Jack stood for a moment, watching Erin walk down the old stone steps of Toben’s home, her hair braided into a tight ponytail and the soft fabric of her dress clinging to her athletic runner’s form. She smiled softly at the reaction.

“You like it?” she asked him.

“Yeah. You look great,” he grinned back.

As they stared into each others’ eyes, Layla coughed and looked down the steps at Rory.

“Well?” she smirked at him.

“With that bust and those hips, you need a wide belt or a wrap to accentuate your figure. You could also do with a splash of color in the hair or around the neck, and though flats are comfortable, that look would be better with heels,” he smiled at her.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and her mirage’s hair shifted from its usual black to a rich purple affair with brilliant blue highlights.

“How’s that?” she grinned.

“It’s a neat trick, to be sure, but I’d have gone with purple on black,” he replied dryly.

Her hair shimmered again and fell in a wave of raven black with a gradual gradient to purple ends.

“Perfect,” he smiled. “Let’s see if we can find you a wrap or a scarf to go ‘round your waist.”

Erin walked the rest of the way down the steps as Rory and Layla walked back into Toben’s house, where Enora leaned against one of the pillars holding up the patio, laughing to herself at their antics.

“I love you, but I feel like I got the raw deal here,” she mocked a scowl.

“Nah. Layla has to put up with Rory’s fashion sense. I think you’re perfect the way you are,” he replied.

From inside the house, they heard Rory’s muted, “Fuck, he is smooth,” and Layla’s “I know, right?”.

Jack took her in his arms as they laughed at the rear guard’s antics. They stayed there for a few minutes, relaxing in the evening sun, until Jack remembered something.

“We have to make a quick stop when we head into town,” he told her.

“Oh yeah?” she ruffled his hair.

“Yeah. You’ve got an appointment to be fitted for a new set of plate,” he grinned.

“Oh Jackson, you know just the right things to say to make a girl swoon,” she fanned herself.

“It’s made from the guardian’s shell,” he replied.

“You didn’t. You guys didn’t sell it?!” she blurted.

“Nope. We both agreed you needed the upgrade,” he smiled.

“Aww, you guys…” she blinked rapidly and fanned her face.

“Don’t get the big head about it. We need your meaty ass in the front to soak up the hits,” Layla had emerged from the house.

Rory followed behind her and wrapped a long blue scarf twice around her waist then tied it in a clever half bow.

“Change your hair to match the scarf,” he gave the get-up a critical eye.

“Ugh, this does cost mana, you know,” she groused.

“Well, look, apparently purple isn’t in season this year, so just do it,” he scowled.

She grimaced and another wave of illusion cascaded across her hair, changing the gentle gradient to a slowly brightening hue that ended in six inches of rich royal blue.

“You two done?” Erin laughed.

“I suppose it’ll have to do. Not that it matters. All she has to do is shake her ass and wink and half the village would fall over themselves to paint her toenails, much less actually chat her up,” Rory scowled again.

“What about you, medium, dark, and unreasonably attractive? They’re apparently all about marriage equality around here,” she winked at him.

“You know I’m not going to fool around on D, Layla,” he frowned.

“I think he’d understand,” she goaded him.

“I think he’d raid the imperial armory for all their nukes and turn half the countryside into a glass wasteland,” Rory smiled.

“So, Jack said something about new armor?” Erin bounced and patted her hands together.

“Yeah, we’ll swing by the place on the way?” he turned and looked up at Enora.

“Toben will be here shortly to guide you to the feast. Now, I must make myself suitable to be seen with such heroes,” she smiled wryly.

-----

They meandered away from Toben’s villa, into the town proper, making their way first to the blacksmith, then to another shop Rory insisted on, where he purchased a length of ribbon and a handful of pins, then tied Layla’s hair into an elaborate coif that revealed the line of her neck. She walked the rest of the way to the feast with a skip in her step, holding Rory’s hand. Her simple joy made him smile, until they arrived at the feast and she dropped his hand.

“Can’t be disappointing the village boys, Rory,” she grinned.

