Cheep!? 41 (Patreon)

As Charles entered the city proper, much of his annoyance at the debacle had been replaced by a small sense of wonder. He expected to see older style buildings, compared to his modern sensibilities, and he expected the paved stone beneath his feet. The cobblestone road was built with wagons in mind, but there was an attention to detail here in the uniform stone that Charles imagined was more in favor of those walking. People dressed in leathers and sturdy clothes in some parts, but much softer and airier fabrics also, and Charles’ eyes caught on several gorgeous shades of blue, magenta, and wine.

What was truly responsible for the awe he felt, though, had nothing to do with the mundane senses he’d had as a human. The city had a scent to it, an ambience that whispered into the wind of a thousand different things, each lending a hand in greeting, it seemed, to the Phorus that had just walked through the gates. The fouler scents were nearly nonexistent, the common filth that he’d feared he would know all too well instead a benign scent relegated to a mere distant undertone of an undertone. Whatever technology level these people had, waste management was at least one of them. Charles counted his feathers lucky for that turn of events.

For several paces his gait was slow, the Greenhorns’ eyes stole glances at him as he absorbed the impact of the city. They were nervous for his reaction, and well they should. If he were an ordinary beast, he would have immediately bee-lined it for the nearest potent scent. Flowers he’d never smelled, sweet and mellow, graced the wind one instant to be replaced by a delicious barbeque scent from what he suspected might be pork, or the equivalent of it. There weren’t a large number of people just past the entry gate, but enough stopped and gawked at him that Charles had no issue doing the same to them.

Workman's clothes were common, rougher and sturdy, but by no means low quality craft. Charles’ eyes were searching, approvingly, through the city, finding a lack of debris and filth. Certainly, there were parts where it was dirty– no city with a workforce or population would fully escape that– but the Phorus was pleased as a preened pheasant that it was this good.

“Well, would ya look at that,” a voice called out to the group, “The Guildmaster said to be on the lookout, but I didn’t think you’d actually have succeeded.”

Charles reigned in his wonderment and glared at the newcomer, ‘What’s this, now?’

The man who approached them had short cut, curly brown hair, and from the sense of him was of a higher essence tier than Charles was. Charles guessed that he himself was no more than essence tier two, now that he knew the dismal amount he did about how things worked. As he studied him, Charles’ glare magnified.

“Yes. We did,” Skye, stepping forward, said, “I wasn’t aware that we were to expect a welcome.”

The Greenhorns were clearly defensive, but not physically. No posturing was taking place, even as the man asked, “It doesn’t. Usually. But the Guildmaster needs to meet you all somewhere else. If you’d kindly follow me?”

“Not to the guild hall?” Reese stepped up, too, her iconography as a paladin on full display, “Forgive me if I’m skeptical, Mr.?”

“Call me Oum,” the man nodded to her, posture still relaxed, “There’s been some complications to the situation. We’d be best suited to get off of the street before more people notice. Though…” He smirked knowingly at the Phorus in their midst, “I guess you’ll be the talk of the town in no time anyways.”

Ronald took a wordless, meaning filled look at his team before nodding, “Lead the way, then, Oum. We’ll be glad to get some food in us.”

The man nodded, “He’ll have something ready, I’m sure. Try to keep up the pace a bit, though, we’ve already had some issues.”

Charles began moving in step with the rest of the team, but never let his eyes move from the man’s back. If he was unnerving their guide, he didn’t know, nor did he care, because Charles could smell the slightest mote of blood from the individual. He moved with a poise that passively set him on edge, and he wasn’t the only one that felt it. Charles could see it in the way Skye and Dachna’s hands hovered closer to their respective weapons and how they closed in around Mithel and Eustace, pointedly guarding them.

‘Alright, let's go over some possible scenarios,’ Charles’ mind raced, ‘This is a trap for one reason or another, most likely for Eustace, since Oum seemed genuinely surprised to see me with the group. I’m unexpected, possibly, though the reaction might be fake, can’t be positive. Was he the one I smelled outside the gates? I can’t tell with all of this smell in the air. I’m not used to it at all.’ Charles warbled in annoyance as they moved away from the main road and into more claustrophobic alleyways. Cobblestone was still underfoot, but a layer of dirt and mud gradually overtook the cleaner main paths.

“Easy does it, Niko,” Skye whispered soothingly, “Let’s just let this play out and see what happens, okay? Don’t panic.”

