It took several days, but of course there was a celebratory party, with Parth and Janaxia getting cheered, both being feted for their role in the slaying the Lithmara. The knights and other adventurers that had departed with Carissia showed off their own trophies, the severed horns and fangs from lesser demons, as well as a few other monsters they’d flushed out from hiding places. Stathis lurked at the back, glad to be mostly ignored, as Carissia announced each deed to cheers and Semari steadily demolished the food that had been laid out.

Carissia’s speech ended with her pressing her hands together in prayer, using her magic to summon up floating mage-lights while making her robes and hair fluttering in a magical breeze. ‘And of course, we must all give thanks to the mysterious warrior that appeared to defeat Galondwyn the Heartstealer, finally destroying her wickedness, destroying not just her physical form, but her very spiritual essence.’

A final cheer erupted, as the formalities ended, and the party started in earnest. Carissia was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of admirers, courtiers and assorted flunkeys, all competing for her attention. Parth came back, showing off a shiny new medal, showing the many-winged form of the Lithmara.

‘Oooo, shiny! How come we don’t get one?’ Semari turned to Stathis, accusing look in her eyes. ‘You zapped me with lightning, and that hurts, and now I don’t get a medal. This sucks.’ She pushed more food into her mouth, glaring at other guests as they approached the food table, trying to scare them off.

Now that the threat was over, other residents of the town had started to return, and, of course, any who could had attended the ceremony, many claiming sick relatives that just had to be tended to, otherwise of course they would have been around to help. Janaxia, now in her element, passed through several groups, gracefully inclining her head to those she passed, acknowledging their praise, brief conversations and witticisms being exchanged. Her hair was done up in an elaborate swirl, bound with golden chains, combined with an over-large fascinator to make her horns appear ornamental rather than demonic, if perhaps not in the best of taste.

This is all rather pleasant, isn’t it? Stathis coughed loudly and gestured at her throat, reminding Janaxia to speak out loud. ‘It is so nice to be honoured, is it not?’ Her medal was around her neck, the metal bright against the dark silk, her hand regularly coming up to stroke it. ‘Such a shame Carissia is busy, but I’m sure there will be a chance to talk later.’

A quartet of wizards, judging by their baggy robes and gaudy staves, entered as a block, barging past the herald without letting themselves be announced. Their leader looked around, then headed straight for them. The group stopped, Stathis’ hand going to her sword, as the leader drew back their hood, taking a breath to speak.

‘Wow, you’re, like, non-pretty, grumpy Janaxia?’ Semari had stepped forward, far too close, staring into their face. Stathis found it hard to disagree – it was like looking at an older, far more unkempt and raggedy Janaxia, face covered with pockmarks and burns, her lips a taut pale line, compared to Janaxia’s own, lush and red. Janaxia herself paled, hand freezing on her medal, a low susurration of psychic consternation washing out.

‘Janaxia, my sister.’ Her tone was utterly bereft of warmth. ‘I was surprised to hear that you were involved in this escapade. Although I suppose you weren’t entirely worthless, some affair with a demon of the third tier? Something that should be trivial for a wizard of any real power.’ They embraced, an awkward looking thing that seemed to involve as little physical contact as possible, bodies almost diagonal.

‘This is my sister, Kivata Seyroon Falmeth Uth Tremari, of Frostreaver’s Blood, a necromancer of the 6th Blood, and summoner of the Iron Chain of Brisath and the wielder of Gostath’s Staff.’ Janaxia announced the titles with the air of one announcing her own execution.

‘And you would be the vagabonds with whom my sister associates? A common sell-sword, an elf, and…’ She looked at Semari, struggling to find an adequate description. ‘I suppose you must have at least some modicum of talent between you to survive.’ She stared at Janaxia. ‘Are you going to fetch me some food, or just stand there gawping?’ Janaxia shrunk back, but obediently went to fill a plate with food. The crowd began to ripple towards them, Carissia stepping forth, trading witticisms with several other adventurers, laughter bursting out at some joke.

Kivata puffed herself up, brushing a hand down her robes, before curtseying. ‘High Priestess Carissia Iristari! I have a matter I’ve long wished to discuss…’

Carissia walked past, brushing Kivata away without acknowledging her. ‘Stathis! I was wondering where you were hiding. Ah, and Janaxia, I was hoping to talk to you. And you’ve even picked out some food. Excellent taste, as always.’ They embraced, faces brushing, Janaxia still tense and nervous as Carissia linked arms with her. ‘Your defeat of the Lithmara was most impressive, from what I’ve heard.’

As compliments were heaped upon Janaxia, Kivata began to turn a rather unhealthy-looking colour, until Stathis felt sorry for her. ‘Sorry, Carissia’s not always good at paying attention. She’ll get around to you eventually, probably, but they’re probably going to be busy for a while. Want a drink? The wine’s not bad.’

Kivata glared at her. ‘Some sellsword dares to speak of Lady Carissia so familiarly? Impudent wretch! As if she would deign to speak to such as you!’

Stathis sighed, wondering what referring to Carissia as ‘sister’ would do, or unveiling her wings. Instead, she took a sip of the wine and left Kivata to her fuming, watching as she attached herself to the train of hangers-on surrounding Carissia, somewhere at the back, her lackeys trailing along behind her. Janaxia had already slipped into a blissed-out daze, apparently mere physical contact with Carissia enough to set her off.

