Chapter 16 — Colliding Interests

Yillian was annoyed.

But also conflicted.

Xyn had bailed on them and left him to deal with Ayla’s family, and Yillian had no assurance that Sir Nerel, seeking some kind of closure on his son’s death, or Ayla’s father, seeking consequences for his daughter’s kidnapping, wouldn’t just suddenly decide to have him hauled off to prison (or worse!) for whatever reason. On the other hand, not having to listen to lectures on flower this, graceful that, or being forced to endure impossible physical training… was a relief.

For one thing, he wanted to acheive an adequate grasp of the theory needed to make use of the teleport circles used by the tower, and dealing with Xyn was taking away from the time he was spending toward that. If his suspicions were correct and luck was on their side, they might be able to infiltrate the tower itself. Whether doing so was wise, Yillian had a growing feeling that the answers to what the cultists were truly planning could only be found inside the tower and that they would need those answers.

“Yillian?”

Ayla was looking at him with a bit of concern, and he arched an eyebrow in response.

“Aren’t you worried about what Xyn is up to?”

Well, it was true that Xyn was an impulsive idiot. A quick use of the medallion from Master Valence confirmed Xyn’s location. “He hasn’t gone far and seems to be staying in one place.”

“How do you-? Oh, right, the medallion.” Her eyes unfocused for a moment before her shoulders sagged in relief and she turned to address their host, “Uncle, I’m going to show Yillian around for a bit. If that’s okay?”

Her uncle frowned, but eventually nodded his permission. “Come get me if you need help accessing certain places.”

“Thank you, uncle. We’ll only take things needed for our investigation.” Ayla got up from the table and motioned for Yillian to follow.

“Thank you for your hospitality, and I’m sorry for your loss,” Yillian offered as he excused himself.

When they were safely out in the hall, Ayla spoke up, “We should check his room first, but I think I know where he might have done his research.”

Though called a room, the reality was that as the heir, Fenton’s suite comprised a sitting room for entertaining guests, a study with a modest library and desk, a bedroom, a changing room, and a bath. The nobles sure did live in luxury in this country, even if the areas for commoners tended to smell foul.

Yillian tilted his head to the side in thought. The smell in Ravenhill wasn’t particularly bad. Was the cleaner air in Ravenhill because of the land god? Or did the people in Ravenhill handle such matters differently than other human settlements?

Going through a dead man’s possessions was awkward, but Yillian made the best of it as they went from area to area rifling through drawers, checking under chairs and couches, armoires and cabinets, under his bed, and such, leaving the study for last at Ayla’s request. There wasn’t anything particularly suspicious and even the hidden ‘bolt room’ only had a pile of fiction books and preserved food and water—no teleport circle.

“Well, that was more boring than expected,” Ayla commented as she led Yillian to the desk in the study. “I have a fair confidence about this area though. There’s a hidden spot where Fenton used to hide his unmentionables when he was younger.”

Whatever ‘unmentionables’ were, Yillian wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but that didn’t stop Ayla from pulling out the bottom drawer of the cabinet next to Fenton’s workdesk and placing it to the side, leaving in plain view a suspiciously deep bottom to the cabinet. A hidden latch press and flipping up the false bottom revealed a stack of thin leather-bound books with titles in fancy script.

Chuckling for a reason that soon became apparent, Ayla casually held up each of the books using her thumb to let the colorful pages rapidly flip into view one at a time. “I’m surprised he still had these.”

Ayla smirked when he couldn't help blushing at the outrageous illustrations. Mercifully, after checking the obscene books for hidden letters or such, the girl moved on to what appeared to be a normal journal at the bottom of the stack of hidden books.

Not long into reading the first page, Ayla sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with the white lace of her shirtsleeve before passing the book to him.

Dear Ayla,

If you have found this journal, then my involvement with the cult of Xogg`Shriloth has likely led to my untimely end. Though initially driven by my goal to find my own path to strength, seeing the strength that your mother’s bloodline provided, I have focused my efforts on finding a way to turn the Shadow Raven’s power into a true bloodline for the Ravenhill family.

As I have likely been used and discarded by the cult, it is my wish that my bloodline research not fall into the cult’s hands, but rather, be made use of by our family. Though you will find a few of the books (noted below) on my bookshelves, the majority of my research materials and notes are kept in the place where I would do grandfather’s secret training.

I’ve summarized the breakthroughs and key points of my research here in this journal, so use this journal as a guide and starting point in understanding my work. Our family’s future may well rest in your hands.

Your cousin, Fenton.

Yillian paged through the neatly organized lists and overviews. The research was interesting and methodically presented but properly understanding its contents would take time.

“Are you sure you want me reading this, Ayla?” Yillian asked as his companion had restored her composure. “Much of the content involves matters that would likely be considered family secrets.”

“I suppose I could give it to Denathen—my older brother—he’s a Tower-trained mage like Fenton, but he specializes in fire magic.” The redhead’s green eyes calmly regarded him, carefully judging his reaction. “Though, for now, I’m choosing to trust you. Don’t make me regret it.”

Yillian nodded. He had to admit that between the secrets concerning the Shadow Raven and bloodline research itself, he wasn’t exactly keen on losing access to the information, investigation aside. “I’ll be discreet about what I include for reporting to the Society.”

Ayla gave him a faint smile. “Great. Let’s grab the books on the list and go see what my cousin was up to all these years.”

