The group of Dwarves, Minkies, Magee, a Lady, and her Servicer, eventually fell into mutual silence as they traversed the drafty web of tunnels for what felt like hours.

With nothing but the faint glow of torches, and only dirt above and below them, Aggie found herself being lulled into a trancelike state.

Time blurred together as they wove through identical passages, the soft padding of their feet on the dirt slowly becoming soothing to her ears.

“We are entering one of our outskirt settlements.” Someone’s voice carried back to them, nudging Aggie from her dulled state.

In the dim light, Aggie and Arlen shared puzzled frowns.

Settlement?

The sounds started small, but in what felt like another hour, they became far more raucous.

A bright as daylight light showed from around the bend at the end of the tunnel, and Aggie found herself giving a bleak chuckle to herself.

“What is it Aggie?” Arlen asked softly.

“Walking from the darkness towards the light is a little bit familiar.”

Aggie didn’t see Arlen’s fist clench at his side, but she did see the stress on his face.

She shook her head, and turned her attention back to the head of the group.

As they rounded the corner, Aggie’s jaw dropped.

Arlen too, stopped with his mouth agape and widened eyes.

They were staring at rows and rows of small dirt huts that extended out for acres in what appeared to be a massive underground cavern. Fences divided each small hut, and in front of each home was a large square garden with lush vegetables and other leafy plants.

Above each hut, extending from a large wooden rod, was a brightly glowing stone, that hurt to look at from its sun-like radiance.

These stones made the torches redundant, and so they were all put out as they walked amongst the perfectly well lit settlement.

A single path parted through the homes, and as the group walked past each quaint dwelling, Aggie then realized that aside from their own group and welcoming party, there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“We have acquired accommodations for you all in the counsel house.” Birgitte’s voice from directly behind Aggie’s shoulder made her jump out of her skin, and before Birgitte could blink, one of Aggie’s daggers had been drawn.

The Dwarf woman looked more incensed than anything, while Aggie stared with a wild panicked expression at her, then up at Tork.

The Beast Awares stepped forward, and took the knife from her.

“I’ll not have you pointing knives at my wife.” His tone was firm, but not angry.

Aggie gave a short brisk nod.

“My apologies.” She uttered, her voice coming out higher than she would’ve liked.

Birgitte wasn’t looking at her though when she waved her hand at Aggie, but instead she was looking once again at her husband with a questioning gaze.

When Aggie turned back around, she found every eye of the group on her, and she felt her cheeks brighten in color.

Arlen slowly stepped in front of her, shielding her from their stares.

“I think it’s time we all shared a brew!” Ned’s voice broke the tense silence.

“That’s the best thing you have said all day Nedley.” Declan’s reply could be heard by everyone, and so everyone turned back to the front and followed Ned.

Arlen reached behind himself, and while grasping one of Aggie’s hands, he gently tugged her along to follow him. This lasted all of 2 seconds before she snapped her hand back, and resumed her walking position beside him.

Birgitte turned to her husband as the group went on without them.

“She can’t be Magee from that reaction.” Birgitte said still frowning.

Tork nodded.

“No. Do you remember back when we liberated Ora and the others, what some of the Knights had been making prisoners do?”

Birgitte’s eyes flashed in rage at the memory.

“Yes I do.”

“Lady Beatha there was a captive to someone for months who thought it was a good idea to use her to increase bets and entertainment the same way.” Birgitte drew in a sharp breath of horror mixed with disgust, but then a startled looked crossed her face.

“Did you say Lady Beatha?” She demanded.

“I did love.”

“Everyone is gathering for her funeral above! She’s alive?!”

“She is.”

Birgitte’s eyes were wide as she stared down at the ground. Her thoughts were racing at everything.

“Did you save her from her captor?” Birgitte turned her brilliant blue gaze to her husband, her eyes cold at the memory of the prisoners she had helped Tork save.

“Yes and no. I saved her body. She had done the killing of him.”

“Her… body?”

Birgitte pressed her fingers to her temples, then sighed.

“I think we may need to forgo the festivities with everyone.”

Tork nodded.

“We do have much to discuss, but after that, I wouldn’t mind a continuation of what we just saw to-”

“Tork! Are you 2 coming?” Aggie called back at them as she stood at the doorstep of the tallest building in the entire settlement which was only a 2 story building in the world above ground.

