Celeste woke up when something poked her cheek. Her arm that the goblin attacked ached, but it didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. She was still groggy from whatever they had given her, but she willed herself to open her eyes. Instead of seeing goblins as she expected, Seraque and Tundar’s faces greeted her. Tundar was squatted next to her. He had been the one poking her.

“Oh good, you’re awake. We were getting concerned there. We thought that maybe the goblin draught did you in. That would’ve been quite the report to give to the boss.”

“Davik?” she questioned as she got up. She noticed that the arm the goblin had gotten was bandaged.

“Lord Davik is not the one we directly report to,” Seraque explained as he started to smooth out her wrinkled clothes. She’d admit that she probably wasn’t wearing clothes fit to see a lord. But it wasn’t like she was expecting to see someone important when she got dressed that morning. “It’s Malatar, his second.”

So the Inquisitors didn’t report to Andra. As such, she wouldn’t mention her missing diary to them, not that they probably cared. She got tired of Seraque fussing over her clothes and shooed him away. There was no way she probably would look presentable without a good bath.

“I assume he’ll be at the meeting too.”

“Of course. He wouldn’t miss something like this. The Boss has always enjoyed the rumor mill and right now, you’re the most interesting rumor.” Tundar stood up from his position on the floor. “Well, if you’re feeling like you’re up for conversation, we better not keep Lord Davik waiting too long. He doesn’t find the rumor as amusing as Malatar.”

That was certainly foreboding. Then again, Davik didn’t sound like a very nice person to begin with. But it seemed inevitable that she would have to meet the man, so she might as well get it over with. It wouldn’t be the first time she had dealt with unpleasant people.

“Lead on, then.”

Tundar took the lead while Seraque stayed behind. It was only when they started moving that she noticed they were not in a tent, but an actual building. She assumed it was a fort of some sort, though it was hard to tell from the inside. They came out a hallway into the main hall where there were all sorts of people meandering about. Most of them were armed and wearing some sort of basic armor, though she did see a few that had neither that seemed to be picking up things or cleaning things. And she also saw a few goblins here and there.

The trio seemed to garner some attention which only encouraged Celeste to walk faster. Something about the way some of them looked at her made her skin crawl. She nearly ran into Tundar at one point, but she did manage to step on the back of his boot.

“Most of these people are scarier than they look.” He assured her. “That and they know better than to mess with a guest of Lord Davik’s.”

She wasn’t sure if she trusted his assessment. Sure, they were keeping away but she had a feeling that wouldn’t have been the case if not for the Inquisitors escorting her. She knew how bad people could be, even if she had rarely experienced it herself.

Fortunately, they didn’t stay in the main hall long and entered a room at the back of it. Seeing that it was a rather small room and only contained a chair, Celeste could assume that this was some sort of a meeting room. But that soon, her concern turned to the fact that three other people were in the room. As soon as she entered, Tundar and Seraque bowed and exited.

Her attention was mainly drawn to the man sitting in the only chair in the room. His armor, unlike most Renewers’, seemed to be in very good shape and very well cared for. He even had pieces for his arms and legs when most seemed to favor just having a breastplate. Behind him, he had a cloak on, though she couldn’t tell what it was made of. A large sword sat across his lap.

Behind the chair a bit stood a woman that reminded her of Glyda. She wasn’t glaring at her, but she felt like she was staring into her soul. She had to wonder if that was Andra that Glyda had talked about. She certainly looked like she was dressed to be someone who spied around. If she hadn’t moved slightly, Celeste would’ve never noticed her.

Then there was a man standing right beside who she assumed was Davik. He looked a lot like Tundar and Seraque, though he was taller than both of them. She was starting to wonder if they were related. He smiled at her and for a moment, she thought that there was a bit of slyness to it. She would have to be cautious around him. He didn’t look dangerous, but no one became a second without being dangerous somehow. She especially didn’t trust his slicked-back hair.

The man in the chair propped up his arm and rested his chin on his hand. Celeste stayed by the door, a good ways away from everyone. Finally, the man spoke.

“I hope your trip here wasn’t unpleasant. I heard that there was a bit of trouble when the goblins went to pick you up. I’ll admit that goblins don’t have the best manners.”

Her hand unconsciously went to her bandaged arm. Up until then, things had been going pretty well.

“I was out for most of it and since I’m in one piece, I assume the trip wasn’t too bad on me.”

“And the injury?”

Celeste lifted her arm a bit. “I prevented one of them from taking a goblin pup from the goblin family I knew. It’s not a good idea to get in the middle of a goblin fight.” Though seeing that both goblins were now safe, she didn’t regret it. “But other than that, it wasn’t bad.”

The man cocked his head a bit but didn’t otherwise move. “You must forgive them. It’s not often that they get sent to collect guests. But I’ll ask them for more information on what happened.” He then beckoned her with a flick of his hand. “No need to stand so far away, Sleeper. You don’t have a voice that carries very well in this room and I’m not as young as I used to be.”