Charles shot a reproving look at her, but realized she looked genuinely concerned. ‘Hmm? I’m doing fi–oh, what the peck?’

He realized his feathers had fluffed up again, but this time had taken on the slight essence infusion and made them hard. They were sharp at the edges like this, and Charles realized with a pang of guilt that the others had to squeeze further away from him to the walls. Charles breathed out slowly and began to distract himself, starting with giving a quick chirp at Skye.

She nodded, and then immediately went back to focusing on her surroundings. That was good, Charles was glad to see that he wasn’t the only one wary of things.

They continued onwards, just fast enough for the walk to be uncomfortable for the others, but Charles was hardly bothered by that fact. What did bother him was the fact that he’d lost track of where they were. They crossed wider streets four times, but Charles could almost swear that they’d backtracked at least twice, albeit from one street down. Just when he was starting to get comfortable with that pace, the man picked it up again with a quick, “Little faster, now!”

It took nearly an hour before they were finally through the labyrinthine path that the man had taken them on. Charles knew he wasn’t the only one fuming dangerously at the movements either.

Just as Ronald was moving forward more, face red from exertion and annoyance, Oum finally turned around as he came to a stop in front of a relatively nondescript building.

“Here we are! Sorry for the cloak and dagger stuff, but you had three people following you and my people needed time to deal with them.” The man pulled his badge off as he spoke and walked to the door. He talked loudly over his shoulder, “Orson’s inside and waiting for you all, as well as a mutual acquaintance.”

“Wa-” Mithel shook her head, “No, hold on, this is bullshit. What the shit is happening? Who was following us? And why?”

The man’s nonchalant attitude waned, replaced by a stern countenance, “Hey, hey, you all are the ones who decided to step right in the wyrm’s mouth, so cool your heels. You were being followed, probably because of the you-know-what that happened out there. Guildmaster Maul will debrief you on all that–” he immediately held a hand up as Mithel was about to continue on, “--seriously, do not say anything about this stuff out here. Go inside, talk with him. Nothing out here. I mean it.”

He met the gazes of the Greenhorns and held them for several seconds, before nodding in satisfaction, “Alright. Thanks for that. I really don’t like operating like this, but it’s honestly better this way. The door’s not rigged anymore, so you can go inside.”

Mithel blanched at that, but then the man seemed to somehow simply step backwards into the wall next to the door and vanish.

“What the pluck was that!?”

“What the hells was that?”

Bird noises and Dachna’s complaints overlapped, and the two looked at each other before looking back at the wall, then back to each other.

Charles let out a confused squawk, and the man shrugged back, “I don’t know, I just work here.”

He let out an amused trill in spite of himself, before he refocused on the fact that he was actively avoiding.

‘This is…  more complicated. A lot more complicated than I expected to deal with. But, luckily,’ Charles’ gaze was moving over his new ‘handlers’ with great glee, ‘They’re the ones that have to deal with it! Not me! I’m just a bird! Hah, suckers!’

The Greenhorns, oblivious to the fact that Charles had just divorced himself of any responsibilities, only grimly moved to the door and pushed it open, as though it hadn’t been closed at all.

Charles had certain hopes, or fears, when they moved into the building, but what he hadn’t been expecting from the simple brickwork facade outside and the seemingly out-of-favor feel the building gave off, was the fact that the inside of the building was, simply put, opulent. Charles’ talons clacked loudly on the tiled floor, but his eyes were lifted to the wall sconces, burning with fire but not smelling like fire. It didn’t smell like much of anything at all actually, though he could tell essence was moving into and out of them. On a brief tangent, he noted that the atmospheric concentration of essence in this building was much higher than it was outside. So high, in fact, that it surpassed what he’d had in the forest.

‘Okay, that’s interesting. Some sort of collecting and condensing effect for the atmospheric essence? A siphon of some sort, perhaps?’ Charles threw out wild guesses, letting himself imagine reasons for why certain things were the way they were, simply so he could stop thinking about them and move on to more important details.

The most important of which set his nose on full alert.

Charles pushed forward through the group, and the steward–or whomever it was that had come to greet them–had to stand aside rapidly to get out of his way.

“Niko! Niko wait a–damnit!” Skye shouted and scrambled past the man, “Sorry, sorry, he’s just new!”

