“Now, now, don’t be difficult,” chided Carnes as they laid a hand on its hide, to which the creature snorted and turned away from Efrain.

“As for your remark, it’s a hardly new design on my part. I came up with it decades ago, if I recall correctly. It was in development around the last time I visited you.”

Carnes gave a final few tugs at the various bindings, then floated up onto the creature’s back.

“By the way, I left one for you in your stables. It should take quite nicely to you, should you choose to go for an excursion.”

“I’d love to, save for…” Efrain waved at the hole some ways behind them.

“Oh yes, best of luck with that,” said Carnes as they tugged on the reins. The ‘horse’ tossed its head and snorted as it felt the tugs and began to turn toward the open gates

“We should do this again. It is always an enjoyable time when you are around, Efrain.”

“I hope next time doesn’t have similar construction expenses.”

Carnes giggled as their mount plodded toward the opening, Efrain walking alongside them.

“Then maybe consider the idea we discussed earlier. I think that getting out might help your disposition. I have not noticed a change from the last time I came here, barring the hole in your ceiling, and I do not think that is a good thing.”

“What, ten years ago? That’s not a long time.”

For the first time, the flesh lord frowned at his words.

“Efrain, it has been nigh on four decades since last I came here. In any case, until we meet again.”

Before Efrain could ask what exactly Carnes meant, they shifted back in the saddle as the creature below picked up speed. Within a minute, the rider was a distant figure, disappearing around a bend in the path. Efrain was left by the entrance to the gate, glancing around as he considered the words. He walked to the edge of the path to his castle, peering down into the forest in the valley some way below. Nothing seemed to be particularly different, perhaps the trees were slightly higher, but apart from that…

He walked back into the courtyard and back into the main hall, now cleared of rubble. The hole above had been sealed with the addition of several planks, returning the hall into familiar darkness. Something felt off though, as if a thin trickle of light was buzzing at the back of his spine. He sighed as much as he could as he sunk into the sundered throne. Poetics had somehow found its way back onto the armrest, likely Plesco’s or a Librarian’s intervention no doubt. He raised it up to glance at the scratched leather and the dulled brass clasp.

Had it really been forty years? And if the period between Carnes’s visits had felt so short, just how long had he’d been out of the way? Efrain began to parse through a timeline, trying to piece together significant events, mostly by venue of completed book titles. As he was nearing the hundred year mark, he heard something pad across the floor.

The torches glimmered into light as sparks swirled through the room, illuminating a cat that sat before the throne, it’s coal-black fur glimmering red and yellow at their tips. The cat’s amber eyes glimmered as its displeasure radiated out at him.

“Now you said,” said an older woman, seemingly from nowhere, “you had ‘allocated more than enough resources to prevent unwanted visitors’.”

“Fine, you were right. If you wanted something out of it, you should’ve bet on it,” answered Efrain as he placed the book down carefully, “speaking of which, where were you during all this, Innie?”

“Innialysia,” the cat corrected him as her tail twitched, “I was in the valley, taking care of my charges, as is my way.”

Wisp-mothers were nothing if not committed, but that also meant they were obstinate as a rule. At this rate, Efrain might very well have stumbled across a legendary three-cup day.

“You didn’t hear the crash of my roof imploding?”

“My clearing isn’t exactly close, Efrain,” she said as she began to groom a paw, “and you know full well I sense magic power far more keenly than any other thing. For all I knew, it was one of the lumbering towers of muscle knocking over a vase.”

“Hmm,” said Efrain as he ran a finger over the book cover, “but you did feel that paladin flinging her sword at me, didn’t you?”

“Why do you think I’m here? Also, since when have you invited paladins to your domicile?”

“Ah, I’m touched. Alas, said paladin rang my doorbell a little too hard and brought down my pendulum on top of her.”

“So that’s why you’ve got all the holes in your floor. Where is she now?”

“Her body’s been taken by Carnes back to Angorrah.”

“A flesh lord and a paladin at the same time,” she said as she moved on the other paw, “what a fun day you’ve had.”

“That’s not how I’d put it,” Efrain said, “anyways, I doubt you make the trip here solely for your concern.”

“It’s three days to ratification. I came to see if the agreement was still in effect.”