“Betrayal. Heartache. Ennui. Alright, I’m over it. Enjoy your ‘feast’,” he smiled back.

Toben led them to the edge of the square, which had been transformed into a fair of some sort, with long tables laid out and various games and stalls. The merchants of the city seemed to have taken the feast as an opportunity to break out unique and special wares. The four were guided to a place of honor at the north end of the fair, and Toben informed them they would be sitting with his family and with the council of elders. The table there was already piled high with platters of food, and the elders were seated, drinking and eating their first courses.

“So, does this mean you’re the mayor of this place?” Layla side-eyed him.

“Actually, Enora is the speaker for the council,” he grinned at her. “I am a humble merchant.”

Rory choked on his drink, but quickly recovered, “My ass.” He paused a moment, then continued, “Come on, Toben. We’ve seen the way the people of the village defer to you. You’re something to these people.”

He scratched the back of his head and frowned.

“It is an honor from an older life. Before I gave up the sword,” he shrugged.

“You’re, what? The town sheriff?” Layla asked.

“I was once a huntsmaster of the Legion,” he grimaced.

“You mean… a jagermeister?” Rory scowled.

“I thought that was a type of liquor,” Layla raised an eyebrow.

“No. I mean, yes. But the name comes from Goering’s Nazi era hunting society,” Rory’s face darkened. “Who came up with all these names?” he turned to Toben.

“The Brothers. They named many parts of the Empire in a strange tongue they translated into our writing. But their own texts were in another tongue, which they taught no one,” he grimaced.

“Did it look like this?” Rory took his knife and scratched the first few letters of the modern Latin alphabet into his wooden plate.

Toben quickly shoveled food onto Rory’s plate, hiding the scratches.

He leaned in and whispered, “Yes, but show no one that you know these symbols. The empire has had little luck translating the Brothers’ ancient texts. All writings they left for the people were in our own tongue, containing these ancient words and names of power, such as the title of huntsmaster.”

“We’ll talk more about it tomorrow,” he told Toben.

The big man simply nodded, his expression dark.

Rory: So the Brothers were third reich fanboys.

Layla: But probably spoke English?

Rory: That’s sort of the vibe I’m getting. They translated the German stuff they wanted the Empire to know into the local language, but left everything else in our alphabet.

Erin: Why would they do that?

Rory: Why else? Power. If the instruction manuals for all their magic machines are written in English or German, then the natives can’t learn how to use it.

Jack: Shouldn’t they have learned to translate it by now?

Rory: Not necessarily. Think about it. They have the translation for German words, but if the texts are in English, they’re using the wrong key to break the cipher. It’s sort of brilliant really.

Their reverie was broken by Enora arriving. She greeted her husband, then the council of elders, then went around the fair for a few minutes. She eventually returned to the table, where she raised a cup and toasted the Chosen for defeating the guardian, then thanked them for all they had done for Mistelein. A few gifts were lavished on the four, clothing, simple jewelry, and a basket or two of various other goods.

Finally, the politics drew to a close and everyone sat down to eat. The fair was truly a feast, and the village had prepared dozens of dishes of local cuisine for the four’s table alone. Toben pointed out each various food, what was in it, discussed with Jack how it was prepared, and made sure to note that Enora made it better. The evening carried on that way well into the night, with new platters of food being brought to the table as time passed. The four were plied with drinks of all sorts, from juice to hot cider to stiff liquors. Their improved constitutions from raising their levels resulted in a dramatic increase in their alcohol tolerance, and even Toben remarked on how much they consumed.

Toward the end of the night, Layla picked out a few of the suitors that had been hovering at the edge of the council table for most of the night and took them away to sate the rest of her appetite. Rory drank himself unconscious and laid with his head on the table, snoring lightly. Of the two vanguard, Erin was wobbly on her feet and Jack was nearly incapacitated. She threw Rory over her shoulder and enlisted Toben’s help getting the three of them home.

No one thought anything of it when he piled Rory’s plate high with leftovers and set it in the basket of gifts. Only Enora noticed him break the plate to bits once they got home and toss the remains into the fireplace.