Brewer King 14 (Patreon)

Night had fallen and San carried a torch of Fire in the Night. Azios had fallen asleep; but the trail was simple to follow and it led to only one place. Exanarios Komai; settled after the Empire returned to take what they had once destroyed.

There was an abrupt transition between a wooded area and a wide open valley, the creek they had been following ran down the center, with a backdrop of mountains and tree studded hills. What looked to have once been a village sat upon a low hill, a cluster of single room buildings, half collapsed and ill maintained.

“Seen better villages built by beavers,” Pavano muttered.

“I’ve seem worse,” San replied. Memories of the Mage Chief’s keep flashed through his mind. The undisturbed snow reflected the moonlight, casting the world in stark whites and blacks.

“Wake up, boy,” Pavano nudged the boy.

Azios jerked awake and blinked blearily at the sight before him. He shivered as he looked around. “It’s night,” he said.

“Boy could be a ranger with his keen senses,” Pavano replied.

“The night’s full of horrors,” the boy said. “Never used to be, but the world has grown darker since my brother left and my cousins died.”

“World’s always dark, son.”

There was only one building that looked to be in any decent shape, a two story building made of wattle and daub, with a heavy thatched roof.

A sharp odor filled the air, a smell of copper and ozone. It reminded San of blood, but there was an off smell to it, a foulness that reminded him of the Flesh Horror. He gagged at the smell, covering his mouth and nose.

“Smells like death,” Pavano said, his hand tightening on his spear.

Rot and death. Azios had claimed his sister-in-law wasn’t dead nor was she rotting. Unless the boy had lied or was somehow blinded by fear to truly understand how his sister-in-law was doing. For all they knew, she could have been a week dead and the boy still believed her to be alive.

San shoved away the thought. There was a small girl and a pregnant woman that needed help. There were monsters in the world and the two would have made for easy prey.

“We going in?” Pavano asked.

San nodded and drew his sword. Something was wrong here. Azios words of ‘horrors in the night’ came back to him. Would every night hold some kind of unholy terror? Was this entire land so cursed that they couldn’t even go a single night without something rising up to kill them?

Pavano lit another torch and handed it to San. He cast Fire in the Night and raised it above his head. The smell grew sharper as he neared the house; the woollys brayed softly, their big eyes rolling in fear.

“Where is your sister-in-law?” San asked.

“Main room, bottom floor, near the firepit.” Azios looked frightened as the two men armed themselves. “Is it monsters?”

“Dunno,” San responded, he glanced to Pavano who shrugged in response.

Pavano used a torch to light the matchcord on two matchlock pistols, while handing Azios a loaded crossbow. The boy looked more terrified with a weapon in his hands.

San checked his revolver. Most of his ammunition was gone, he had carried a box of twenty cartridges with him on the hike. Overkill for what it would have taken to end his life, but he had always been an over-packer.

Eight cartridges remained, after the fight with the rippers, the shots fired at Wolfram and the Flesh Horror, and the battle against the Nox mercenaries. If he had the time and the resources, the casings could be reused to make more ammunition. Black powder used in the weapons in this place could replace the smokeless powder. He could find a smith or someone to make the bullets themselves out of lead or some metal. The difficult part was finding something to use as the primer.

Mary’s father enjoyed reloading ammunition, it was a hobby along with collecting guns, firing guns, and a lot of gun related activities. He had been one part gun enthusiast and one part doomsday prepper.

San shook his head, returning from the world of yesteryear and back to the present. The cold bit at him and the torch sent guttering light across the white snow. Pavano was ready, two pistols and two daggers at his waist. He handed San a buckler.

He almost chuckled at the tiny shield, but stopped himself. He had seen some of the Nox mercenaries and caravan guards using the shield with proficiency and skill. It didn’t look like much, but used correctly; it protected them.

The only problem was that San didn’t know how to use it properly. He wrapped his gloved hand around the handle and adjusted his grip on his torch, holding both was awkward, but doable.

“Lead the way,” Pavano said.

“Stay near that torch,” San told Azios. “Don’t let it go out.”

“Okay,” the boy gulped and looked about nervously.

“And don’t fucking shoot me with that crossbow too, boy,” Pavano said.

Azios frowned and looked down at the weapon. “I know how to shoot, old man,” he snapped back.

“Do you now?”

“My Pa taught me; and my brother too!” he said hotly. He held the crossbow correctly and glared at Pavano.

