Aidan

The Realms

Thirdday, 2nd week of the 10th month, Age of the Chosen 1

Mid-Afternoon

Ceallach Macht, Mistvale Highlands

The Mist Stalkers had set up shop—literally, in one case; one of the merchants was doing brisk business out of the back of his wagon—at the eastern edge of the city core. A wary group of older Starchasers watched from a distance, but several younger centaurs and quite a few harpies mingled with the catfolk. When they spotted Aidan making his way towards them, the merchants waved and called out to him, and Chief Searlas's representative strode out of the thin mists clinging to the city streets.

Coming to a stop a respectful distance away and eyeing Aidan's bodyguards, the man bowed and greeted Aidan. "Good afternoon, Lord Aidan. Thank you for providing such a warm welcome for us. To be honest, I half-expected an angry mob, but your people have been quite civil, all told."

"I'm glad to hear it," Aidan replied. "Our path through the future lies in cooperation, not division. I apologize for waiting so long to get in touch with you; I had urgent business to attend to."

The man, Antoin was his name, laughed and winked. "Yes, so I heard. Your ... retainer Aoife let us know what happened. I can hardly begrudge your reunion with your consort; I fully intend to pounce on my wife as soon as she arrives."

Aidan blushed. He should have expected that. "Yes, well, anyway, is there anything I can for you or the other Mist Stalkers here?"

Antoin shrugged. "For us in general? Not much. We have roofs over our heads and food on our tables, and your people assure me that we will be included in future lotteries for permanent housing. That being said, my task is not to oversee our enclave here, Lord Aidan, not long-term. I serve that function for the moment, but the next caravan will have our permanent representative. My job is to assist you."

Aidan blinked. "Assist me?"

"Yes. Chief Searlas's instructions to me were two-fold. First, I am to assist you in forming a corps of serving staff, and second, I am to keep an eye on Lady Aoife's treatment. From what I've seen of you, I have little worry about that second task."

"Ohh," Aidan breathed out. "I forgot all about that, somehow."

The catfolk's lips tugged up into a smirk. "I find that enthusiastic greetings from lovely young women tend to do that to a man. Worry not, my Lord, I will still be directing matters here for another week or so. All I need from you for the moment is to decide whether you trust Lord Searlas enough to let me recruit your staff for you or whether you'd prefer to do it yourself."

I wish he hadn't phrased it that way, but it's probably a test. Seems like the kind of thing Searlas would do. "I trust Lord Searlas to look after his own interests, and those of his people, first. That said, it seems to me that there's no reason to pick one or the other. If you would put together a list of your choices, I will work on one as well from my end, and we can compare notes once you are free to address the matter more fully."

Antoin gave Aidan a fanged grin. "Well put, my Lord, and well-reasoned. I will do as you ask. I do not wish to assume—do you want your personal staff to be exclusively Starchasers, do you want to spread the positions around equally, or do you want to recruit solely according to merit?"

"Hmm." That was an interesting question. These were the people who would prepare his food, wash his clothes, clean his quarters, and be silent observers to his personal life. In short, one of the premier vectors for spies and assassins.

Starchasers would, in theory, be the most loyal to him and the least likely to betray him to outside interests. On the other hand, it would be perceived as a clear sign of favoritism by his city's people, which would reduce their support for him and his policies.

Recruiting according to merit spoke to his American ideological roots, but it had its own problems; the most competent people also tended to be the most ambitious, and ambition was not a good trait in a servant.

Equal employment was the best on a political level, but it might involve taking sub-optimal applicants depending on how the process went. It also increased the risk of inserting a spy into the ranks.

"Let's go with merit, with an eye towards diversity if two applicants have similar qualifications," Aidan finally decided.

If Antoin had an opinion on Aidan's choice, he didn't show it. "Very good, my Lord. I will send out feelers and start compiling a list. In the meantime, duty compels me to inquire about Lady Aoife."

Aidan was careful to keep his face neutral. "What do you mean?"

"As I said earlier, she apprised me of the situation yesterday, but to be honest, I expected her to be with you, my Lord. However, to the best of my knowledge, she has not been seen in your company since you parted ways yesterday morning. I am not sure where she slept last night, but it was not in your fortress. Neglect is a form of abuse, my Lord." That last came out with a certain stiffness.

Aidan frowned. "Less than a day without my presence is hardly neglect, Antoin. Especially when Aoife hasn't experienced anything approaching freedom in months. I'm giving her as much leash as I can."

