The Mephit's Tales

He should never have been fighting like this.

Fighting, yes. Charr were born to a life of fighting, and he’d taken to it well – in his own way. But his own way was not this way. A crush like this was where the Blood Legion belonged. Just get right in there and hack at the enemy – they loved that. And with the ghosts flocking all around them, thick as morning fog, there were certainly a lot of enemies to hack at.

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The main Audience Chamber was a piece of engineering of a kind with the great cavern of Aynithral, if on a smaller scale. In its tiered galleries, a thousand people and more could gather to watch the proceedings. The main body of the chamber could hold hundreds more in procession, without even setting foot on the broad dais that held the throne. That in turn could hold a retinue of a few dozen on its lower tier, and another half-dozen around the throne itself.

It was the site where all royal proclamations of Jisani were read. From this very cavern, he’d sent Dren to the deep vaults. Many an uncomfortable hour had been spent on that unyielding seat.

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The moment the door closed, it sank in just how much more of a home the Hall of Healing had become than the Deep ever had. Perhaps the appointments weren’t quite so sumptuous, definitely not so spacious, and the food was much simpler fare, but he felt safe there. For the past few years especially, the Deep had kept him in a state ranging from anxiety to active terror.

Jisarr sagged against the door with a sigh of relief.

Rima looked from one of them to the other. “Aynithral’s market may be the most hectic place I’ve seen, but the both of you look rather too wrung for even that.”

“The market, averting a bloody riot, and interrogation by a rather prickly general. That’s enough to leave anybody feeling wrung,” Tavi put in. “I think I need a drink, and I’m strongly considering getting you one on healer’s orders.” With that parting word to Jisarr, she disappeared deeper into the building.

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Tavi was indeed supportive of the notion, and did indeed have a contribution toward it, but she also had a caution: it wasn’t going to be as simple as just walking out the door and going to market.

“Firstly,” she said, “you are still in my care, and not just for healing. It’s absurd, but for the moment, that lot hold power, and it would not be wise to simply ignore them. Second, it would be best if you avoid drawing too much attention to yourself. Unfortunately for us, you are rather conspicuous.”

“Oh, curses. I should have thought of that,” Rima muttered. “I’ve never seen black fur outside the royal family and its close relatives.”

“Even the Dukes don’t have that,” Tavi confirmed. “And while I don’t know how people would react to seeing you in the public plazas, I can only imagine that it would hamper your plans, one way or another.”

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