“Beatha, I’d leave them alone for at least a day. No one needs to see that.” Declan’s voice drifted out to her and she grimaced in response in immediate understanding of his meaning.

After giving a short wave to Tork, Aggie ducked under the short doorway, and entered the counsel house.

Which she quickly realized, was in fact; the tavern.

*

Aggie did her best to ignore the stifling heat, the deafening clamor, and the lack of space as her hand clutched the only appropriately sized item in the village; the tankard.

The entire settlement appeared to have been waiting to greet them in the tavern, and after being shown where their rooms were on the second story, were instructed to:

“Sit ‘n drink ‘til we all look like handsome giants!”

She had drunk half of her first tankard, but her stomach roiled at the notion of drinking more. For some reason the ale didn’t sit well with her. It wasn’t like the ale at the Red Dawn Inn…

This ale tasted bitter and harsh…

While the ale at the Red Dawn Inn had a faint taste of apples.

She wouldn’t have disputed a spot of wine or whiskey, but didn’t deign to impose the request upon the rowdy crowd around her that alternated between toneless singing of folk songs, and exchanging insults between themselves.

It was hard to believe that mere hours before, the welcoming group that had been sent to retrieve their guests had been serene, subdued, and respectful.

They now appeared to be descendents of any beloved town drunk as they carried on.

Arlen didn’t seem to mind at all as he conversed with Ned and Reggie, laughing over whatever they were saying to him, and downing 3 tankards of his own.

Aggie felt the overwhelming loneliness rise in her. As she stared at her hand clutching the tankard, she realized with black bitterness that she had felt less alone in her cell with Ines at her side than she did amongst a jovial crowd that included her closest ‘friends’.

Aggie glanced under her lashes at Arlen to determine the likelihood that he would notice her slip away.

When she saw him showing one of his rare smiles at something Ned said all her thoughts froze.

A sudden anger rose in her, and she decided she didn’t care if he did or didn’t know she was leaving.

Aggie swung her legs over the wooden bench she had been sitting on, and stood on the dirt floor of the tavern, and squeezed her way between the Dwarves without a word of pardon when a roar suddenly erupted.

“There she is! She who rises from the dead! The one touched by the heavens! Lady Agnes Beatha!” A Dwarf perched upon one of the long wooden tables raised his tankard to her, his deep blue eyes bloodshot and his stance swaying noticeably.

The room went silent, and Aggie’s face drained of color.

“Tell us! What waits for us on the other side?”

The crowd turned their eager faces to her, and as aggravating that was for her, the one reaction she couldn’t stand the most, was Arlen’s. His face was wrought with worry and protectiveness as he stood to come to her rescue.

“Fuck that.”

Aggie hissed in her mind before in a blur, she gripped one of her throwing daggers, and launched it at the Dwarf.

He swayed out of its way, and it became lodged in the massive barrel of ale behind him that was the height of 2 fully grown men.

The Dwarf glanced behind him, then at the Lady whose pale face was marred in wrath, her breathing ragged.

He then did the unthinkable, and roared in laughter.

The entire room was clutching their sides, and weeping from their humors.

With a mix of a placating tone and fake battle cry, as though answering the demands of a toddler, the Dwarf on the table yelped, then dove into the crowd of Dwarves with his fists swinging.

The next instance the tavern appeared to be in the strangest brawl Aggie could have ever imagined. Everyone was laughing while punching one another and wrestling amongst themselves.

Aggie deftly stepped out of the way of a falling body, but suddenly felt a strong hand clasp her shoulder.

She turned and barely dodged the punch aimed at her face.

The Lady dealt a devastating knee to the assailants gut, then elbowed his temple away from her.

Her next assailant came at her using his tankard as a bludgeoning tool. She dodged the blow, and as he stumbled close to her she once again kneed his abdomen, and once he was doubled over used her elbow to knock the back of his head. This caused him to fall over her knee she had placed in front of him onto the ground.

2 Dwarves decided to try their luck with the Lady simultaneously, one approaching from behind her, one approaching from her front, Aggie didn’t move but waited patiently before she casually rocked out of the way, and the 2 careened into themselves.

A hand grabbed her side and she immediately gripped the fingers in a twist and spun away from their grasp, as she then kicked the side of their knees, and felled them instantly.

This continued until Aggie realized the room was silent, and she was sweating and panting, and there was a litter of groaning chortling Dwarves at her feet.