Nonplussed the servant turned and walked with a healthy speed to catch up with Skye, “Miss, it’s quite alright. I suspect I know where he’s going, he’ll be fine.”

Charles heard that, but mentally commented, ‘Of course I’m going to be fine. Be worried about anyone in the way.’

At that thought, the Greenhorns all cringed as they heard the sound of a door being kicked in by a two and a half meter tall killer bird and the accompanying surge of essence that roiled through the air.

The servant cleared his throat, “Mmm, I thought I left that one open. My mistake.”

—--------------------------------

Skye gaped at the man, confusion at the situation mounting with every oddity they faced.

“You know where he’s going then?” Reese spoke, seizing hold of the situation, “I apologize for the lack of decorum, but can you take us to follow him.”

The man didn’t so much as blink before he said, “Of course, follow me, if you please.”

He smartly turned on his heel and started walking, and Skye wasn’t the only one who felt completely left behind by this turn of events. She pushed forward though, only behind Reese who seemed almost oddly used to things like this.

“This is a… really nice place,” Dachna sounded uncomfortable, “The uhh… insanely expensive chandelier is… great.” He squeaked out the last word, and Skye glanced over to see him sweating a bit.

Skye remembered he said he had a problem with rich people, but he hadn’t said what he meant exactly. Whatever it was, Dachna was clearly not at ease, it was a look that didn’t fit him. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to pretend to be calm and relaxed.

Still, if the steward noticed this, he didn’t comment on it, instead saying, “Quite, the master of the house has a taste for certain luxuries. Shall I pass on your admirations?”

Dachna looked like he’d been stabbed, “Nope! Definitely not, it’s fine!”

“Very good, then, Sir.” Cool and accommodating, the steward’s steps didn’t slow as they continued down a large hallway, able to fit five people standing side by side with room to spare. Warm light brown and dark brown patterned tiles accented a slightly reddish wood wall panel that went halfway up the walls on either side of them. The wood work was clean, lacquered, and predominantly made up of reductive carving in the form of straight trees that were made to look like pillars. Each cut was shallow, three centimeters deep at the most, but the effect given was impressive. Doorways interrupted the flow occasionally, and while Skye half expected these to be over-decorated as well, she was surprised to instead find simple, but still clearly very well made, designs in the form of swooping lines. Each had a designation at the top, either a carved letter and number, or overt declaration of what they were.

Skye only saw one of the latter, declaring the room as ‘Larder B’ and not much else.

A loud clattering noise and a brief but sharp series of loud and alarmed sounding squawks broke Skye’s limited attention to the wealth around her. Before she’d realized it, Skye was already running forward past the group, letting the rooms whip past her. She thought she heard footsteps in her wake, but with how wound her anxiety was and how hard her heart was pounding, she barely registered it.

When another loud noise, a shrill and long cry echoed out through the halls from a pair of large double doors that were opened, Skye felt her heart leap up into her throat. Fearing for the worst, Skye bolted into the open room and–

–stopped as she took in a room with what looked to be a tree growing inside of it. It was healthy, vibrant green leaves rustling without a breeze– ‘No, wait, there’s a breeze in this room.’

With a look around, Skye noticed that there were shallow grated holes near the top of the room, blowing fresh air inside, she guessed. The sound of trickling water tore her attention to the far wall where a spigot kept a minimum of water flowing through an indoor river that curled around the backside of the tree and into a small pond. A bewildered Skye took several steps into the room before she noticed the floor around the tree for ten meters in every direction was dirt, grass, and other plants. Some of those plants were herbs, one she noted in particular was a type that her former druidic teacher had told her calmed animals and certain types of beasts. Larger rocks sat embedded on the edge of the pond, and with a start Skye noticed the man sitting atop one of them.

Dane had a wide smile on his face, though, and when Skye followed his line of sight, she realized at once that she’d had the situation all wrong.

Niko wasn’t attacking anything, nor was he in any danger at all. Indeed, a swarm of Red Hawks might have been covering him and flapping excitedly, but he was trilling happily and gently nuzzling them in return, careful of his sword-like beak and much larger size. Skye felt a warmth in her bones at the sight, and felt a tension she’d been carrying like armor fall away from her. Ever since they’d heard about the specifics, Skye had wanted to make sure a reunion could happen between them if possible. She didn’t expect it to be so soon, but that was a happy surprise, not a bad one. ‘Finally, something easy.’ Skye sighed, happy to see her maybe-someday friend back with his family.

