcome to call me Red.”

“Oh, charmed as well,” Miss Acquell said, shaking his hand and dropping an abbreviated curtsy that bobbed both the frills on her rosy dress and the loose curls of hair. “And you can call me Shery.” She looked up at Xaeryn, bit her lip.  “Would... this investigating involve talking to guests?”

Xaeryn nodded. “There’s a couple. Ms. Aescar, for one, if she shows. But I promise to be discreet and courteous. The last thing I want, for my sake and the museum’s, is to cause a scene. I work better the less I stand out.”

“Good,” Miss Acquell sighed. “Thank you.” She looked a touch frazzled, Xaeryn noted, despite the evening having just begun.

“Everything alright, Shery?” she probed, watching for tells there was something the curator was leaving unsaid. 

“Oh, this sort of event is just... a lot for me,” Miss Acquell said with a bashful laugh. “But they’re good publicity for the museum, so I’ll manage,” she smiled, adjusting her spectacles again. “Even if my assistants seem to have vanished again...” She waved a hand when Xaeryn started to speak. “I’m sure they’ll turn up.  Like as not just helping new arrivals or something similar. It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” Red smiled, gestured at the room, “you’ve done an excellent job with the set up, I’m sure the evening will be wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Miss Acquell said, tension easing slightly from her shoulders at the warmth in his voice. Xaeryn smiled to herself at how easily he had that effect on people. “I have some things I need to check on, but Miss Shrike, good to see you and Red, good to meet you.” She was off in a whirl before either could reply.

Red nodded toward the door, where a lavender-haired socialite and a pair of full Hunters had just arrived, heading toward the main crowd of now-assembled gentry. “I believe it’s time to mingle, Miss Shrike, so it doesn’t raise brows when you start interrogating people.”

She fought for composure past the mirth in his eyes. “I will have informative conversations, Headmaster Antiqua,” she said loftily, fighting a smile. “Just because I’m not gifted to do it as smoothly as you doesn’t mean I’ll muff it entirely.”

“I know, I know,” Red assured her with a grin. “First rate snoop and bees’ knees when it comes to digging out what you need to know.” He held out his arm.  “Shall we mingle?”

“If we must,” Xaeryn sighed with only marginally exaggerated dismay, slipping her arm through his as they headed to strike up conversation.

---

The mingling went well. Having Red at her side helped polish some of the rough edges to Xaeryn’s conversational skills, and she found herself warming with only slight reluctance to the concept of small talk. When he finally broke off to go gape at an artefact that caught his eye--a gigantic sphere of green-patinaed metal--she let him go. She knew him well enough to know he’d been practically squirming with anticipation for at least ten minutes.

She turned her attention to a nearby pair of paintings. Her own artistic talents might lie more in the direction of sketching, but she did appreciate other mediums, and these were both gorgeous examples.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” The speaker proved to be the lavender-haired socialite she’d seen entering earlier. Faint auburn roots only just peered through in a couple places, making the hair color a choice rather than gift of nature. Interesting. Not many Norms chose to associate with something so common among Diminished. “I’ve always loved her use of color,” she continued, gesturing to the paintings.

Xaeryn nodded. “As do I. She makes it a point to use light and shadow to full effect and the results are..” she glanced at the left-hand portrait, a sunrise over Haven that made her chest ache it was so well done. “...breathtaking. Are these your contribution to the exhibit, then?”

“Oh, no, darling,” the woman laughed. “My support has been strictly financial.” She toyed with her silver edged fan and smiled. “I simply noted a fellow admirer of Mme. Laryia’s works and couldn’t resist a chat.”

“It is keen to find someone with similar interests at an event like this,” Xaeryn agreed. She studied the other portrait, a dazzling depiction of light through the trees over an Elven city. Vale, maybe? It looked like artistic vision rather than one specific location.

“It is, indeed.” The fan flipped open and closed. “I believe there are more of her works throughout the exhibit, as accent to other displays.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Xaeryn said, sensing their conversation nearing its end.

That was confirmed a moment later when a man with sky blue hair swept back in a low tail approached and offered the woman a champagne flute. “Sorry for the wait, people are chatty tonight.”

“It’s alright, Rhy,” she took it with a smile, “As you can see, I managed to occupy myself.” She smiled at Xaeryn and linked her arm through her escort’s. “It was nice chatting with you.”

“And you,” Xaeryn smiled back, not at all ruffled by the dismissal. Brief and polite was how she preferred her bull sessions.

Besides, taking in the portraits had moved her close enough to not draw attention if she chose to chat with Ms. Aescar, who was currently not engaged in conversation, and she didn’t want to pass up a chance at a one on one talk with the elusive heiress. Hers had been an easy entrance to mark, even from halfway across the room--she came alone, for starters, and her dress was far more sheer than anything Haven fashion would dare offer. She’d also arranged herself in one of the more distant edges of the hall where she could see anyone approach. An instinct no doubt born of coming from the Jalis desert and honed through years of traveling solo.

She saw the moment Ms. Aescar noted her approach, and was encouraged when she didn’t act to avoid an interaction, even if she looked less than thrilled it was occurring.

“And what do you want?” Ms. Aescar asked bluntly, folding wiry muscled arms over her chest as she arched a brow at Xaeryn. 

“Just a chat, Ms. Aes-”

“Ayla,” she interrupted. 

“Ayla, then,” Xaeryn corrected herself, silently lamenting the number of people on this case who insisted on informality. What did they have against etiquette?  “My name is Xaeryn Shrike, and I wanted to talk about your artefact in this exhibit.”  She gestured at the room.

“Yeah, haven’t seen it yet, d’they do a good job with the display?” Ms. Aescar asked.

“Actually,” Xaeryn began, remembering her call to the Aescar estate, how Marja had said Ms. Aescar might not even know Solimer’s Torch was missing. “It isn’t here. It was stolen after arriving in the city and I’ve been hired to find it.”

“Oh,” Ms. Aescar grunted, her brows twitching. “Ironic after how much that Syndran fella went on about their security measures.”

“Mr. Syndran is the one who hired me,” Xaeryn said. She’d seen him and Ms. Aerin across the room but not yet had a chance to chat. “He’s doing his utmost to ensure its retrieval.” 