A few Dwarves remained standing far away from her along with Arlen, Reggie, Declan, Bonnie, the Minkies, and Tork, and Brigitte- whom had appeared at some point during the brawl without her noticing.

They all were staring at her with subtle frowns.

“What?” She demanded, her eyes going to all of them, but resting at last at Arlen, whose pained face she interpreted as pitying.

“You’re smiling.” He said the words as though choked.

Aggie hadn’t realized it.

She then found it hard to force her mouth into its normal position of grimace.

Ned suddenly appeared from behind Reggie.

“Why wouldn’t she be smiling? She just had a spot of fun!” His red cheeks and glassy eyes showed he’d had quite a bit to drink, but the levity somehow seemed to gently lessen the charged situation.

Aggie clenched her fists at her side.

They were staring at her as the audience used to when she’d been imprisoned.

They would start cheering and crying out jovial encouragement or disparaging slurs. Then, when they’d watch her fight time after time, they’d stared at her with awe, pity, and the smallest almost undetectable hint of disgust.

Aggie marched over to the barrel where her knife was lodged, removed it with a tug, and as the glowing amber liquid sprung from its home, somehow, every Dwarf previously felled was back on their feet with their tankards in hand.

They all cheered as one after the other filled their mugs under the fountain of ale.

Aggie cast a look of disappointment and anger at her ‘friends’, and forced her way through the crowd, then ducked under the doorway.

Arlen immediately move after her, while the Minkies, Tork, Bonnie, Reggie, Birgitte, and somehow, Ned, convened in a corner.

“She enjoyed fighting.” Bonnie said somberly. “A lot.”

“Well of course she did! No one is seriously hurt and we all loved getting to see how good you lot truly are with your fists! But you made it really weird for us after.” The dopey smile on Ned’s face made Tork feel like clobbering the poor fool.

“Feeling strong and secure amongst friends helps with your inner storms. Unless you all look at her like she’s a 3 headed gopher- which you all did. Then you just made her an outsider.” Ned leaned against Reggie’s arm then stared up at him.

“Have I told you that you have your mother’s beautiful eyes?”

Reggie looked towards the heavens and his cheeks burned red.

Everyone chose to ignore the last comment, then stared at each other.

“We are all a little outside of our depths when it comes to Beatha. We’ve dealt with survivors of slavery, beatings, torture, and more. We have not dealt with someone who dealt with all of that, and thereafter saw the afterlife- then became burdened with a prophecy.” Keynan pointed out sagely nodding to them all.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell her until she had healed from her time on the ship.” The Minkies Queen murmured worriedly.

“I think we all need a frank sharing of stories.” Bonnie’s announcement turned every eye to her.

“The best trust between comrades is by sharing stories, wants, hopes, and sorrows. We have all withheld from Lady Beatha, so she in turn withholds from us- if we want her trust, we must give it.” The woman had normally been entirely docile and quiet, but there was a command in her voice now that drew every ear to her.

“I agree.” The Minkies Queen supplied without a moment of hesitation.

“I believed releasing information slowly over time had been the correct move for Aggie’s growth, but now think transparency is best in order to earn her trust and help her face what she has experienced.”

Bonnie nodded with her chin held high.

Birgitte looked at her husband solemnly, then placed her hand on his chest. He covered her small one with his own, and gazed at her with such sad passion, that everyone once again pointedly ignored them.

“You seem like a neat couple! What is the secret to your happiness?” Ned asked starry eyed while looking unabashedly at Tork and Birgitte, ignoring the mood of the conversation.

Everyone shot him a withering glance- which he met with his usual brightened smile as he waited for their response.

Reggie spoke on his friend’s behalf.

“He hasn’t been formerly introduced… but this is Ned Kej, Master Craftsman and Blacksmith of Weapons of War.”

The Minkies Queen looked to the ceiling with an expression crossed between disturbance and pained weariness.

Birgitte leaned over to the woman.

“Welcome to my plight.”

*

Arlen stared at Aggie in the blackness that now settled over the settlement, with her arms clutched near her chest. He took a steadying breath, and ignored the slight spinning of his vision, knowing he shouldn’t have indulged in the tankards proffered to him by Ned.

“Aggie.” He called softly. Not knowing if she would turn around to reveal her bright angry eyes, or her crushing weepy ones.

She didn’t turn around. She gripped her sleeves harder.

“Leave me alone.” She said her voice tight and hostile.