"May I be blunt with you, Lord Aidan?"

Aidan cocked an eyebrow. "Go ahead."

"Lady Aoife is testing you. I have seen it time and again when a slave changes hands to a more permissive master. She is pushing the boundaries, trying to find out what will make you snap. Right now, she wants to see how long it will take before you seek her out. Next, Aoife will be rude to your or your consorts, or destructive in small ways, or something similar. In short, she wants you to define the limits."

Aidan's frown deepened. "There are no limits. I do not want—will not have—a slave. Aoife is as free a woman as I can let her be."

"Bullshit."

Antoin's reply made Aidan blink. A moment later, he felt fury boiling up inside of him. "Excuse me?" he asked in a hard, cold voice.

"Regardless of your wishes or desires, Aoife is your slave. So long as she bears that collar around her neck, her life will never be her own. You own her, and she has that fact engraved onto her soul. From her perspective, there are boundaries. Her existence is defined by them, and she will not be comfortable until she knows what they are."

Antoin paused for a second, but before Aidan could retort, the catfolk snorted and continued. "Besides, you have hold of her leash in another respect. That girl has it bad for you, my Lord. I do not know her well enough to see if it is love or lust, but she wants you to chase her. She is a woman who revels in being pursued, I think. Think about it, my Lord. She has not been particularly subtle; everyone in the caravan saw her kiss and touch you during the day, then sleep in a separate tent at night. Lady Aoife is teasing you, trying to provoke you into a response."

That brought Aidan up short, and he remembered something Aoife herself told him a few days earlier. "She still isn't a slave," he replied, although he knew it was a weak response.

"She is, and until you admit that fact to yourself, there will be a rift between you. If you are not careful, the feelings she has for you now will curdle and turn against you."

Then Antoin shrugged. "However, as you say, one day is not neglect. Your affairs are yours to conduct, Lord Aidan. I offer my advice out of thanks for the hand you extended in friendship to my people; what you do with it is up to you. As long as Lady Aoife is happy when I return to Termondoon, it does not matter how that is accomplished."

Something among the catfolk merchants seemed to catch Antoin's attention. "Duty calls, Lord Aidan. If I may be excused?"

Aidan waved his hand in dismissal. "Go ahead," he said. Watching the man leave, his frown deepened. Is he right? Does Aoife really still think of herself as a slave, and have I been mistreating her by letting her run free? Could that really be true?

He shook the thoughts free from his head with a growl. No sense falling down that rabbit hole at the moment. He still had work to do, and when he decided to find Aoife, the damned bracelet would lead him to her.

Aidan

Late Afternoon

Tracking down Ysbail took more effort. It seemed that, when not diving into the Labyrinth, the Adventurer had taken to training one of her party members, a young harpy. According to Cairi, said lessons took place in seemingly-random locations and at completely arbitrary times. Aidan ended up asking people they passed whether they'd seen Ysbail, then following the lead and inquiring there.

The sun was crowning the distant mountains in the west when they sighted Ysbail—hard to mistake, given her size—and a black-feathered harpy running around the perimeter of the city. Or, rather, the younger girl was running; Ysbail barely needed to trot to keep pace with her pupil. When the Adventurer spotted Aidan and his entourage approaching, she took her student by the shoulder and guided her to a stop a short distance from them.

"Take a break, Wulfryn. Remember to cool down with a short jog," Ysbail told to the dark-feathered girl.

"Yes, ma'am!" came the panting response. Aidan watched as the harpy, her clothes plastered to her body with sweat, began to jog in a wide circle around them.

"Welcome back," Ysbail greeted Aidan.

"Thanks, Ysbail. I hear you've been busy in the Labyrinth?"

The centaur smirked at him. "You might say that. The first stratum boss is an ugly fucker."

Aidan couldn't help but grin back. "That was quick! Did you beat it yet?"

Ysbail shook her head. "No, we just reached it on our last run, and it was late in the day. Besides, rumor was that you were due back any day, and I know from Brighid that you have a quest to kill the boss."

"I do," Aidan confirmed, "but isn't your party already full?"

"Yes and no," Ysbail replied. "I do have four others, but Ceirios is growing increasingly uncomfortable with dungeon diving. She does not have the temperament for it. For that matter, Anwn comes along out of duty rather than desire. I would gladly switch them out for you and Ailis."

"Unfortunately, I don't think I can justify having us both along. I need to kill that boss, though, so I'll happily join."