“Thanks for that, I guess,” Ms. Aescar muttered, leaning back against the wall. “If it’s missin’, why do you wanna talk to me?”

“To see if any other attempts have been made,” Xaeryn explained, grateful for the distance from the main party for this chat. “Has anyone recently tried to buy it or steal it or anything like that?”

“I’ve had a few offers to buy it over the years,” Ms. Aescar said with a shrug.  “The whole ownership mess that keeps cropping up. There was a break-in attempt Marja told me about maybe a year ago? I wasn’t home at the time. But the bastards didn’t make it inside the estate, so we dunno what they were after.” 

“And were any of the purchase offers... serious?” Xaeryn probed. She glanced around the room, checking to see if their conversation was raising any eyebrows. Red was still making a slow, awestruck loop of the sphere, Mr. Syndran was chatting with Miss Acquell, but she didn’t see any ears pricked to her and Ms. Aescar.

“Couple weren’t overly keen when I turned ‘em down,” Ms. Aescar said with another shrug. “If that’s what you mean. None of ‘em were high enough to give serious consideration.” 

“Hmmm. Xaeryn bit her lip. “I have to confess I’m a bit confused, then, Ayla. Ms. Aerin mentioned you were... less concerned about security than many of their clientele. Why is that, if you find the Torch too valuable to sell?”

“Not so much ‘unconcerned’ as figuring they know how to do their damn job without me stickin’ my nose in.” Ms. Aescar snorted. “Figured wrong there. My parents had an attachment to that piece before they... passed, so I hold on to it for them. I like the thought of it seein’ the world, like I do, so I let museums play host for a while each. And worryin’ about it when it’s in supposedly capable hands would keep me from enjoyin’ my trips, so I don’t worry.”

“Must be nice to travel so much,” Xaeryn said, playing with one of her earrings as memories of her own travels stirred in her mind. “I was a bit of a wanderer myself until I had to settle down to pay the bills.”

“It’s a good life,” Ms. Aescar agreed readily. “Seen some amazing places. You ever make it to the Ivory Isles?”

“No, sadly, the ticket was a bit out of my price range, but I’ve seen Courtshore, which was lovely.” She glanced around again. “No escort tonight?”

“No need,” Ms. Aescar snorted, her eyes glinting. “I can take care of myself. And unless yours is invisible, you don’t appear to have any room to talk.”

“Not invisible, just a history buff,” Xaeryn laughed, pointing at Red. “This gala is like a candy store to him, the least I can let him do for coming with me is look around.”

“Candy store you’re allowed to touch.”

“Heh, true.” Xaeryn watched Red a moment longer. biting back a smile at his enthusiasm. “Just one more question-” She stumbled to a verbal halt when she found Ms. Aescar smirking at her. “What?”

“I’ll be you two make a real cute couple,” Ms. Aescar snarked.

“Oh, we’re not... together like that,” Xaeryn fumbled as her neck grew hot. “He’s a friend.”

“You’re goggling him the same way he’s gogglin’ that statue or whatever the fuck it’s supposed to be,” Ms. Aescar informed her. “He know you’re stuck on him?”

“Hopefully not,” Xaeryn said, trying valiantly to reclaim lost dignity. She hadn’t though she was nearly so obvious. “As I was saying, Ms. Aes-”

“Ayla.”

“Ayla, I just have one more question and then I’ll leave you alone. You wouldn’t happen to recall who made any of the purchase offers on Solimer’s Torch, would you?”

“There was a warlord from Jalis I shut down damn quick,” Ms. Aescar replied promptly, “Couple collectors, one or two mutis tryin’ to claim ownership made offers before they started raisin’ a ruckus ‘bout it actually being theirs.”

“Who?” Xaeryn asked, mentally crossing her fingers. Depending on passage of time, this might be something of a long shot.

“One of those fuckers fighting over the island in the south-”

“Elinden?” Xaeryn offered, mental fingers crossed even harder.

“Yeah, that one. I think the other’n is somewhere east? But they don’t have much of a claim and didn’t make much of an offer, so I didn’t have them figured for serious and didn’t hang on to the name. We done?”

“Yes. Thank you, very much, for the enlightening conversation, Ayla.”

“Yeah, sure, hope it helps you find my artefact.”

“I’m fairly positive it will,” Xaeryn said, and hurried for a corner where she could scribble out some notes. Standing as she’d been to chat up Ms. Aescar, there hadn’t been a way to take them as she talked.

“Industrious as always, I see,” Ms. Aerin commented, coming to a stop by the bench where Xaeryn had settled for her task. Between her heels and her posture, she almost seemed to loom, which was an... interesting reversal. 

“I am here to work,” Xaeryn pointed out. “Enjoying the party” --or at least its locale-- “is a bonus, but the job comes first.” She filled a page with shorthand notation before flipping the notepad closed.

“Did you fill the other one so fast?” Ms. Aerin asked.

She frowned. “Pardon?”

“Your notebook,” Ms. Aerin nodded to the red-bound pad as Xaeryn slipped it in her clutch. “It’s new. Did you really fill the other so quickly?”

Now Xaeryn’s brows arched toward her hairline. She knew the woman was sharp-eyed, but the brief glimpse still wouldn’t have been enough for most to notice.  “Impressive catch, and no, I didn’t fill it. My handbag was stolen.”

“The red is a bit more eye-catching a color than previous,” Ms. Aerin brushed off the praise with a furrowing brow. “And do you mean to tell me some... rapscallion out there now has all your notes?!”

“Only if he didn’t discard them as worthless,” Xaeryn said dryly. “Even if he could read my shorthand, I can’t imagine I have anything recorded that would interest a dip.”

“Ah, yes, your little trick to ensure no one but you reads your notes,” Ms. Aerin said, adjusting her bracelets. “I’m even more grateful for it now.”

“Well, me and Red,” Xaeryn reminded, with a vague wave toward where she’d seen him. “I’m surprised you would forget that, since it was of such concern to you that your trade secrets stay secrets.” 

“I have a lot on my plate, as you know, Detective Shrike,” Ms. Aerin said tartly. “I was swayed by your assurances our secrets would be safe. Should I have believed differently?”

“Not at all,” Xaeryn said. “None of them will escape as a result of this.”

“Glad to hear it, Detective.” Ms. Aerin flashed a distracted smile and glanced across the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on some things with Miss Acquell. And I’m certain you have more to do.”