Had Arlen not known her any better, he would’ve heeded the warning tone, but didn’t leave. Instead he slowly walked forwards until he passed by her shoulders, then turned to stare at her squarely.

“Did you enjoy the fight?” He questioned calmly as Aggie refused to raise her gaze to him.

“I did. Fuck you if you think about judging me for that I-”

“Would you like to fight more?” He interrupted calmly.

“Against you? Hardly a fair fight what with your quickening and knowledge absorption.” She mentioned acidly.

Without any rise to her anger he replied.

“I won’t quicken. Though, you surprise me. I didn’t think you’d cower against the opportunity to learn against a better opponent.”

Aggie’s eyes finally turned to him bursting with rage.

“You think you are a better opponent?!”

“You just informed me that I was.”

The Lady had nothing to say to that, but she still seemed angry.

“Don’t ever fucking look at me like you did in there.”

“How do you mean Mistress?”

Aggie looked as though she were restraining herself with great effort against strangling him.

“With pity, and disgust.” She spat, her voice hoarse with emotion.

Arlen’s face turned stony, then clasped his hands behind his back and widened his stance.

“What I saw was someone who enjoyed hurting others. What you saw me express, was deep sadness and concern that you feel you are so powerless and out of control of your surroundings, that hurting those around you give you comfort.”

Aggie reacted as though he had struck her. She backed away, her hands still gripping her sleeves, and after a single tight exhale from her nose, she turned and marched away from him. Not giving a damn that she couldn’t see a single shadow or ray of light in front of her.

*

*Long ago*

“-But Mother they do not like it!” Arlen rubbed his right eye with the back of his hand, trying to stop the welling of tears.

“Your leaders do not, but your Mistress or Master might.” She explained patiently as she knelt in front of her son and stroked the small boys head, hoping that Alexander had strolled far enough away not to hear.

“I don’t like what I see and hear- why do I need to tell them something they don’t want to know either?” He demanded his throat tightening and his mouth stretching in the undeniable beginning of a sob.

Ida glanced nervously at the doorway to her personal classroom to ensure she didn’t hear anyone listening.

Unconvinced that she was free to speak a little more carelessly to her 6-year-old son, she lowered her voice, but still watched her words.

“The right Mistress or Master will appreciate knowing the truth at all times, Arlen.” She began staring tenderly at the top of his black haired head.

“How do you know?” He cried out, his distress getting the better of him as his left hand now joined his right as he rubbed his eyes in a losing battle to control his emotions.

“I have seen it. Trust me, Arlen. You will be the Servicer to one of the greatest people alive. That means all of you will be given to them- including your true thoughts. What you see as their Servicer is more valuable than gold, for very rare individuals have a partner to bear witness to their lives.”

“Don’t most people get married?” Arlen challenged his voice choked as his mother patiently wiped away his tears and stroked his cheek affectionately with her thumb.

“They do, but very few powerful people have spouses that are actual partners.”

Ida leaned in, and kissed her son on his forehead, momentarily not giving a damn that someone might see the unseemly affection she was showing him.

“Arlen, I am so excited for you to meet your Mistress.” Her whisper was barely audible, and only her son had heard it.

“M-Mistress?” His bright brown eyes, identical to his mother’s, shone.

“You know who she is?!” Arlen’s watery smile was returned by his mother.

“She was born just recently.”

“But… but don’t the Family and myself choose together?” Arlen asked confused.

Ida’s heart thudded, without another word she blurred from in front of Arlen to the doorway and returned hastily.

“Come my dear.” She drew him tight against herself, then turned her lips to be nearly pressed against his ear.

“Trust me Arlen, and choose the Lady named Agnes Beatha. It is an important secret that you do not ever repeat to anyone, ever, under any circumstances that I told you this.”

Arlen was still very confused, but saw the seriousness in his mother’s face, and so nodded firmly with intense conviction.

After a moment of silence and staring at his mother, whom despite her shows of affection, had always been a little distant from him. Not that he could explain why he had that feeling- all of the other Servicer Mothers were far more detached from their offspring, but something always seemed even more odd to Arlen.

At that moment however, he couldn’t help himself.

He smiled, and stared with barely contained excitement at his mother.

“Will I like her?” He asked glowing.

Ida grinned gently, not wanting to give him a certainty when there was no way of truly knowing.

“You might, and she may or may not like you, but you 2 will have the best adventures. I promise.”