“Good,” Pavano said and grinned.

The fear had left the boy, replaced with indignation and pride. He sat in the cart, scanning the area illuminated by the torchlight and moon.

San gestured with his head and they moved toward the house. Behind them Azios began praying softly, calling upon Senta to keep Endaha and the babies safe.

The house loomed over them, a squat building with two stories and a pair of small bone windows on the top floor. Compared to the rest of the buildings within the village of Exanarios Komai, it was like a castle. The other houses were either collapsed in on themselves or long abandoned and poorly maintained. The only other building that San could see that seemed to be well kept was what looked like a barn.

“This smells like the Cursed City,” San said as they neared the house. “The Flesh Horror, it reeked of death and rot.”

“Many creatures that come to our world reek of that,” Pavano said, his voice was calm but San heard the edge of fear on it. “They try to take on forms to live in this world, but they are misshapen things, badly made and prone to falling apart. They rot and die, but the monstrous heart keeps going, taking people to feed it’s growth and renewal.”

“Why people?” San asked.

“Because we have souls, son. The void monstrosities seek soul flesh to rebuild their own horrid bodies. The younger, the better, some say.”

San shut his mouth with those words, hardening his resolve. The door loomed before them, made of thick wood and pitted iron hinges. It seemed out of place, even Orbaris’ stone house didn’t have a door that thick or well built.

Yet even the stoutest doors were useless if they were not locked and barred. San saw a small dark gap between the threshold and the wood of the door. He led with the sword, using the sharpened tip to push the door open wider. The creak that sounded was straight out of every horror movie San had watched in his life. The door yawned open to reveal an oppressive dark place beyond.

“Senta protect us,” Pavano was muttering. The old man was shaking slightly from fear.

San realized he wasn’t. That his hands were steady and his heart wasn’t thundering in his chest. He put the torch and buckler forward and stepped into the room.

The smell was a physical assault on his senses, he wanted to step back out of the room and run. It wasn’t as bad as the keep though, there San hadn’t run. He didn’t in this place either.

The room was small, sixteen feet by twenty four feet, with a ladder like staircase against the far wall and another doorway that lead into the back room of the building.

Like Orbaris’ home, the main room was the kitchen. A wooden table, and a firepit against one stone reinforced wall. The rest of the room was stacked with dried and preserved foodstuff; and a pile of blankets that should have held the pregnant woman. Instead the blankets were tossed about and what appeared to be drag marks led from the blankets toward the ladder stairs.

Pavano was muttering something under his breath as he entered the room behind San. He looked to the blankets and then the stairs, coming to the same conclusion San did.

“I’ll go up,” San whispered. San dug into his pocket and handed Pavano the lit flashlight. Pavano held it gingerly, looking at it with the same awe and wonder as he had when San used it the night the Nox attacked.

Taking a deep breath through clenched jaws, San ascended the stairs with the buckler and torch in the lead. The ascent was steep, but he made it up quickly, lowering the torch as the flames flickered toward the low ceiling.

The first thing he noticed was the warmth of the room, as if there had been a heater on that had raised the temperature. The bottom floor had been cold as an icebox, the firepit had long lost its fire and the main room had been deathly cold.

Yet as San ascended so did the temperature, soon he could feel sweat beading. Then the torchlight illuminated the room.

“Holy shit,” San muttered. The sheer alien-ness of the room shook something small and reptile within the back of his brain. It screamed for him to run, that danger was near.

“Oh, sweet Senta,” Pavano moaned as he followed San into the upper room. “Battomicona.”

San only looked at the man for explanation.

“Monsters from the void, they create nests, capture prey, and then breed and breed until they swarm entire cities,” Pavano said. He gulped loudly at stared around the room.

The keep that the Flesh Horror occupied had been covered in what looked like sludge and rotting meat, the room San stood within was similar but very different. There was a resin like composite that seemed to have been sprayed on the walls, it was thick and hard, but reflected the light and when San got near it, it produced heat.

The smell that came off of it was disgusting, the smell of blood, rot, and death. San walked further into the room and saw animals and other creatures half dead or fully dead encased in the resin. Among them were a small dark haired girl and a heavily pregnant woman.

San rushed forward, handing Pavano the torch. He gripped the resin like substance and it cracked under his strength. He tore at it and tossed it aside.

“Senta, boy. You do have levels,” the old man said.