“Of course. Good to see you, Ms. Aerin.”

“And you, Detective Shrike.”

They parted, and Xaeryn decided it would be wise to check back in with Red before she continued her mingling. He was, despite the length of her absence, still staring at the large sphere that had caught his eye.

“Must be quite a find to hold your interest for this long,” she teased, coming to stand next to him.

“This is a Worldwalker artefact, Ryn,” he replied, not looking away from his study of the etching that covered the surface. “I’d give my left arm and my tenure to have a month to study it.”

Xaeryn smiled, heart skipping a beat as she watched him him. Like a kid at Wintersun, she thought fondly. “You could talk to Shery, you know. And if the museum was amenable to it being studied, I doubt she would require so hefty a payment.”

“Just my left arm, then?” Red joked, though the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her made her wonder if he half-meant it. “Might be worth it.” He turned to face her fully. “Did you need me for something?”

“No,” Xaeryn shook her head, “just wanted to see how you were doing, maybe talk to someone I know and like for a minute.”

He chuckled. “I’ll happily fill some of your time, Xaer. How go the informative conversations?”

Her heart skipped again, trying not to think about Ms. Aescar’s comment.  “Very informative, actually. There have been parties interested in the torch, including the one you mentioned I should look into.”

“That is informative,” he agreed, offering her his arm. She slipped hers through without a second thought, and they started a turn around the room. Leisurely pace, looking at artefacts as they walked. “You have an awful lot pointing in the same direction, then.”

“I do, indeed.” She glanced over toward King Kaza of Elinden, currently engrossed in chatting with a politician she vaguely recognized--Jarreth, Jarket, something like that, his pink-haired companion standing close but her eyes clearly alight at the pageantry involved in a gala. “Now I just need a chance to talk to him. I feel like he wouldn’t take kindly to an interruption.”

“Suppose you’ll have to talk to me longer, then,” Red said with a wink as they slowed by a display case housing a beautiful, broken silver javelin. “If you think you can manage it.”

“I’ll find a way to muddle through,” Xaeryn laughed. As if you aren’t the only one here I really want to talk to. “Surrounded by this much history, I’m sure we can mange one of those hours-long talks we had in school.” Her brow furrowed when she read the display placard. “A hraqa?!”

Red’s brows arched and he studied the weapon with new intensity. “I didn’t think Hunters let those leave their side, let alone out of the Reach.”

“We don’t,” a gravelly, melodic voice said from nearby. “We were not given a choice in this instance.”

She looked up from the case, and then more to meet the gaze of the Hunter standing nearby, one of the pair she’d seen enter near the gala’s start, as if guarding the case. “How so?”

“This was taken as a prize of conquest during the Castigation,” the Hunter said grimly. “My family has spent generations trying to trace it, so it can be returned where it belongs. We finally learned of its inclusion in this... exhibit” --there was a barely noticeable trace of disdain on the word-- “with just enough time to attend and see what will be required to reclaim something that should never have left our care in the first place.” He caught himself with a faint grimace and inclined his head. “Forgive my manners. Sola Naolin Prince.” The words were paired with a shallow formal bow.

Xaeryn and Red introduced themselves in turn. “Are you planning to speak with the museum curator, then?”

Naolin gave a stiff nod. “And whomever else I need to; I understand this location is but one stop of many, so the decision may not rest entirely in her discretion.”

“You would be correct,” Xaeryn said. “Her authority only extends to which things are on display here and how. Though these are deeply personal weapons for you, aren’t they? You could petition for it to be removed from display while you speak with whoever claims ownership.”

In her periphery, she caught Red’s lips twitch toward a smile at her phrasing before he spoke. “I’d imagine it would be easier to repatriate than some things. Even with the... limited familiarity of Hunter customs, it’s known hraqa are sacred.” He frowned slightly. “I’m honestly surprised they would display it at all.”

“So I noticed,” Naolin said dryly, a touch of cynicism in his tone. “As you said, most don’t know much about our culture. I imagine a clever liar could spin a tale that would override any hesitance on the part of a curator. I do hope you’re correct that it will be a smooth process to reclaim, I shouldn’t be away from my duties as sola for long.” There was something in his silvery eyes that spoke to not letting that hope run too rampant, all the same. “Until I have opportunity to speak with someone, however, I intend to ensure this hraqa is afforded as close to its due respect as possible.”

“Admirable,” Xaeryn said, examining the hraqa again. There was an ancient, evocative beauty to its design. She could see how curators could be persuaded to display it. “Best of luck in your reclamation efforts, Sola Naolin. We won’t distract you any longer, but it was good chatting with you.”

“And you as well,” Naolin said with a formal half-bow.

Xaeryn and Red moved off, still arm in arm.

“You really think it’ll be that easy for him to get it back?” she asked idly, half-smiling as they passed the case with the necklace Thieves Guild had been planning to steal. 

“You don’t?” Red returned, shooting her a curious look.

“It might be less trouble than the mugs trying to claim the torch are having, just because there’s precedent for hraqas being culturally relevant and highly personal, bordering on religious, for Hunters. Arguing for its return to the Reach, to the people, won’t be hard. But if the person currently holding ownership finds a way to insist it be passed to an heir rather than the people as a whole if it’s so personal, they could muddy the waters and make it a good deal more difficult to untangle. Life’s not all berries, Liefred.”

“It’s not all rocks and hardship, either, Ryn,” he said with a fond smile that made her bite her lip. “I know the Hunters have kept themselves somewhat isolated since the Castigation and that makes them a bit more of a grey area than, say, Mages, but something like a hraqa has enough known significance they should be able to argue for the sol taking responsibility until the bloodline can be traced, if necessary.”

“Mm.” She did think he was being a trifle optimistic, but he also made a good point. “I’m sure that Shery would remove it from display, at least, if he asked. Spare having so intimate an aspect of their culture out there for the world to see.”

Red’s lips parted as if to say something, then he pressed them together and shook his head faintly. His attention was caught a moment later by a glass case displaying a trio of ancient tomes and their conversation was forgotten. “Is that what I think it is?!”

Xaeryn bit back a laugh as he tugged her along, grateful he remembered to walk instead of bolt over. “If you think it’s the collected work of Weyellan the Lifegiver, it appears the answer is yes.”

