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Negrath. Tamping down the tingle of her spine, she offered a “Thank you.”

Those ungiving golden eyes peered back. He accepted with a slow nod.

Liv pulled Ruein toward the exit.

“Lightbringer,” Shegar called, “burying family can no longer be your father’s duty.”

They paused at the flap, and Liv looked over at Kaea.

Ruein responded, “It won’t be.”

I’ll not allow it.

While not eager to leave Nayr’s side, distance from Shegar seemed prudent to Ruein. Such righteousness combined with sheer power could only bode ill. If the Chapel Mount clergy gave her pause, the last scrutiny she’d want was that one’s.

Ruein handed off Whiskers’ bottomless bag to her sister. In Lord Tam’s rush homeward, it seemed he’d left behind this useful item. While Liv collected gear and provisions, Ruein said her farewells to Arim and Nayr. Unhappy their week’s end should be cut so short, they still took her word in stride.

Liv barded up her massive Clydesdale, Sage. Ruein’s svelte, graying warhorse, Loress, was already saddled and prepped.

Once fully geared in half-plate Lightbringer armor, Liv mounted and surveyed the horizon. The usual hazy sky had favored them this day with a vivid blue. Accordingly, she divined good fortune for a change.

How comforting…to have such faith. Ruein wasn’t about to share such confidence. She cued her horse onward.

Their ride passed in conversation, mostly on tales of Lightbringer Kaea’s excursions. How he’d untethered Shegar Negrath’s mind-prison, reclaimed the Vast lands, and reached an accord with the fey. Simply knowing the dragon could level mountains sufficed for most of that. By the time they’d crossed Vandraport, the afternoon sun brought with it the amber and wine-shaded foothills.

Typically, one does not require prying for a Lightbringer to speak truth, yet Ruein’s patient skirting of the topic failed to provoke the unsaid.

Blunt it was, then.

“So, what of Haraden? What did he share?”

Lips tight, Liv stared back. “Shegar cautioned. Said it was not a place for proselytizing.” Rising on her stirrups, she readjusted her seat and sat back. “Were you already aware of the place?”

“I’d heard of master craftsmen—something about Haraden steel—though I had yet to hear where it was.”

“According to Shegar, that’s by intent. Haraden does not wish to be known. They want to shut out the world. My father’s…dragon friend had made trade with them, blessed blades for the fey. Can you imagine, a gift of weapons as a want for peace?”

“No doubt, he’d reasons. What’s so special about this steel?”

“Word is, the smithies of the realm had mastered techniques in metal folding. They’re rumored to be nigh unbreakable. I gather that’s fairly important for sword-wielding types.” Liv gave a light pat on her family mace.

Ruein looked ahead to the two crossed branches tied at their peak, with another branch bridging to form an A. This was Aequen’s by design. Neither this marker nor the treeflet were noticeable from the road, save for those who knew.

Her eyes rolled. Of course, he’d never leave lanterns blazing in the dark.

With a squeeze of Loress’ flank, Ruein steered her horse off to the home path. “So, that’s it? No converts for the cleric?”

Liv gaped at Ruein, resting a hand on her own breastplate. “If any care to follow, who am I to deny them? But, no. That wasn’t all. He warned us to get the job done and not overstay our welcome. Cautioned against riling azers. Said they were…” Liv straightened, looking to the trunk of the treeflet. “…not of our…world.”

The beauty of the home was as always. Autumn leaves drifted on afternoon breezes. A gentle sway moved through the branches. However, nestled at the base of the oak lounged a muscular figure. His eyes were closed, tusked mouth slack, and legs crossed. The half-orc’s heaving breaths gently rocked the gnome in his lap. A faint, pitched nasally sound rattled out from the little one, hugging his staff.

Ceer and Twigs.

Liv fluttered doe eyes at Ruein. “Ah, how adorable. A Deepwater Castle painting left on your doorstep.”

They stopped their mounts. Ruein reflected on the night before. “I think you should wake them.”

“Me? This is your home.”

“Yes, but last night I exposed myself to them.”

Liv’s brow arched. “You exposed yourself?”

Ruein grimaced, devoid of mirth.

Wiping the wince from her face, Liv drew in a breath. “Oh, you mean you showed your dead-self. That was a damned fool thing.” She swung her leg over Sage and dropped to the ground.

“My frustrations got the better of me.” Ruein followed, dismounting between the two horses and taking Liv’s reins. She held the horses in place as Liv crept toward the tree’s base.

Lightbringer armor was a shuffle of padded plates over plates, anything but stealth. Yet, the two remained blissfully oblivious. Twigs continued to chirp out his pitched snores.

Liv crouched beside and looked them over.

She opened a palm and reared her hand above Ceer’s cheek. A blur locked Liv’s wrist mid-tap. The half-orc’s bulging arm sprang, his hand enveloping Liv’s gauntleted forearm.

The half-orc pivoted his head and slowly opened an eye. He snorted. “Pay up.”

Twigs leapt to his feet. The gnome rounded about, huffing. “I just…I just…” The gnome’s gaze drifted to Ruein. He blinked. His little jaw slacked. “…I guess, I just didn’t want to believe.”

Liv yanked on her seized hand. Ceer did not give. Staring her down, he uncrossed his legs and rose to stand over her. “Morning, Lightbringer.”

“Afternoon, Ceer.”

He beamed a big tusky smile then released his hold. Liv took a step back, massaging her wrist.

Behind her, Ruein made no action, merely holding Loress and Sage’s reins. There was no threat here. At least, so long as she kept her distance.

“What’s this ‘pay’ crack?” Liv asked Ceer.

“Ceer won.” Ceer opened a meaty palm.

His partner, Twigs, with eyes still locked upon Ruein, fished into a coin pouch and pulled out a silver. The coin looked like a medallion in his little hand. He slapped it into Ceer’s palm.

“Twigs say scary Rue was illusion. Being dead was show. Ceer say, this. This Rue illusion. We heard. She ex-pose self.” Ceer crossed arms and leaned. “Sleepy ruse

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