The young girl was freed first, San pulled her from the wall and lay her down upon the somewhat cleared floor. He put his ear against her mouth and tried to hear her breath. He then pulled off his glove and checked her pulse. A panic was beginning to rise in him until he dug around in his pockets and pulled out a small compact mirror. He set it against the child’s nose and was relieved to see it fog as she breathed.

“She’s alive,” San said. He took the flashlight from Pavano’s hand and began checking the rest of her body. There was a puncture mark on her hand, twin holes that were nearly invisible from the resin residue still covering her. San only noticed it when he saw a greenish hint to the skin.

“Poison?”

“Battos only gather prey for their young,” Pavano said. “They do not kill them, instead let their spawn consume them while the blood still flows. It is a sleeping poison, it will wear off in a day, the battos reapply it to larger prey. I have talked to those who have cleaned out such nests, they tell stories of horrors they find in there.”

San pulled as much of the residue off the girl as he could. She wore a simple rough spun long tunic, with a wide woven belt. He saw no injuries or other marks on her body. San sat on his heels in relief. He looked to Pavano.

“Where are these monsters at?” he asked.

Pavano shrugged. “It is night, perhaps they are out hunting. The dawn will force them to return to their nest. This place.”

San nodded and began tearing away the resin off of the woman. She was a Tribal he realized, with her short cropped reddish hair and bronze skin, and very young. Her features sharp and uncreased by age.

She too was breathing shallow and slow, but there was an additional problem. She was burning with fever. San lay a hand on her head and hissed, she had to be over a hundred degrees. Without a thermometer, he couldn’t tell, but he knew the already sweltering heat of the room was doing her no favors.

There were two greenish punctures on her thigh, and a badly tied bandage around her left forearm. San looked at the injury and cringed at the sight beneath. The wound was infected, the skin reddened and puss crusted upon the ragged bitemark. He rewrapped the injury and looked to Pavano.

“We get the child out first. To safety.”

“The barn looks stout,” Pavano said.

San sheathed his sword and picked up the girl. She was terrifyingly light and delicate, like a wisp of air in his arms. He gingerly moved to the stairs and scampered down, Pavano following with the torch.

THWACK!

San ducked, cursing. A crossbow bolt had slammed into the threshold a foot from his face.

“What the fuck, kid!” San snarled.

Azios stared at him in horror, the realization of what he had done finally dawning.

“I’m-I’m…” he stuttered trying to apologize.

“Get your fool ass over here and help,” Pavano snapped as they exited the house.

The cold air was a blessing, but not for the child. She let out a soft groan and San could already feel her shivering from the below freezing temperature.

“Open that barn,” Pavano snarled.

Azios jumped from the cart, leaving the crossbow behind. He rushed to the distant barn, San and Pavano trailing. The barn was dark and reeked of animals. San noted the reflecting eyes of scores of this world’s sheep analogy. The anteater snouted creatures that huddled together in a pen on the far end of the barn. They chittered and let out a low noise that sounded as if someone were trying to start a chainsaw.

Pavano illuminated an area of stacked hay. San lay the small girl down on the cold ground and quickly pulled off his cloak and heavy Tribe coat. He wrapped the girl in both and looked around the barn. It was well built, solid, and not as deathly cold as the exterior.

“Why didn’t they come in here and make the nest?” San asked Pavano.

The old man shrugged. “The barn is well built, solid walls and doors.”

“My brother and I fixed it up before he was called for service,” Azios said. “We were to begin working on the rest of the houses in the summer.” The boy looked around. “Where is Endaha?”

“Battos, boy,” the old man said and Azios let out a whimper of fear.

“She’s dead?” he asked.

“No. We must hurry and bring her back,” San said. He got up and looked down at the boy. “Watch her, don’t open the door until you hear us.”

Azios nodded; San and Pavano rushed back to the house. The woollys brayed when they saw them, but remained where they had stopped. The air was freezing against San’s waterproof jacket, but the unnatural heat of the upper room soon banished that cold.

Endaha was harder to remove. She squirmed and moaned in pain, her late stage pregnancy forcing them to ease her down the stairs and carry her between them as they headed to the barn. The night was eerily quiet, the only noise coming from the chittering grazers and the occasional braying of the woollys.