“Whoa,” Ronald stepped further into the room, “This is… big.”

“Is that a bar?” Dachna stared to the far left, and Skye glanced over to see, indeed, that there was a fully outfitted bar. As well as a few tables, and what looked to be a door beside the bar that was labeled helpfully with ‘Kitchen.’ Three more hallways left from this room via currently open doors, though Skye couldn’t understand why there were more here. What was the purpose of this room? Why were they here in the first place?

She knew that the Guildmaster had said some foreboding things about them being placed on the Champion’s Pilgrimage, but if this is part of what that entailed, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it. Then again, what was a pilgrimage before what she’d already learned?

Skye took a sharp breath in at that, before expelling it just as hard. Steeling her nerves, she did her best to accept things as they were and not to think about things too deeply just yet.

Ronald chuckled, “It’s a lot.”

A simple statement, but one no less true. And with that Ronald led the way a little deeper into the room with Skye and the rest following, the steward taking up a comfortable distance of four meters away from the group to give them space.

“Dane!” Mithel called out to the man, “Hey! What’s all this?”

The man shot a confused look at Mithel, no doubt wondering at the friendly tone the woman displayed to someone she barely knew, but he smiled warmly. “A family reunion. From my understanding, this space is mine–perhaps ours?” he glanced at the Steward who merely gave a slow blink and slight incline of his head in assent “–to do with as we please. There are extra tables and chairs in the storage closet, I only bothered pulling out the one.”

Before anyone could move, “If it pleases, I will arrange for additional seating to be set out.” The steward spoke, but wasn’t precisely asking. A bell rang from the space around the man somehow, leaving Skye searching him for any sign that he’d done anything. She wasn’t sure what bothered her more, the fact that she didn’t see him move at all, or the fact that there were suddenly four more men immaculately dressed in black and white entering the room with scarcely a sound. In fact, she doubted she’d hear them at all if they didn’t seem to be intentionally tapping their feet as they went.

The steward whispered something short to them and merely looked at the Greenhorns before two of the men went into the hallway to the right side of the bar, while the other two went left. “Lunch will be provided soon, seating sooner, and refreshments now, if you good people would allow.”

The gray-silver haired man then smoothly stepped up behind the bar, upon which Skye could almost swear she saw the man shed his previous austere air and move into something more amicable.

‘Right…’ Skye shook her head mirthlessly as she turned her attention back onto the pile of feathers.

Dachna, on the other hand, tentatively stepped up, “You know drinks?”

He looked on as the stewards eyes twinkled, “A few.”

“Then…” Dachna pondered for a moment, before nodding, “A Rusty Shiv, then.”

“A classic.” Was the only thing the man said before he moved to the back wall, picking out three ingredients before Dachna spoke again.

“Give it the Two-Timing special.”

“With or without crushed ice?”

“Oh, you do know this one! Not crushed. Do you have any cream?”

“Mmm, the Espira touch, then?”

“Hah! Yeah, that’s the one,” Dachna grinned, and Skye felt her attention flick over to the exchange in confusion at what she felt was something of an unspoken conversation. Yet, beside a slight familiarity between the two, she didn’t understand much of what just happened.

“I have no idea, I’m just gonna let that one lie,” Ronald stated following Skye’s gaze, followed by a murmured agreement from Mithel and Reese.

A table and seats came out soon thereafter, and the group found themselves sitting down before a series of murky drinks that looked more like swirling mud with bronze and bright orange in it in front of them. Skye wasn’t the only one whose face crumbled slightly at the appearance of the stuff, but Eustace was outright glaring at the thing as though he expected it to move.

“It’s good!” Dachna chortled at the response his friends gave the drink, “Trust me, try it!”

“I’ve drunk some pretty questionable concoctions, but most of them that looked like this were poisonous.” Mithel picked up the cup and eyed it dubiously.

“Same. I’m pretty sure I’ve hunted oozes that looked like this.” Reese picked hers up.

Ronald picked up the large glass and sipped it wordlessly. He frowned at first, before his eyes went wide, “Oh? Oh! That sneaks up on you!”

Dachna cackled, “Yeah, that’s the Rusty Shiv, for ya,” the man drank more of his own, seeming more at ease and at home then Skye had ever seen the man.

The others tried some, Eustace being the last. He was also the one who took the deepest draught of it, side by side with Dane who were both stunned at the flavor.