He flashed an almost sheepish smile as they slowed close to the case. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” she smiled. A glance across the room showed King Kaza finally done his conversation with the politician. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said, slipping her arm free, and couldn’t resist teasing a little. “Try not to leave nose prints on the glass.”

Red laughed and ran one hand through his hair. “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

She clicked her tongue quietly and used her fingers to fix the tousled state of his hair before leaving. It was hard to miss the twinkle in his eye, and she wondered if that was over her actions, or the case full of old books.

To work again. Xaeryn shook off the thoughts as she approached King Kaza. His posture bore out accounts she’d read alluding to his arrogance, and he surveyed the room with hard eyes even as he leaned over to murmur in his companion’s ear. There was a sharpness, a cunning in those eyes that warned her to tread carefully in this conversation.

She inclined her head respectfully as soon as her approach caught his eye.  “Would I have the honor of addressing King Kaza Akshin, the Lightning-Cutter?” she asked, softening her tone to rather more awed than she actually felt. 

He smirked, brows arched as he gave a magnanimous nod. “You would. It is gratifying to see my name has spread so far.”

“It has certainly done that,” Xaeryn said. “How are you finding the gala?”

King Kaza’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Far more frivolous and shallow than anything we would host in Elinden,” his companion nudged him and he shot her a stormy look before continuing, “but I can see why the glamor would attract a crowd such as this. Very fancy.”

“Some people enjoy fancy parties. Highness,” his companion interjected, grimacing a little as she hastened to include the honorific.

“And when did I say I did not?” the king returned with a hard-edged chuckle.  “Different as it may be, there is much to be enjoyed even here.” He gestured at the hall, sweeping to include exhibits and guests alike. “Such a display of wealth. So many potential alliances.”

“Is that why you’re here, then?” Xaeryn asked, toying with her necklace.  “Looking for allies? I understand there’s still... turmoil in Elinden, and this would be a good crowd in which to find support. Wealthy, as you said, and... willing to contribute to something they find worthwhile.”

King Kaza’s eyes gleamed. “Very astute, Miss...” He arched a brow as the words trailed off.

“Forgive me, Circe Blackwood,” Xaeryn introduced herself. Something about the man--his reputation, the hardness of his eyes--cautioned she keep some cards close. An ace up her sleeve, as it were. “I’m glad you see something of value in this crowd. They are, after all, the reason this gala is occurring; contributors and financiers of a truly valuable celebration of culture and history. Always a smart thing to remember where we came from.”

“And which of those would you be, Circe?” There was challenge under the curiosity in the pink-haired woman’s voice.

“Oh, neither, Miss...?” Xaeryn laughed lightly to disguise the searching once-over. 

“Stormbreaker,” King Kaza replied before she opened her mouth. “My escort. Bodyguard, you would say. And what do you mean, neither?”

“I find things.” It was, technically, not a lie. Xaeryn refrained from commenting on the irony of someone known as Lightning-Cutter having a bodyguard named Stormbreaker. “I’ve helped the museum and a few others here locating things they sought.” Slightly closer to a lie, as that contract wasn’t past tense yet. “Do you need help finding anything? I’m very good at my job.”

King Kaza chuckled mirthlessly. “The only things I have sought I have found.”

“Lucky for you,” Xaeryn said with a wry laugh. Had pride flickered in his eyes with the comment? She definitely caught a muscle twitch in Stormbreaker’s jaw. “You can enjoy the party, take in the sights” --she gestured to the cases-- “maybe make some friends that will come in handy.”

“What do you know of Elinden’s situation, Miss Blackwood?” the king asked with a keen look. “To comment friends coming in handy?” 

“Powerful friends always come in handy,” she deflected, bobbing her head toward the politician he’d been chatting with earlier. She toyed with her necklace and parsed through what she’d learned for an answer that wouldn’t make him antsy. “I know Elinden’s been in a... multi-faction civil war for a while, that you claimed the throne, and that at least one other faction vocally challenges you.”

“More like three,” Kaza said, holding up fingers to emphasize. “This is why I seek friends; if other nations will recognize my claim, perhaps that will silence the dissenters. And, if not, perhaps it will give me in-roads to places more accepting of my authority.”

“Wise to play the angles,” Xaeryn said with a nod, watching Stormbreaker’s hands flex at her sides. “I hope you’ll also have time for a look around. With so many rare and beautiful things under one roof, surely there’s something to dazzle and catch your eye.”

“I am intrigued by the artefacts from Jalis, true.” The king tipped his head toward that portion of the room. “Quite striking that a number of their designs bear similarity to those of my home.”

“Perhaps a common ancestor?” Xaeryn suggested.

“Perhaps,” King Kaza shrugged. “But I have taken enough of your time, Miss Blackwood.”

“Oh, I always enjoy talking to keen folks like yourself, highness,” she said with a laugh. A flicker of movement caught her eye; Red was done examining the books and was heading her way. “But I do see my partner looking for me, so I’ll leave you to it.” She nodded a semi-formal farewell and turned to head for Red. She hadn’t said anything about a possibility of false names and needed him in the know before anyone chatted him up.

“Good talk?” he asked as they drew near, slowing to offer her his arm.

“Positively enlightening,” Xaeryn said with a smile, slipping her arm through his and taking the opportunity to lean in close. “If he or his companion strike up a conversation, I’m Circe Blackwood, I find things, and you’re my partner.”

“Do I get to contribute to this backstory?” Red laughed, taking it in stride.

“Any way you like,” Xaeryn replied lightly. “In fact, I’m curious to see what your creative prowess can do.”

That got a chuckle. “I’ll see what I can come up with. For now, are we mingling more...?”

“Maybe a bit,” she said with a sigh. “But I’d rather just take in the exhibit. I haven’t seen as much of it as you with all the bumping gums.”

Red smiled. “Need a break from people?”

“That’s about the size of it,” she nodded ruefully. “At least from making them my focus.”

“Say no more.” He winked and steered her toward a section of displays garnering far less attention than the ones at the front of the large room.

“Do you even know what’s over here?” Xaeryn asked with a laugh.

“No, but I know it’s old and likely from far away, so I’m pretty sure we’ll find it at least a little interesting.”