“What are we going to do?” Azios asked. “We can’t leave this place. It has been in our family for a hundred years. My ancestors are buried here, we have dedicated it to Senta, if we abandon it we lose our komai status. We shall be landless beggars.” Azios shuddered as he sat beside the child.

San checked over Endaha, she was still too hot and sickly. Together with Pavano, they pulled the woollys into the barn, sealed it shut and began unpacking their supplies.  San used the last of his bandages and the last of his whiskey to clean out Endaha’s wound. He tossed the now empty bottle aside and used a headlamp from his pack to check over the wound. It was festering and he could smell the stink coming off of it. He used his can of water to continue cleaning it as best as he could, casting Sanitize upon the wound itself.

“You are a Mage?” Azios asked.

“Mage Killer,” Pavano responded, watching as San worked. The old man had said nothing about the items he had taken out, the headlamp, the bottle of whiskey, the cleaned rags, and then as San pulled out the two bottles of antibiotics. One was Amoxicillin and the other was Zithromax, Z-Pak.

From what he remembered from Mary’s lectures, Amoxicillin was a penicillin based antibiotic. It killed bacteria, while the Zithromax or azithromycin, was a macrolide bacteriostatic antibiotic, which prevented bacteria from reproducing. Both taken together would kill any infection, although San had never used one on a bonewing bite before.

Endaha was in no shape to drink or eat, but San crushed the pills and got it down her throat with warm water he heated on the camp stove. He set up the three man tent from his pack and with help from the others, placed her and her daughter into it.

The girl was beginning to respond to stimuli, moaning softly and calling for her mother weakly as they wrapped her in his sleeping bag. Azios sat in the tent with them, shivering as he wore San’s Tribe cloak. Endaha was wearing his coat and lay on his sleeping pad.

“You had this bloody tent all this time?” Pavano asked, annoyed. “We nearly froze our asses off last night.”

San only grunted, unpacking a mylar blanket and wrapping it around himself, along with the ratty cloak he had been wearing.

“Why did those batto come here?” San asked.

Pavano shrugged. “They usually aren’t active in the winter,” he said. “They also don’t usually set up a nest within less than a day.”

“A lot of things aren’t doing what they usually do,” San said, thinking back on his journey so far.

Pavano chuckled in agreement. “The world’s changing, monsters abound and good people are drawn into wars for greed and power.” He sighed, scratching at his beard.

How’d they get in?” San wondered.

“The wee one, door was opened. Can’t blame the child, she’s just a child. Death and blood tend to draw them also, they are carrion creatures when older. The young require fresh blood, but they’ll eat damn near anything when they’re older.”

San nodded. He was once again amazed at the monsters that roamed this world, that humanity had still managed to even settle much of it. Then again the monsters did provide Levels and with an army of Level men and women, they could take on most monsters.

“We’re gonna have to burn down that house,” Pavano said. “We can’t let them set up a nest, not this close to White Tower. By spring they’ll be thousands and they’ll be swarming all over the komais in this region. Batto nests need to be burned as soon as they are found, but this might just be an offshoot of the main nest.”

“A new queen?” San asked, wondering if they acted in the same manner as insects from Earth. A new queen would be sent out of the hive to start their own hive. Which would mean there was an older hive nearby…

Pavano grunted. “They have a Birthing Mother, she and her mates set up a nest and they begin breeding. I didn’t see any eggs in that nest, so they’re still in the gathering phase. Soon that bitch will be laying eggs and producing young by the hundreds.”

“How many mates does the queen have?”

Pavano shrugged. “Usually half a dozen or so.”

“How big are they?”

“About that wee girl’s size. They fly and can usually carry more than they themselves weigh.”

San nodded and looked down at his sword.

“We know they’re coming back,” he said. “I say we ambush them.”

Pavano groaned, but nodded.

****

San and Pavano sat in the upper room of the house, sweating heavily in the oppressive heat. San had tried to find where the heat was being generated, but all he could discern was that it came from the resinous deposits. Pavano’s explanation was simply ‘magic’ and San couldn’t entirely dismiss the explanation. There were few things on Earth that would generate nearly a hundred degrees of dry heat in the middle of winter without some kind of fuel source or biological reaction.

The smell, he realized, was not improved by all of the animals that had been stuck to the walls with the resin. They, like the girl and woman, were knocked out and completely bound. Although, more than a few had open wounds that had ended their lives.