“That’s very good. Rusty Shiv?” Eustace glanced up to Dachna, who nodded at the man, “I’ve drunk some very fine combinations, but that’s good stuff! It’s all done with commonly available brews, yes?”

“You know your drink?” Dachna blinked in surprise.

Eustace chuckled, “I might act like this, but I’m no snob. Especially not for perfectly good spirits.”

Dane added, “I have no idea what I just drank, but it's good!”

Then Ronald started talking about the local booze trade, where Dachna looked at the man like he didn’t even know him before. Skye found it all deeply amusing.

“Oh!” Mithel startled next to her suddenly, only to look down at a critter under her leg. “Oh, hello there sweetheart!”

The saccharine tone immediately caused Skye to roll her eyes, but as Mithel pulled a light blue-colored cat up from beneath the seat, her heart melted too. “Oh, ohhhh it’s so cute!”

“Soooo cuuuuuute!” Mithel joined in the chant, and gently plied the cat with ear-scritches. Skye reached over, hearing the loud purring even over the conversations of the others.

Dane cocked his head at the noise before realizing it was coming from Mithel’s lap, “Huh. Well, that’s neat.”

“Why’s that?” Mithel asked softly before whispering more sweet nothings to the creature that seemed to be melting under her ministrations.

“He only lets the Guildmaster pet him like that.” Dane smiled, “I was worried about him, since Orson’s too busy to be around all the time.”

“Oh? I wonder if he’s a cat person, then,” Mithel nodded, before getting a look Skye hadn’t seen on her, “Mmm, he’s a keeper.”

The table looked at her strangely.

“What? He’s the most silver fox guy I’ve seen,” she didn’t even bother explaining anything beyond that.

Skye asked, “Isn’t he at least double your age?”

“Oh, give an old woman a break,” Mithel stuck her tongue out at Skye, but was grinning at her joke.

“Hah, maybe in the head–” Dachna started before coughing at the flat look Mithel gave him “–I mean, soul, right. Old soul.”

The table laughed at that, and Reese said, “Where is Guildmaster Orson, anyways?”

She looked to the steward that was currently attending the bar and watching the table with a mix of attentiveness while also attempting to leave them a semblance of privacy, but at the question he answered, “Master Orson will be joining us after certain minor issues are taken care of. He would likely ask that I let you all know that he would have loved to be here to greet you.”

“I know someone who might feel the same,” Dachna wagged his eyebrows at Mithel, trying to get a response.

Instead she only smiled radiantly, and Dachna, somewhat deflated, immediately decided to abandon any attempt to tease the gnomish woman with romantic stuff in the future. Skye, on the other hand, was still slightly red from the scandalous mentions, and  Dachna noted that Reese and Dane shared her complexion.

She drained a bit more of her drink, intent on not thinking about her friends' proclivities in the meantime.

Dane looked up from the table, eyebrows up, before he nodded wordlessly. A moment later, Skye almost jumped as a bird landed on his shoulder as gently as possible. She also noted then that Dane had tough leather patches sewn onto his shoulders, forearms, and thighs. After that, another clattering of flapping wings and playful chirps and screeches filled the air as the remaining four Red Hawk’s landed on the table immediately surrounding Dane.

And then Skye watched as Niko stood over his shoulder, casting a shadow above Dane’s form. Dane, to his credit, only moved very slowly as he picked up his drink and twisted in his seat to look more fully at the bird. With equal slowness, the bird that Skye knew could pierce through a shield with a peck angled his head and gently butted his forehead against Dane’s.

He smiled widely at that, and then the room was suffused with a burst of essence, laden with gratitude, warmth, and a promise of a favor. Skye wasn’t the only one who felt her skin ripple with goosebumps at the lingering sensation. Ronald gripped his cup, easing only when he realized he was about to break it. Reese, on the other hand, had gripped the table hard enough to put indentations into it. The others' reactions were more tame, but they were no less awestruck at the sheer emotion and meaning in the emotional resonance that rang through the air.

Niko pulled back, and Skye realized that there were tears in his eyes, relief and happiness touching on the lingering essence in the air. Dane smiled, blinking out a tear of his own, and tried to talk.

It came out choked at first with emotion, but he managed it on his second try, “You’re welcome. And, if it means anything… I think they saved me, too. They’re good kids.”