As the party died down, Stathis was alone on a balcony, sipping at some wine as she looked over the town, repairs already starting on the damage, enjoying the cool breeze. Carissia, appearing unruffled from her day socialising, stepped up behind her.

‘Ah, the mysterious “angelic warrior”, hiding her glory in the shadows. A worthy deed, for which you should be congratulated. Although a goat seems a rather ungainly mount, even if it was a legendary example of the breed.’ She smiled.

‘It seemed a good idea at the time, and I needed any help I could get. Anyway, how did you get back so fast?’

‘One of the knights with me had had his heart removed. I managed to restore it, at least temporarily, with magic, and he told me what Galondwyn had planned. Then, it was a simple case of riding two knights half to death, before I was in range to make the final jump to your side.’

That meant she knew at least short-range teleportation magic now. Stathis sighed, foreseeing more sudden, unexpected visits in her future. ‘Thanks, you showed up just in time. So, is that Heartless knight OK?’

Carissia shrugged. ‘I imagine he has found his heart from amongst the heap. But to not notice that Galondwyn was your parlourmaid? It all ended well enough, I suppose, but it could have been wrapped up significantly earlier.’

‘Hey, you didn’t notice either! Anyway, I should return this.’ Stathis handed back the statue of the goat, now battered and scarred, the injuries it had sustained reflected on the figurine. ‘It probably needs to go back in a vault or something, right?’

It vanished into one of Carissia’s long sleeves. ‘You could have taken better care of it. Although I hear that several other sacred relics were rather badly damaged, taken from the vault beneath your chapterhouse here.’ She quirked an eyebrow at Stathis, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it from Stathis herself.

‘Yes, Galondwyn destroyed the Sacred Armour of the Sun Ascendant. I didn’t have a lot of choice, I wasn’t going to fight that thing without armour!’

Carissia patted her hand, both patronising and soothing at the same time. ‘I’m sure you tried your best. Although the Chapter-Master did mention something about needing to pay for the repairs?’

Stathis groaned, having received the invoice that morning, with a rather disturbing number of zeroes on. ‘Yes, that happened. That’s going to take a while to pay back.’

‘I’m sure something could be arranged, if you were willing to be a little more flexible. You do have a certain other you could call upon, after all.’

‘No thanks, I’ll deal with this on my own. And please don’t tell her.’ As if Stathis didn’t have enough problems already!

Carissia rolled her eyes. ‘If you insist, but you do seem to almost enjoy making things harder than they need to be. But at least you dealt with Galondwyn, and her little cult will soon be eliminated. Although sadly I can’t stay for long, some crisis over in the Stormlands demands swift attention.’ She stepped forward, unexpectedly hugging Stathis, face looking up at her, barely perceptible grey rings of tiredness beneath her eyes. ‘We really should try and make time to talk, but I have my own duties.’ She clicked her fingers, a blue circle of light appearing above her fingers, neatly folded papers suspending themselves in the air. ‘A letter for you. A shame we couldn’t spend much time together, there are some lovely cafes nearby, but I daresay it won’t be long until we meet again. And you should go visit sometime, you know how she worries.’

Stathis took the letters, neatly sealed with wax, a slight glow of magic showing that the contents would be destroyed if opened by the wrong person.

‘Do try and stay safe, sister. Remember, there are greater tasks you have ahead of you. While you may find some reward in simple travel and adventure, there are limits to what any single blade can achieve down in some dank ruin or dungeon.’

A rune-circle shimmered into being on the ground, faint choir of celestial voices thrumming through the air. ‘Do convey me affections to Janaxia, if you would be so kind. She seems most pleasant company, despite the history of her family. Although her horns seemed a little too daring; she wore them well, but there are limits.’ She grimaced. ‘She is far more cultured than her sister at least. Odious little thing. Well, she is a necromancer, there’s only so much that can be expected from that sort. She had some research she wanted to discuss, some tiresome matter of lunar conjunctions. Very dull, I had to foist her off onto Magus Miltarus.’

Carissia stepped into the circle, waving goodbye. ‘Do be careful. Oh, and keep an eye out for the Mourn Blade, I’ve heard reports that Galondwyn was carrying it. And I really do think a horse would be a more noble and fitting steed for you in future!’ She vanished from sight, plucked away by the teleportation spell, giving Stathis no chance for a comeback.

Back in the hall, Semari was barely conscious and slumped in a chair, surrounded by several knights foolish enough to have accepted her challenge of a drinking competition, Lady Kamarni sprawled across the next seat, hand still wrapped tightly against a wine bottle, fighting to stay conscious herself. Parth was stood with another elf, the two staring at each other, both with a knife at the ready, some weird elf thing that Stathis wanted no part of. Janaxia was bustling around, making sure everyone was aware, not just of her presence, but that she had been talked to, personally, by Carissia, even though those still left were in no fit state to care. Even Terinth had left, a partner on each arm, singing songs of victory and glory.

With a little chivvying, she managed to herd everyone towards the door, the warm night air waking them up a little, as they walked down the hill. Misutira greeted them grumpily, waving them in and slamming then locking the door shut behind them, before returning to her own bed. As she’d taken the lantern with her, they were left in darkness, stumbling through the house and up the stairs, crashing and bumping along.