The sheer amount of fresh game made San wonder how they were hunting so efficiently. How far did they travel? He hadn’t heard or seen anything flying as they approached the komai, ever since the Memory Thief had lulled them to sleep, he had been keeping a keener eye on their surroundings.

San pulled back the crossbow and set a bolt into the slot., while Pavano worked on the other weapons. They had four matchlock pistols, four crossbows, and two rifles between them; along with San’s broadsword, dagger, and revolver. Pavano had a sword, another buckler, and a pair of daggers. There was an additional set of swords, daggers, and clubs on the floor before them.

They also wore the cuirasses they had taken off the dead. Pavano had managed to take one off a larger man, therefore San wasn’t stuck with using one that was too small. It had been from an officer, Pavano claimed. Well crafted and without a scratch on it. The cause of death was a bullet to the face, from one of Markona’s men.

Just another aspect of the world, San tried to tell himself. Wearing a dead man’s armor while fighting a creature from a horror story.

“Why do you do this?” Pavano suddenly asked as they sat in darkness. San had the flashlight ready and his lighters.

“Pardon?”

“Why do this for these people you don’t know?” Pavano asked. “It’s been a question that’s been bothering me since we first met. You are willing and able to shrug off insults to your honor that would have driven a normal man to murder, you’ve thrown yourself into battle without a second thought, and now, now you’re helping this komai be rid of an infestation of battos.”

San looked down at his hands where he held a loaded crossbow. “I had more than a few thoughts before we fought the Nox, don’t you remember? The trappers, their words are meaningless. What is the insult of a man who you’ll never meet again worth? What does his opinion of you mean, when in all my remaining days I will never see him again?” San set the crossbow down. “I have seen monsters, actual terrifying soul consuming monsters. What is an asshole with a big mouth compared to that?”

Pavano snorted.

“It’s the same reason I’m here helping. There are monsters out there, if we had taken the boy to White Tower or if we hadn’t seen him; these people would be dead. I’m no hero, but I’m a man who can do something now. If I fail, then at least I tried.”

“Aye, and dragging old Pavo with you,” Pavano said.

“You needn’t be here,” San said.

“Aye. The world’s hard, San. Good men doing nothing only makes it that much harder. Hetvana has seen all my sins and Senta does not forgive so easily,” Pavano said, his gaze was distant. “The Twinned Sisters love mankind in their own way, but they will stand in judgement over us all when the day of our death arrives. Shall we be welcomed or shall we be tossed into the Void to become a horror?”

They sat in silence and San peered at the small window that he had seen from outside. Although the room was dark, he could see the brightening of the light outside of the farmhouse.

“It’s nearly dawn,” San said.

‘They’ll be here soon,” Pavano said, adjusting himself. As if on cue, there was a loud buzzing the filled the air. San’s ears ached at the noise and he tried working his jaw as it grew louder and louder.

“They’re coming,” Pavano said unnecessarily.

The two men crouched in the far end of the resin covered room. Sweat poured off of them; and not just from the heat of the room.

“Senta watch over us,” Pavano said and raised the first crossbow to his shoulder.

San did the same and peered into the darkness. His breathing was slow and steady, the strange calmness settled over him and he could almost see every grain in the wood that made up the roof beams.

The buzzing grew louder and louder. There was a thump as the door was thrown open and the buzzing filled the entire farmhouse. San wanted to shout from the noise, to try and equalize the pressure building in his ear. He felt his limbs shaking, his very bones vibrating from the buzzing.

San had an image of a giant bee or maybe even a wasp with some dragonfly in it, but what came up the stairs nearly made him drop the crossbow he held.

If the creature was a dog, it would have been on the heavy end of the medium dog scale. Over two feet at the shoulders, with disjointed legs that were covered in thick bristle hair. it was easily over four feet long; a thick compact body that twisted unnaturally with long leathery wings that hung from its back. San didn’t see a head at first, but like the Rippers that he had fought, its mouth parts were underneath the creature, with stalk like eyes jutting from the front of the creature and a long whiplike tail with two prongs curling from its backside.

“Fuck,” San whispered.

“Aye…”

The creature clamored ungainly up the stairs, in its arms it carried the unconscious body of a creature that looked like a rabbit. It was furry and long eared, but its snow white coat was covered in blood and it was the size of a large dog. The monstrosity used one leg to shove the rabbit against the wall and then a long proboscis like tube extended from its stomach mouth and began spraying liquid over it.