The Red Hawks cried out defensively at the mention of the word ‘kids’, before they turned specifically to the one on his shoulder. He laughed, “Alright, well, this one’s definitely a kid.”

The bird in question, Gabby, nipped him playfully on the earlobe, which got a gasp of alarm out of Dane, “Ohhh no, that freaks me out, Gabb-” She did it again, this time even more gleefully.

A ball of Red Hawks erupted in a faux battle as the other four came to Dane’s defense. Skye felt her cheeks hurt with how hard she was smiling at them. Niko’s shadow came over her shoulder, then, and she leaned back to look up at him.

—---------------------------------------

Charles, or Niko, he supposed, looked upon his siblings with warmth. ‘Yeah, this is how this is supposed to be. Pecking, plucking each other's feathers, proper sibling antics.’

There should have been a lot going through his mind at the time, but Charles couldn’t manage to care about them right now. The name problem, the issues of a mountain of beasts threatening to come down on the city, even the eventual goal of hunting the gods just seemed so… unimportant, right now.

‘This is what’s important.’ He nodded to himself, letting a warm warble roll up from his throat as he moved around the table. He’d almost cut Dane in half when he walked into the room, and if it hadn’t been for his siblings immediately realizing what was about to happen and intervening, he might have done something irreversible and awful. Awful, because Dane was good people, the siblings had seemed to thoroughly vet him, and the connection between the two was nothing like that of master and slave. They’d even managed to somehow let him feel the connection. They could have cut the line at any time, and it would have been easy for them to do, but not without penalty. There was a cost to splitting the connection, it wasn’t much for the beast in question though. A little bit of time and they’d recollect the essence they’d lost in the cutting, but a humanoid? They suffer dramatically from a cut connection, since apparently their own ability to interact with essence was not nearly as fluid and natural. It’d hemorrhage from them for a bit. Which, in this case, would also kill Dane given that there were five connections.

He knew they wouldn’t sever that connection, though. They were closer to blood-bonded friends; inseparable, but a bond that was true and honest with all the well meaning and good faith that Charles could hope for. More than that, while the siblings had joined into the bond in a complicated situation, none of them regretted it, and none of them felt like leaving. Apparently the man, Dane, was fun, and they were all experiencing some very interesting things through their connections.

Setting that aside, Charles loomed over Skye. Thoughts raced through his mind as he did so, and when she leaned back to look up at him, Charles decided a few things.

A tame connection would probably never be on the table. Not just because of his own personal trauma, but because he was literally eventually expected to hunt gods. Who could he possibly drag along on a journey like that in the long term? But, he could feel that his subconscious instincts against the Greenhorns had declined significantly with the knowledge of his family's safety. He knew that his instincts were still working in such a way that suggested a kind of camaraderie with them for having been defeated, in spite of how much he’d tried to beat that sense to death with his human side. Even so, it held firm, and at least now he’d lost a great deal of the drive against most of them.

Slowly, he leaned over and leaned his head against Skye’s for a second. He felt her stiffening at the motion, before relaxing and gently reaching up and giving the side of his head some scratches, just behind where his ears were. Charles warbled involuntarily at that, shivering at the scritching he didn’t even know he needed. Suddenly, he wondered if maybe just a little pampering might be good.

‘Feathering peck, oh, now that’s a sensation I need in my life.’ Shamelessly, he leaned into the scratching, before Skye giggled.

“Well, I guess you like ear scritches then, huh Niko?”

Charles turned his head and gave her a short but toothless glare at the name, but shrugged.

And then looked at her drink and realized revenge was at his feathertips.

“Hold on, maybe that’s not a great ide–Hey, Niko!” Skye complained as Charles grabbed the cup around the edges and pulled it upwards before slugging back the drink. It burned like alcohol was wont to do, but there was a great sweetness and rich flavor to the drink. Charles hadn’t been much for drinking in his last life, but that was mostly because of the health concerns he had to deal with near the end of it. Here, he figured he could at least let loose now and then.

“We’re letting the giant murder bird drink?” Dachna asked with a stiff smile on his face, “Is that a good idea?”

Skye wordlessly accepted the now empty glass back from Charles with a mixture of shock and joviality as Charles warbled a musical tune.

“We’re drinking with a friend,” Skye smiled, “So I think it’s a good idea. What do you think, Niko?”