“Is it that time already? Well, I know of no action that would violate any terms that I have undertaken since the last ratification. I wish to ratify the agreement once again as written to be reviewed in one year’s time,” Efrain said.

“I know of no action that would violate any terms that I have undertaken since the last ratification. I wish to ratify the agreement once again as written to be reviewed in one year’s time,” repeated Innie.

The language was strictly unnecessary, given that they held a verbal agreement rather than an actual contract. They had however agreed some time ago, that it was probably best for clarity to enshrine it in the formal convention. Efrain decided not to point out that there should be additional qualification for the early-than-usual renewal.

“It’s lovely that at least one surprise isn’t here to make my life worse. Are you going to return back to the valley now?”

“Yes, If I leave for too long, the young ones-”

A dozen eyes blinked from the dark, as a parade of cats came forward from the shadows. A chorus of mewling began as they approached their larger, warmer cousin.

“Ah, well, I suppose I could stay a little longer,” she said, as they began to curl up before her.

“The queen returns to her neglected court,” Efrain remarked dryly, “I might join you soon. I think I need a change in scenery. By the way, while you’re here, how long have I been in the Vale?”

Innie glanced at him, confusion clear at the question as she cocked her head.

“Almost two hundred winters now,” she said as she led her retinue off to one of the many side passages. She’d long kept a sleeping alcove there, on the off chance that she stayed for longer than a few moments. As she left, the torches extinguished, plunging the hall back into darkness.

Efrain leaned back into the throne, drumming the cover of the book as he stared at the vaulted ceilings. Two hundred-years. Had it really been so long? He knew that he could become lost in his library, but this was truly something else. Speaking of, he needed to go review the financial for the prospective repairs. With an irritated groan, he rose from his throne to wander off into the southern wing.

The library was by far Efrain’s favourite place in the castle. He’d even had his ‘throne’ in it, until some pyromaniac had nearly burned down the thing. Said adventurer, or whatever he’d been, found out very quickly that Efrain quickly took exception to book burners.

There were a set large windows, one of the few original structures to still stand. They likely meant to display some measure of power or wealth considering the material costs of transporting glass this far from the coast. Unfortunately, such considerations were secondary to Efrain’s headaches, and therefore the windows were mostly covered by thick curtains. This served to drench the shelves and shelves of obsessively organized volumes in a heavy gloom.

Efrain whispered a small apology to Abstract Poetics for its treatment as he slid it back into its place among its siblings. The book offered no absolution as he called over one of the creatures that called the library their domains. Robes filled with scratchings dragged over the floors, as the thing loamed over him, face and body completely covered by the folds of paper. It’s long limbs hung limp by its sides, finger tips glinting as the grafted pen tips caught the light. Efrain took a moment to glance up and down the silent being, waiting patiently for orders. He felt like he was beginning to understand just what Carnes was talking about.

“The financial records of the castle, whatever volume is the most current,” he said with a wave of the hand. Fortunately, he didn’t have to use any extra magic, as the librarian was likely the second most intelligent thing in the castle, possibly apart from Plesco. The thing drifted away to the offices underneath the first level to retrieve the requested records, leaving Efrain to slump into one of the chairs near the fire pit.

Moments later, a thick text was lowered carefully on the table near him, with an inkwell and pen. He thumbed through the pages until he managed to come to a page with a blank line. He examined the various tables and lines of numbers, and scratched his temple out of habit. His coffers proved to be unsettlingly drained - maybe it really had been two hundred years.

He tapped the page as he considered his options. The few residents that lived near him in the Vale wouldn’t pay any tax he levied, even if he actually was a ‘baron’. Raids were a possibility, but adding fuel to the rumours at this juncture seemed a poor idea. As for some stage-craft or scams, that would require him to visit a town or city himself, as lower undead were not known for their charm. Either way, he needed to find a merchant to see what kind of currency was no in place for the wider continent. It was all very well to estimate rates of inflation and the devaluation of assets as a mental exercise, but some things were better learnt first-hand.

Efrain sat back in the chair and glanced out through a sliver in the curtains. He could see the curves of the cliffs just outside the gate, and beyond them a fragment of the mountains of the Giant’s Spine. A certainty began to creep up his spine - things were going to change, far quicker than he might like.