“Point,” she grinned. The first case proved to be of more interest to her; journals of the first High Augar appointed post-Castigation, as well as a few preserved vestments. Red didn’t wander off, however, his arm comfortably looped through hers until they moved on to the next case. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?” Red shot her a curious look.

“You know...” Probably best not to mention his feelings toward the One-God’s church in the seat of that faith, surrounded by wealthy and powerful adherents. “Being available to help on such short notice. I know social events are something you enjoy, but I did ask very last minute.”

“And like I said, I always have time for you, Xaer,” he said with a boyish smile.  “Besides, the chance to see all these artefacts was too good to pass up.”

“Oh, of course,” Xaeryn laughed, warmth twisting in her chest at the sight of his dimple. “How silly of me to think Liefred Antiqua would ever skip the chance to be in a room full of historic relics.”

Red shrugged, smile turning wry. “Guilty as charged.” He cast an admiring look at the next case, slowing to take in the engraved script that decorated the warhammer it held. “Ryn, I wanted to ask-”

“Enjoying the gala, Miss Shrike?”

Xaeryn swiveled to face the interruption, forcing a polite smile. “Yes, but not enough to forget my snooping, Mr. Syndran, no worries.”

He glanced between her and Red and the corner of his mouth twitched. “I apologize for interrupting and do trust your methods, I merely wanted to check if your time has paid off this evening.”

“Very well,” she said, catching his almost vampiric grin at her glance toward King Kaza. “Definitely making progress. Didn’t Miss Aerin pass that along? I spoke to her earlier.”

“Aerin’s been... a bit distracted this evening. She handled most of the logistics to set this up and I think she keeps forgetting it’s out of her hands and into the museum’s.” He brushed something off the sleeve of his jacket. “As I’m sure your office would be a better place for a detailed discussion, shall I come by tomorrow morning? I’m very interested in a full accounting of what you learned tonight.”

“Nine o’clock should work for me,” Xaeryn said, making a rapid guesstimate how much sleep she’d need and when she’d get home tonight. 

“Excellent. I’ll see you then.” With a final sharp nod, Mr. Syndran took his leave.

“No introductions, Xaer?” Red whispered playfully.

She snorted a laugh. “A thousand pardons for trying to get the business conversation done as fast as I could. If you drop by my office while Mr. Syndran is there, I’m sure he’d love to meet my research assistant.” That earned her a laugh and she had to clear her throat to stave off the rising warmth in response.  “What... What were you about to ask?”

“Ah.” Something hesitant, almost bashful, crept across Red’s features before a warm smile returned. He gestured with his free hand toward the back end of the hall, and the glaringly open space she’d been trying to ignore all night because it made her pulse spike. “Do you... want to dance?”

Her better judgment, struggling to hold years of unspoken sentiment at bay, immediately insisted it was a bad idea. She would let slip something she shouldn’t, make things awkward, lose a friend. She’d been worried about the risk of this very scenario, remember?

She did remember. She’d also never managed to tell Red Antiqua no in her life and didn’t really want to start now. Not when he was looking at her like that; all boyish grin and twinkle in his eyes. She’d been right, she wasn’t strong enough. “Sure.”

The boyish grin widened, the twinkle looked almost like relief for a moment before returning to mischief. “Well, then...” he slipped his arm free of hers and offered his hand instead.

Sun above, she tried to keep her breathing steady as she slid hers into it, but the familiar, lightly callused warmth seemed to shoot straight up her arm to her chest, burning as it went.

Their timing was excellent; the musicians just transitioning between songs as they reached the edge of the dance floor, the singer humming along with the introductory notes before she reached the lyrics.  The new tune was something slower, just shy of mid-tempo, and Xaeryn was pleased at the prospect of of enjoying a more leisurely, platonic dance with her best friend.

“Has focusing on work helped make this more bearable?” Red asked as they joined the scattering of other couples for the new dance. “I know you’re usually not keen on this much socializing.”

She laughed, trying to ignore the strains of the lyrics starting, as they undermined attempts to think platonic thoughts.. ‘I must confess that I like you, but there is something amiss...’

 “It has, actually. All the fascinating artefacts and history, as well, though nothing so much as having a good friend along for emotional support.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s my good fortune I have one who could come, especially since he keeps turning heads and distracting people from what I’m up to.”

Red blushed at the teasing and shook his head. “You sure they aren’t looking at you, Ryn?” The dance brought them closer together and he smiled. “I know we made light of it earlier, but you do look lovely.” Nothing in the world existed outside the sincerity shining in his green eyes. “I’m sure some of the turning heads are for you.”

A small, breathless chuckle escaped her, face hot from more than the lights and dancing. “Thank you.  I likewise meant it when I said you look handsome.” She smiled.  “Much as the rumpled professor look suits you, I like this one, too.” Xaeryn toyed with the lapel of his jacket. “I haven’t seen you this dolled up since...”

“The graduation dance,” he finished when memory made the words trail off.

 ‘...I know some who are always on the go, but here’s what I like best...’ 

Before we left. After a few moments of following the steps without speaking, Xaeryn asked softly, “Why didn’t we keep in touch?”

Red sighed. “We meant to, didn’t we?” he said, just as softly. The music slowed, as did their movements to match. “I suppose it was a combination of neither having a travel itinerary beyond see the world, so we never knew where to send letters, and then everything with Tevanti...”

“Guess I was lost to the great wide somewhere by the time you got bolted to one place, wasn’t I?” she conceded wryly. A moment’s weighty hesitation and she confessed, more to his tie than him, “I almost stopped by Solhadur a few years ago.” Red’s hand twitched tighter around hers as she continued. “On my way to Haven, once I came to grips with needing to settle somewhere and earn a steady living.”

“Why.. Why didn’t you?” Red asked quietly.

Xaeryn lifted her gaze back to meet his. “Figured everyone was gone. I knew you wanted to travel, thought Pan and Neon and everyone would’ve found jobs and lives elsewhere. That’s how graduations go, isn’t it? Everyone splits to the four winds? In the end, wandering the ground and bumping gums with Tevanti wasn’t enough draw to pull me from my course.”

He chuckled. “Very you. Once you set your mind to something, there’s not much that can derail you.” 

She laughed, then tugged his arm to move them off the dance floor as they’d they’d slowed even beyond the tempo of the music and walking was probably better.   ‘...Fold me in your arms, it’s your affection I crave...’ 