Charles ignored the name this time, feeling the rush of heat so very unlike that of essence in his system. ‘Ohhh I’m so glad birds can drink! Pluck yeah!’

He sat down in between Skye and Mithel’s chairs, giving the cat a minor glance.

Tiku was frozen in the gaze with a worried Mithel watching the two. Charles clucked at him in words that the humanoids at the table didn’t understand, “Tomorrow I need to take you to your sister. She’s worried sick about you.”

The expressions on the cat were quite distinct, but Charles noted that they fell on something warm. Tiku nodded before curling up – adorably, he had to begrudgingly admit– on Mithel’s lap. Charles pecked at the cup and chittered energetically.

Skye laughed and gestured to the steward once more, “Two more over here, please!”

The man nodded and mixed the drinks as though serving alcohol to a Phorus was perfectly normal. It probably was, now that he thought about it, with tamers being even remotely common, businesses would be remiss if they didn’t include them in their services.

‘Damn he’s professional as peck, a regular cool crow,” Charles nodded, ‘Yeah, that’s your name now, Cool Crow. Or maybe just Crow. Damn, what is in this drink?’

Charles sipped the drink much slower, using his long tongue to drink from it while Skye traded insults at Dachna with Mithel pitching in happily. Ronald spoke with Reese, wondering at how long she’d been a paladin, wherein both Dane and Eustace happily latched onto the question.

Eventually, Charles felt his siblings land on his back, and with a brief nuzzle on each of them, spoke at them.

“This is pretty fun, huh?” He said to them, “You all make sure to look after eachother, okay?”

“Okay!” Gabby’s exuberance flowed freely, “Since I was the first tamed, I’ll watch after these bird-brains.”

“You’re not even the eldest, fool, Talon’s second.” Owl scoffed with an eye roll for additional effect, “I’m more worried about you. Are you going to be okay? We might go separate ways soon.”

Charles was touched by the concern, but clucked in denial, “I’ll be fine. It’s different knowing that you’re still around and that we can see eachother again.”

Talon lilted, “Don’t put on a tough front, we all know you're soft-feathered on the inside.” The siblings all nodded sagely at that.

“The peck does that mean?” Charles tilted his head in confusion, “On that note, you all are… suspiciously good at communicating now. What happened?”

They looked at him collectively with no small amount of pity, “Brother, I don’t know how to tell you this… but… uh…” Pecky started.

Yak butted in, “You were bad at birding!”

They nodded once more sagely, as though some great wisdom was imparted.

Charles’ gave them a flat look, “I was bad at… birding?”

“Very bad.”

“Awful.”

“I can write a book about it, when I learn how to write.”

“It was a good try!”

And finally, Yak once more, “Bad at birding.”

With a twitch of an eyelid precluding a rant, Charles managed to bite down on the retort and switched subjects to something more helpful. He realized that he couldn’t really tell them his name, not without telling Skye through writing anyways, and he wasn’t even sure if that was a good idea. So, instead, he went with the roundabout route, “So, anyone want to help me tell them my name is Charles?”

They looked at eachother with confusion, then back to him, “Your name is Niko, though?”

“That’s just the name they gave me,” He explained patiently, “Charles is my old name.”

“When you were with us?” Pecky asked excitedly, “Is that from when you were with us? You were just Eldest. Or Brother.” The other birds searched one another for any other answer at that, but they quickly determined that there wasn’t one.

Charles paused, realizing that he really had never told him what his name once was, and shook his head, “Uh… no. It was from an earlier time.”

The gathering of hawks fluffed up slightly at that and Owl said with a slight edge to his tone, “Then why use it? Niko is better.”

Instead of trying to explain all of the history behind the name, something stopped him. He looked at each of them, seeing earnestness and not a shred of mischief. “Why?”

“They named you Niko. You’re their friend, so they named you.” Pecky nodded.

Yak spoke, “Close ones name you. You named us. So let them name you.”

That received much more backing from the birds, and Charles felt his chest run hot with the statement. He searched them with his attention, before looking over the people he’d come into town with. ‘They’re… not really my friends?’ He wanted to say that, but it sounded childish, and pointless.

“Plus Charles is a lame bird name,” Said Gabby, eliciting a second round of nods that Charles pointedly ignored.

‘Close to me, huh?...’ Charles thought to himself, feeling in some strange way that his siblings weren’t nearly as unworldly as he thought they were. “I’ll think about it.”