As Aidan finished speaking, the black-feathered harpy jogged over to them and collapsed against Ysbail's flank. She threw one arm across the centaur's back and used the other to wipe sweat away from her eyes. She looked maybe a couple of years older than Sunnild, with a somewhat softer build. Where Sunnild had an athlete's body, slim and toned, Ysbail's companion had wider hips, her sweat-soaked shirt clung to a slightly fuller bust, and her muscles weren't as well-defined.

"I still do not know why you will not let me fly," the younger woman complained as she caught her breath. She flashed Aidan a bright smile and gave him a half-hearted wave when she noticed him looking at her.

"Because you rely on it too much. What happens if the second stratum is all tight tunnels and you cannot get more than a few feet off the ground? Besides, it exercises a different set of muscles." Ysbail tousled the harpy's crest-feathers. "Aidan, meet Wulfryn. You asked me to involve the harpies, and she is the result. Wulf, meet Lord Aidan, the one you have been paying taxes to."

Wulfryn's eyes widened when she heard Ysbail's introduction. She pushed away from Ysbail's flank and snapped off a salute. "Wing-sister Wulfryn, at your service! Metal maven, shadow savant, support specialist, and Ysbail's number-one student!"

"You are my only student," Ysbail snarked before turning her attention back to Aidan. "She takes a bit of getting used to, but she can back up most of her boasts."

"Aw," Wulfryn's face fell.

"Oh, hush," Ysbail told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling the harpy mage against her side. "You are still my adorable apprentice." Wulfryn's face lit up at the praise, though she ducked her head and pressed it to Ysbail's side in an attempt to hide her blush.

"Anyway," the centaur continued, "you bring a lot more firepower than Ceirios, and you can heal as well, so you can take her spot. I know, I know," she said, waving her free hand in dismissal as Aidan opened his mouth, "you are not as good a healer as she is, but the extra firepower you bring will make fights shorter."

"If Anwn wants out, we can bring Sunnild along, too. She's a lot lower level, but believe me when I say that she's a fantastic defender, and I'd like to get her some experience."

"Hmmm," Ysbail mused. "I am a little worried that she will not be able to withstand attacks from the nastier critters in there, but we can give her a shot. If she works out, Labhruinn can shift to a more aggressive role."

"Thanks, Ysbail. I'm impressed with your progress and looking forward to seeing a professional at work. When are you planning to enter the Labyrinth again?"

Ysbail shrugged. "Anwn and Ceirios were the ones restricting the pace. We can go whenever you have the time. It will take us a few hours to get down to the bottom of the first stratum, so keep that in mind."

Aidan cocked his head, thinking through what he had on his plate. "How about the day after next?"

"Sounds good. We will meet you at the base of the hill at dawn in two days, then." Ysbail dropped her arm from around Wulfryn's shoulder and slapped her on the butt. "Alright, apprentice, enough rest for you. I think two more laps should do for now, then we can move on to weapon training."

With a wordless groan, Wulfryn took off again, stretching her legs as she picked up speed. Aidan raised an eyebrow at Ysbail. "Whatever happened to 'wanting a stallion who could tug at your tits while he plowed your pussy?'"

The Adventurer shrugged and grinned. "What can I say? She is cute and eager to please. Besides, that was for Brighid's benefit. Any time you want a ride, let me know." She turned and started to follow her apprentice, tail flicking from side to side in wide, revealing arcs as she went. Aidan could only shake his head in bemusement—he had enough on his plate as it was, and he was pretty sure Ysbail knew it.

Aidan focused on the bundle of information in the back of his head that represented Aoife. She was somewhere to the northeast, about a kilometer away, which put her outside the city's inhabited section. There was no single overriding emotion echoing down the link, but Aidan didn't detect any signs of distress. He hesitated for several moments, considering Antoin's words from earlier.

Should I go after her? he wondered. After everything she's been through, I want to give her space, but is that the right thing to do?

"My Lord?" Aidan's head bodyguard prompted.

Aidan grimaced and shook his head. She's okay for now, and Ailis is expecting me. "We're done here; let's head back. Doesn't pay to keep the Chancellor waiting, even if I do outrank her."

"Of course, my Lord," Ruari responded amid snickers from the women.

"Silverhair already has you house trained, eh boss?" Cairi teased.

Aidan wiggled his hand back and forth. "Ehh, a little of that, a little of the reverse. More to the point, I told her I'd join her for dinner, and I don't like being late."