 “It makes me a good detective,” she said lightly. “...If I’d known you were there, I would’ve come by.” No need to mention how much she’d missed him, but, “It would have been nice to reconnect earlier.”

“It would have,” Red agreed, then smiled warmly and squeezed her hand. “But we managed it anyway, and I’m happy with that.”

One-God, but it was warm in here. “Me, too,” Xaeryn smiled back. There was something in his smile that made her stomach do an extra flip, but even as she opened her mouth to say something undoubtedly foolish, a flash of pink and blue caught her eye and she was reminded--brutally--that she was here to work.

King Kaza’s bodyguard was heading for one of the side doors. Her stride and manner were casual enough, but there was a determination to her path obvious to a trained eye.

Xaeryn sighed. Two more minutes, couldn’t I have two more minutes?

“What?” Red frowned at her shift in demeanor.

“I see a lead I need to follow before I lose it.” She bit her lip in calculated thought, then tugged out her keys and shoved them into his hand. “Take my car back to the office.”

“What?! Wh-”

“If someone think my being here is hinky, me disappearing while you’re still around will confirm their suspicions, but if we’re both gone it just means we left. I’ve chatted up everyone I need to anyway, I shouldn’t be more than an hour behind you.”

“Xaer, I’m not leaving you a-”

“I can take care of myself, Liefred.” Stormbreaker was almost out of the room. Xaeryn curled Red’s fingers around the keys and caught his eye. “Trust me.”

He sighed but nodded and headed for the front door. Xaeryn waited long as she dared, then headed after Stormbreaker.

The museum was dark, of course, outside the area where the gala was being held, dimmed lights every half dozen feet the only illumination. Stormbreaker’s silhouette was easy to follow, the shadows deep enough to mask Xaeryn’s progress. The only potential difficulty was distance, some turns were close enough together she could lose the woman if she wasn’t careful. Xaeryn slipped off her necklace and headband as she went, tucking them in her handbag so the glint wouldn’t betray her. She was three or four turns into following with a long straight hallway ahead when voices to the side caught her attention.

She hesitated, torn between the risk of losing Stormbreaker and concern over a possible ambush. It only took half a second for the latter to win. She didn’t want to deal with an unknown element behind her; those rarely ended well.  The door concealing the muffled, sporadic chatter was slightly ahead to her left. With one last glance toward Stormbreaker’s progress, Xaeryn eased up to the door. It bore an employees only placard but the knob was unlocked when she tested. There was another beat of chatter, quiet but heated, that hinted whoever was in the room beyond was oblivious to her presence. She twisted the knob and pulled the door open in one smooth motion.

The two figures in the room--a lanky Norm and tiny Elf--jumped to their feet as if electrocuted by her entrance, then shuffled in a belated attempt to hide the playing cards splayed atop an upside down bucket.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the Norm blurted, crossing his arms defensively. 

Xaeryn arched a brow, letting her gaze drifted deliberately over their uniforms and the keys hanging at his belt. “Nor are you, currently, I suspect,” she returned coolly. “Aren’t you meant to helping with the gala? This is awful far removed.”

“Yeah, but it’s boring, and there isn’t much needs doing anyway,” the Elf muttered, sweeping auburn hair out of her eyes.

“Curator Acquell would beg to differ,” Xaeryn said, letting her tone go downright frosty. “Get back to work or I will tell someone who will make you care to do so.”

She withdrew and returned to her pursuit without waiting to see if they listened, but smirked when she heard the scuffle of footsteps headed back toward the main hall behind her. 

Stormbreaker was, of course, gone from view even with her minimizing the delay. Xaeryn muttered a mild oath under her breath and headed in the direction she’d last seen the woman, but there was neither hide nor hair to be found. She still spent some time checking different halls and rooms in dwindling hope of finding some trace before giving up. Something to follow up on another day. Resigned she’d done everything she could, Xaeryn headed back to the main hall, planning to exit properly out the front door. She waved farewell to Shery from across the room, gratified to see her assistants were helping her now, and headed out of the museum. 

She’d barely made it past the pool of light that bathed the front entrance when a shadow to her right moved.

Fortunately, Xaeryn was on edge enough from the evening’s events to dodge and block the attacker, shifting back until she reached a nearby street light.

“Oh, good instincts on ya, then,” the bruno sneered, light glinting off metal in one hand. “If only they’d told ya to leave well enough alone.”

He lunged at her again and Xaeryn let her handbag drop to catch his wrist. She  twisted the knife away from her and followed up with a punch to the face. The knife clattered to the sidewalk and the man growled something uncomplimentary as he swung at her in turn. 

She dodged the full strength of the blow, but it still grazed her cheek with enough force to smart and make her stumble. So she punched him again. Then pivoted to drive her other elbow into his sternum hard enough she heard something crack. He dropped with a wheeze. Xaeryn barely paused long enough to collect her handbag and his knife before heading swiftly toward her office, face and hand pounding in time with her heart.

The hand was obvious; red oozing from her knuckles after landing two such hefty blows. She tugged out a handkerchief as she walked and wrapped her bleeding knuckles. She had a first aid kit, in her apartment, she could treat it properly there. This would do for now. 

---

Her door had never been so welcome a sight, and Xaeryn let out a sigh of relief as she opened it.

Red sat slouched in one of the extra chairs by her bookshelf, bowtie undone and jacket off. His head came up as the door opened and he almost dropped the book he was reading when the state she was in registered. For half a second, Xaeryn thought he was going to vault the desk instead of circling it to reach her.

“Gods, Ryn, are you alright?!” he demanded, skirting the desk and reaching her in just a few long strides. He caught himself just before his hand grazed the bruise decorating her left cheek, and rested it on her shoulder instead.

“I’m fine,” she said, at the same moment his gaze dropped to the handkerchief wrapped around her hand, the white fabric a sharp contrast to her dark skin. “Mostly,” she amended with a weak smile. She pushed the door closed and set her clutch and the knife on the corner of the desk.

Red gave her a skeptical look, his other hand curling loosely around her wrist.  “Do you have...?”

“In the kitchen,” she nodded toward the half-open door.