She approached and stopped where she felt was appropriate. Now that she was a little closer to him, she could tell that where he didn’t have a beard, he had small, faded scars. Though she noticed that the scar across his nose looked more like a burn. She had to wonder if a piece of the crystal had struck him when it exploded. It was embedded somewhere in him, but she couldn’t tell where. And despite that happening at least two decades ago, it looked fairly recent. He seemed to notice her focus.

“So, does my visage live up to the tales you’ve no doubt been told? No doubt you were expecting Ivnar the Barbarian King from the stories they tell children.”

“I certainly expected a bit more scruff and an ax,” she admitted. “Though that sword of yours certainly is nearly large enough to be one.”

“I would wield an ax, but this sword has meaning to me and has served me well.” He sat back up. “Now I assume you have a name and don’t go by Sleeper all the time.”

“Celeste Avon. I used to work for a jeweler by the name of Madame Bustier.”

Davik nodded. “Yes, I once knew Madame Bustier. I heard that she died in her sleep a few years ago. Unfortunately for you, Feon doesn’t have much of a need for jewelers these days. You’ll have to find yourself a new trade.” He stood up. Since the chair was on a slightly raised platform, he towered over her a bit more than he usually would. He tilted his head a bit.“That is if you are who you say you are. Are you?”

If it weren’t for his tone, Celeste might’ve thought he was teasing her. Derrick often tilted his head like that whenever he teased her about something. Owain had named it his Inquisitor pose, even though he wasn’t one. But his tone was always light, not heavy like Davik’s. But Davik had a point. How was she supposed to prove her identity when everything was no doubt lost?

“Well, have you nothing to say? I do expect an answer when I ask a question.”

He suddenly thrust a hand out. Celeste startled and backed up, treading on the edge of the rug in front of the chair and tripping over it. Her pride hurt more than the fall, especially when the other two people in the room laughed. At least, she thought the woman laughed a little. It was hard to tell with her mouth covered by a scarf. Even Davik had a chuckle.

“Bravery can be such a fleeting thing.” He commented once he stopped. “Malatar, come help our guest back up. She doesn’t trust me.”

“She no doubt thought you were going for her throat, milord,” Malatar replied as he approached. He held his hand out to her. “You can’t blame her for having a sense of self-preservation over being brave. And really, you asked her an unfair question. How can she prove her identity without some sort of record?”

She pushed Malatar’s hand away and got up. She didn’t trust him any more than she did Davik. Malatar looked a bit disappointed and lowered his hand before taking a step back to give her a bit more room.

“Good point, Malatar.” He took a step down from the platform. He was still very tall. “I apologize if I seemed overly harsh, Celeste. You just have a very hefty claim. Surely there is someone that can identify you.”

“If there is, I haven’t found any in either camp.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to reveal the names of her brothers. “Why are you so interested anyway? I’m sure you have something better to do than chase rumors.”

Celeste felt a great unease once Davik stopped right in front of her. No doubt the invasion of personal space was a tactic of his. She took a step back, only to step straight into Malatar’s torso. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Davik, but he still had a few inches on her. His hands settled on her shoulders.

“Don’t be afraid. Lord Davik just wants to talk.” He squeezed her shoulders a bit, much like her friends or Madame Bustier or parents do after she had a rough day. It was gentle but firm.

Her nervousness abated. Davik wouldn't bother to bring her here just to kill her, right? He did want to talk. He was not used to talking to a normal person. Perhaps he would get better with time.

Malatar stopped and took a step back, and the nervousness returned. Not as much as before, but it was still there. Still, the sudden return of it threw her off. Had...had Malatar done something to her? But she didn’t have time to dwell on that. Davik was expecting answers.

“Maybe the matron of the orphanage I grew up in, Hilda Brauen.”

“She died protecting her charges during the civil war.” She noticed Davik didn’t bother to say who had killed her. “Surely you have someone… Someone you might consider family…”

Maybe he did already know about them. After all, it looked like Andra stole her diary. She mentioned them several times.

“My brothers, Derrick, a member of the Guard, and Owain, a scribe. I haven’t been able to locate them in either camp, but Derrick might’ve changed his name if he got high enough in the Guard. But I wouldn’t know what he changed it to. Who knows what happened to Owain?”

That was when she noticed a change seem to come over the three in the room. Malatar backed up some more and looked from her to Davik. The woman’s expression hadn’t changed, but she came closer, alert about something. And Davik looked down at her with an expression she never thought she would see in a warlord’s eyes. The feeling of nostalgia came over her the longer she looked into them. A feeling of security, happiness, warmth, something she hadn’t felt as of late. That feeling could only come from one of two people that might still be alive.

Without hesitation, Celeste reached up and touched Davik’s face, running her thumb right under his eyes. It wasn’t visible, but she could feel the raised skin of an old scar. It could just be a coincidence that Davik had the same scar in the same place as her brother, but too many things about Davik were lining up with her memory of Derrick.

“Derrick, is that you?”