Another creature clattered up the stairs behind the first, dragging another animal, then a third. San saw that they were all the male drones, black in body and stocky in build. Pavano claimed the queens had blue coats and red wings.

The plan was simple; kill the queen. Without the queen, a new hive could not be established. Without a queen, the male drones would eventually just die.

That plan relied on the battos not noticing them, therefore they had layered some old furniture and carcasses around them. The blood and entrails of some animals had been also tossed about, hiding their smell.

The three males became five and they jostled against one another, scratching one another with their long legs and hissing spittle. It wasn’t long before the queen entered the room, she was larger than all the males and had a distinct royal blue coat. The leather red wings were more graceful, nearly the color of blood. She carried in her prize without difficulty even though it probably weighed more than San in all his armor and weapons.

Wolfram.

“Sweet Senta,” Pavano whispered. “They hunt horned wolves?”

San didn’t say anything. Instead he aimed his crossbow, the action copied by Pavano. “Don’t hurt the wolf,” San said and pulled the crossbow lever.

THWACK! THWACK!

The two bolts buried themselves into the flesh of the queen. She began immediately screaming, dropping Wolfram and then rearing back, her long legs trying to grab the heavy bolts. Red ichor pumped out and the screaming became frenzied.

San and Pavano grabbed for the second crossbows and fired again.

THWACK! THWACK!

Two more bolts slammed home within the queen. She gave a final shrill scream of agony before staggering back and clattering down the stairs.

Shock or confusion must have taken a hold of the males, as they all stood there, staring at where their queen had once been. They didn’t move, but a low clicking sounds began as they did not know what to do.

BOOM! BOOM!

The room filled with blackpowder smoke as the two rifles were fired. San cursed, forgetting how smokey the weapon were. The screech of two battos filled the air and then the creatures began moving. They skittered and their wings buzzed violently, swirling around the gun smoke.

San picked up the two pistols and joined Pavano as they put their backs to the wall. They held the guns ready as the battos rushed toward them, mere dark shapes in the room.

“Senta!” Pavano yelled firing at the first shape before him. It screamed and fell away. San followed suit, tracking a moving figure in the swirling smoke and then firing. He was rewarded with a screech, but the figure didn’t drop. It charged.

San cursed and saw the whiplike tail flash out from the smoke. The strike staggered him, but it had been aimed at his chest, the steel cuirass absorbing the strike and injuring the monster. San fired point blank at the battos body, the heavy lead ball tore a fist sized hole into the creature, dropping it immediately.

A batto dropped from the ceiling, a dark shape in the shadows. San used the matchlock in his hands to strike it. The creatures weight was enough to absorb the strike, but it missed him as it tried to slash at him with its claws. San pulled out his sword and attacked, hacking off a leg and then the tail as it whipped at him. Red ichor sprayed onto the floor and San nearly slipped.

Pavano had been pulled down and a batto stood over him, its teeth gnashing. San turned and brought down the sword. It cut through leather wings and the thick bristle coat. A large gash was opened in its side and the creature collapsed as it screamed in pain. Pavano rolled away, pulling his daggers and slashing out at another figure.

San finished off the batto and turned to face the one that had dropped on him. It was gone. He turned back and stabbed his sword into the batto Pavano was fighting. It screeched and squirmed but he pinned it to the wall and Pavano yelled obscenities as he slashed at it.

He felt movement and San jumped back, a clawed limb slashing down where he had stood. San pulled his dagger from his belt and charged into the smoke. He collided with the limping batto and with his weight and speed, knocked it into the wall. The batto wailed and San began stabbing down, plunging the blade until the monster was a mass of leaking redness.

“Fuck!” San cried, collapsing backwards onto the floor. The air was thick with gun smoke, the fetid ichor of the battos, and the rotting animals.

“We got them all,” Pavano panted. He sat against the wall, drenched in sweat and blood.

“You okay?”

“A bit bruised. You?”

“Good,” San said. He got to his feet, groaning as strained muscles protested. The air was beginning clear.

“Sweet Senta!” Pavano cried. San followed his gaze and saw Wolfram unsteadily rising to her feet.

“Don’t worry,” San said. “She’s a friend.”

/AN- was planning on posting on Saturday, but travel weariness got to me.  Now's a good day as any. Hope you enjoyed it.  regularly scheduled stuff will resume Monday. Hope you all had a good holiday.