“Come on.” Red gently tugged her that direction, firmness in his voice that made her smile widen. He nudged one of the chairs out with his foot and let go of her arm only after he was sure she was settled, then dragged the other chair closer, dropping into it as he turned over her injured hand. “Let me see.”

“It’s not that bad,” Xaeryn mumbled, even as she winced at the cloth tugging against half-dried blood.

Red arched a brow at her, looked down significantly at her bloodied knuckles, and swallowed hard before he spoke. “What happened?”

“Oh, someone apparently doesn’t want me finding Solimer’s torch,” she said, trying for a light tone, but clearly falling short from his expression.

“Xaeryn,” he said softly.

Amazing how he could fit a whole lecture--no, that was uncharitable, a speech--into just her name. Red had always been a worrier. It shouldn’t surprise her. She supposed it didn’t, really. (Felt nice to be worried about, though.)

“I handled it,” Xaeryn promised, fingers curling as his thumb brushed the heel of her hand. She cleared her throat. “First aid supplies are top left cabinet. The green tin.”

He nodded, still staring at her hand, then tore his gaze away and stood to retrieve the supplies. “Right...”

“At least I don’t have to worry about you being able to reach them,” she teased as she watched him. It did make him smile, even if it didn’t reach his eyes.

Red set the tin on the table, shoved his sleeves up past his elbows and started pulling out what he needed to treat her hand. They sat in silence as he cleaned off half-dried blood, swabbed the skinned knuckles with antiseptic, bandaged it up. It wasn’t until he was smoothing the final layer of bandages and tucking in the end that he spoke. “So, planning to tell me what happened?”

Xaeryn shifted in the chair, kicking off her shoes, but made no move to pull her hand free. “There was a, ah, tough waiting for me outside the museum. He tried to stab me, so I did the only thing that made sense.”

“Called for help?” Red drawled, shooting her a fondly scolding look.

“Punched him in the face.” She coughed delicately. “Twice.”

“Xaeryn.”

She gave him a gentle smile as she reminded, “I can take care of myself, Liefred.”

He ran his thumb over her bandaged knuckles. “How many times will I have to remind you you can call me Red?” he asked softly, not letting go of her hand.

Xaeryn had to swallow hard before she could speak, staring at her hand cradled in his. “At least one more,” she said just as softly, then looked up, immediately caught in his deep green eyes. She hadn’t realized how close they were sitting until now, knees practically touching. “Or I might do something dreadfully improper.” That I won’t regret in the slightest.

Red bit his lip, hesitated as he leaned the barest fraction closer. His thumb brushed over the pulse point in her wrist as he murmured, “Like what?”

She flicked an inadvertent glance at his lips before dragging her gaze back up to meet his once more. “You’re a smart man. I think you can guess.”

“I-”

The heavy, carefree footsteps only gave them a half second’s warning before knuckles rapped wood and the office door creaked. “Red? Xaer? Hope you two are back with the door hanging open...”

Xaeryn flinched at the sound of Pan’s voice, wondered if she imagined the irritation-adjacent flicker in Red’s eyes, and cleared her throat. “In here, Pan.” She turned her hand to give Red’s a light squeeze before slipping free.

“Sorry I’m ahead of schedule, Neon has an early shift tomor-” Pan cut himself off when he reached the doorway and caught sight of them. “Gods’ blood, Ryn, what happened?!”

“Someone objects to my current investigation,” she said dryly. “There was a scuffle. But I’m fine, and you should see the other guy.”

Red shot her a suspicious look. “You just said you punched him in the face.”

“I also elbowed him in the chest hard enough I heard something break. On him, not me,” she clarified when he started to open his mouth.

Red dropped his head into his hands with a loud sigh, then raked his fingers through his hair.

Xaeryn and Pan shared a look that was just shy of a snicker.

“Least he won’t be following you any time soon,” Pan drawled, then smirked looking at how close the two of them were sitting. “And so fortuitous you had someone to help patch you up.”

Xaeryn bit her lip hard. “It would have been much trickier to do this one-handed, yes,” she said, flexing the fingers of her bandaged hand and hoping exhaustion overwhelmed any other emotion in her voice. “I’m lucky to have Liefred around.”

Red shrugged, the faintest hint of pink climbing his neck. “It wasn’t that hard, Ryn. I’m happy I could help.”

Pan’s smirk widened and he gestured back over his shoulder with one hand.  “That knife on your desk come from the loser of your scuffle?”

Xaeryn nodded as she pushed to her feet. “Didn’t seem wise to leave a weapon nearby, even if he was in no shape to use it.”

Pan scoffed and moved out of the doorway so she could step back into the office, Red close enough behind her some might call it hovering. It was a long shot there would be anything helpful or identifying about the knife, but it couldn’t hurt to look. She hadn’t taken time to examine it yet, with the scuffle and the Red-patching-her-up moment.

She picked it up to do so now, and almost dropped it immediately in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” Red and Pan asked in unison, Red reaching out in support.

“This... is mine,” Xaeryn said slowly, trying to believe her goosebumps were from the coincidence and not his fingers brushing her elbow as she ran a more critical look over the dagger to confirm.

“How the hael is that possible?” Pan demanded, brow furrowed.

She winced in anticipation of Red’s reaction to the words. “My handbag got nicked a couple days ago-”

“Xaer-!”

She held up a hand to curtail Red’s outburst. “-and this is the dagger I carried in there for protection. We’ve been having a bit more trouble with dips and such spreading from Ashtown; I didn’t figure it was anything more than that. But now...” She scowled at the blade.

It was possible--but unlikely--the pickpocket who took her bag had dumped everything but the money and this thug found the knife and kept it. That, however, strained credulity for her.

“What else did you lose?” Red asked, leaning against her desk. He was doing a good job not fussing, she could see the strain of worry in his eyes.

“Little money, maybe a few incidentals.” She flashed a wry smile. “My notepad.”

His brows jumped toward his tousled hair. “You lost all your notes?!”

Xaeryn nodded. “I bought a new one, rewrote what I remember, but I know it’s not everything.”

He bit his lip in thought. “When we get back I can collect what I found for you, pass it along again?”

“I can’t ask-”

“You’re not, Ryn, I’m offering,” Red said firmly. He smiled and gave her elbow a light squeeze. “I only have one class tomorrow afternoon, and most of the books should still be close together. It would hardly be any trouble.”

She gave him a searching look, knowing he’d offer even if it was a lot of trouble. He met her look and held it steadily and she caved. “Liefred, you’re a lifesaver.” Again. I’m going to owe you so big. (But she wouldn’t. And she she knew it.)

Pan cleared his throat and they both jumped a little at the reminder he was still there. “On that note, I should probably get Mr. Lifesaver back to our hotel so we can get a good night’s sleep before heading home tomorrow.”

“Oh. Yes.” Xaeryn rubbed the back of her neck. “Wouldn’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.” She hesitated a moment, then, “You are planning to swing by before you leave, right?”

“Of course,” Red spoke up before Pan could, “we have to say proper goodbyes.”

Not to mention they had something to discuss.

“Of course,” Pan echoed, with just a hint of shit-eating grin as he clapped a hand to Red’s shoulder and started steering him toward the door. “G’night, Ryn. Glad you’re alright.”

She chuckled. “Me, too. Good night, Pan, good night, Liefred.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Night, Xaer.”

And then they were gone, and the full exhaustion of adrenaline letdown hit her in a rush. Xaeryn slumped against her desk and ran one hand down her face.  “God, what a night,” she mumbled, then almost laughed when she noticed Red had forgotten his tuxedo jacket, still draped over a chair.

He can get it tomorrow, she rationalized, too tired to chase them down the stairs.

Tonight had been... eventful was underselling it, and she just wanted to sleep. She couldn’t stop a smile as she changed into her pajamas, despite lingering soreness. Xaeryn looked down at her bandaged hand, and a swirl of wall-cracking uncertainty cut through her high spirits.

I almost kissed my best friend, she thought as she tumbled into bed. She known tonight would be a test, but she thought she was stronger than that.

It only made things more confusing that he’d seemed ready to kiss her back.

But it was closing in on midnight, and she had a meeting tomorrow, so Xaeryn pushed those thoughts away so she could sleep.

Or tried to.

----

(TRUST ME, no one is more irritated about Pan interrupting them than Pan. xD He and Neon have been trying to very subtly play matchmakers for over a decade, he very much wants to smack himself right now xD but he’s also gonna tease Red like, a lot. bc what’re friends for?)

Lavinet’s companion is my Rhyler, who’s romancing her whenever I have time to pick him back up again rip

The song playing while they dance is Hold Me by Art Hickman & his orchestra, one of those “cribbed from the MFMM episode credits” songs I’ve been hanging onto xD

I’ve been sitting on that patching-up scene for so long oh my GOD I’m glad it’s out there now

#queens fic #shoh #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #ryn/red

[shepherds-of-haven]

How long were mc and red in a relationship? Just some months? I'm wondering since seeing the magic curriculum at what school year did get together and what year did mc leave the school

It’s sort of up to the reader/implication, but I imagine it was 3-4 months before graduation, though you can go up to around 8 months before graduation if you want! 

It’s up to readers to decide MC’s age and when they left school; generally I maintain that Red stayed as a student up until Year 7 or 9--it kind of just depends on your MC’s age and timeline!

#Shepherds of Haven #Red #Red Antiqua #MC #ex #solhadur #anon

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hi Lena! Do you have any mental image or picture reference on how Solhadur castle looks like?

Hi anon! I'm not really picky about Solhadur too much in terms of visuals, but it may help you to click on the Capra location on the interactive map or check out the Blest pinterest board I made! Sadly, the latter probably doesn't make a lick of sense to anyone but me since I didn't label any of the pictures with their corresponding locations, but maybe it's helpful anyway?? Here are just some of the samples I pinned for Solhadur:

Sources (from the linked Pinterest board): 1 | 2 | 3

I hope that helps!

#Shepherds of Haven #Solhadur #references #reference #pinterest #map #visual #worldbuilding

[shepherds-of-haven]

how’s a typical day for the students at the circle?

6 AM - Wake up and start washing up/getting dressed/getting ready for the day (unless you want to sleep in). Typically bathrooms are communal in the dormitories unless you’re a seventh-year (a senior) or a Magister (similar to a grad student).

8 AM - Breakfast is served in the dining hall! Everyone sits at round tables with their friends while the teachers and staff sit at the head of the hall.

9 AM - Classes start.

The minimum a student can take is 4 classes a week, but most generally take 5 or 6. The first and second-year curriculum (curricula??) is mandatory and set, though you can take optional extracurricular classes (typically on weekends), and then the third-years and up can start choosing their classes as they figure out their own specializations.

A typical first-year’s classes look like:

Monday and Wednesday: 

Basic Legerdemain and Prestidigitation

Magical Theory 101

Tuesday and Thursday:

Basic Runes and Cryptomancy 

Mentalism and Charms

Friday (Optional):

Basic Abjuration and Warding

Magical History 101

Classes generally end at around 5 or 6 PM, unless you’re taking a course that needs to take place at night, such as Astronomy and Stellarism. Lunch is sort of free-floating as a buffet in the dining hall and isn’t at a set time, while dinner is always around sunset, typically directly after the end of most classes. 

Then you’re free for the rest of the day: typically students spend evenings studying or doing homework in their rooms, common rooms, the dining hall, or the libraries, but others take the time to pursue hobbies, including organizing plays or dueling each other in the courtyards. 

On weekends, if you’re not taking extra classes, most students take part in student organizations and clubs or pursue individual hobbies, research, or practice. Some go into Capra on small trips; others even work part-time in Capra to make money--though you need to be a fourth-year and up to leave Solhadur without teacher supervision, and applying for a job requires the permission of three teachers and the Archmage.

There is a winter break and summer break for students who want to spend time with their families for the holidays, but this is generally only permitted if 1) the Mage’s family comes to escort them home personally or 2) the student knows how to translocate or someone who can translocate them safely. It’s generally risky to leave campus in large groups, so as not to attract unwanted attention to the school and its activities. But there are no “terms” or semesters: you stay in your classes for the full year, from the end of summer to the beginning of the next summer.

At first, first-years tend to make friends with the people they’re paired up with in their mandatory classes or who they’re close to in their dorms. Later, once they start learning their specializations, they tend to be around the same people a lot, so it’s like meeting friends in the same major or degree.

I hope that answers your question!

#Shepherds of Haven #circle #solhadur #worldbuilding #circle-mage #anon