When they left Fenton’s rooms, Ayla led him to the rear of the training grounds and to a nondescript stone shed. After removing a trapdoor and descending into a cellar with wine and other preserved foods, they stopped at an empty cobblestone wall with black stones forming the shape of a great raven.

“Beyond here is the secret training room. Projecting my aura has always been problematic for me in the past, but I think I might be able to do it this time,” Ayla declared as she emphatically drew a glyph over the raven’s ‘eye’ with her finger.

Nothing happened.

Yillian made sure to keep a neutral but expectant face when Ayla’s gaze probed him for snickers—snickers that definitely didn’t happen, because he knew better. Yep. Thank goodness he had older sisters at the orphanage to learn from.

With a huff, Ayla tried again. Again nothing. And again.

Each time, her brow furrowed more, and Yillian thought he could almost see flames of fury drifting upward off her hair. He was definitely getting a bad feeling about continuing to be in the same room alone with the aggravated noble girl.

On the seventh try, a click sounded and after pushing the hidden door open, she turned and gave him a triumphant grin.

Yillian was again thankful to past lessons learned and knew the proper reply. With a bright smile and polite clapping, he gave the well-earned praise, “Congratulations on your success, Lady Ayla. Well done.”

With a “hmph” and a swish of her skirts, Lady Ayla turned and proudly led the way into the secret room.

The inside of the secret room was much as Yillian expected it: a raven themed altar, raven-themed wall hangings with the calligraphic ‘truths’ for the clan's martial artists to meditate upon, and various other specialized equipment no doubt for training specific techniques. Off to the side were bookcases, a desk, a small alchemy area, and the prize that Yillian was hoping to find—a teleportation circle.

“It’s a bit underwhelming compared to what I had imagined,” Ayla finally admitted after taking everything in. “When I was a little girl, I always thought it was unfair that Fenton had his own secret training place, but it’s not really all that different from the training hall.”

“The wall hangings and the scrolls on the shelves are probably secret or forbidden techniques and Master’s Inheritances reserved for worthy family members who had completed the pact with the local land god,” Yillian offered.

This wasn’t the first time he had seen such a room. Whenever Master Arienos would visit one of his martial arts master friends, the meeting was almost always held in such a room. It was a way for clan and sect elders to have a private conversation and to show off their sect’s knowledge and power.

Ayla gave him a sharp look before sighing. “Sometimes, I forget how sharp yours and Xyn’s ears are.”

Was that a joke? Like calling an elven rogue dagger ears. Not that he minded.

“If you don’t mind searching the desk and bookshelves, I’d like to take a look at the teleportation circle,” Yillian prompted, eager to get to work proving his suspicions.

“Sure...”

“What?! Kidnapped?!” Fredrick blurted out turning dagger-like eyes in Xyn's direction before the rest of the statement registered. “My Alya's here?!”

Fredrick's claim of possession over Ayla annoyed Xyn, but he ignored the excitable human for now and kept his attention on the black-haired human at the head of the table.

Judging by the strength of the man’s aura and the red-maned female sitting to his left, that human was likely Ayla’s father, but it would be embarrassing to be wrong, so Xyn simply asked, “Are you Ayla’s father?”

Some of the humans at the table bristled at his apparent failure to observe proper etiquette, but the human he suspected to be Ayla’s father inclined his head slightly, “Baron Orthal Ravenhill. I am indeed Ayla’s father.”

Though worried about the extent of the human’s foreknowledge, Xyn knew there was nothing to do but press on even if he was beginning to doubt the wisdom of his impulsive action.

Xyn gave the human a formal bow and then saluted with both fists together as a show of respect for the man’s greater strength. “I am Xyn. Ayla is strong and would be a valuable asset to my clan. I have come to claim Ayla as my mate and to seek your blessing of my claim.”

“What?! Mate?!” Fredrick was on his feet and pointing, his face turning red. “Beautiful Lady Ayla is already spoken for, a refined flame of grace and feminine poise, and you would lay claim to her as if she were a beast of burden?! Are you a barbarian?!”

“Now, now, Frederick. There is no need to insult a guest that has journeyed far and is unlikely to be aware of our way of things.”

Fredrick stared at Ayla’s father with an expression that could only be stunned disbelief.

The human who was Ayla’s father continued, “Normally, the proposal and details of such matters would be handled in private letters and with intermediaries in order for both sides to avoid awkwardness should a refusal be necessary. The public declarations are a formality performed after achieving the agreement of both sides. As you can see, your public declaration puts me in the position of publicly offending a visiting guest.”

Xyn bowed again. “My apologies, Baron Ravenhill. After hearing about the imminent nature of Baron… Hamlin’s claim, and having some understanding of Lady Ayla’s feelings on the matter, I felt a need to act boldly and directly with speed. If it means securing your blessing, I am willing to accept the risk of public humiliation.”

Having recovered from his initial shock, Fredrick seemed to have restored his confidence, scoffing with his nose raised, “Perhaps Baron Orthal’s reply was too polite for you to understand. A refusal couched as advice remains a refusal. And yet you have sullied my fellow baron’s act of good will by trampling on it with stunning arrogance. The ardor that lovely Ayla and I share is a bond of a grand magnitude to the extent that I have promised an entire mining village as my earnest gratitude. What can you even offer the baron in thanks for his beloved prize?”

Xyn felt panic and despair rising at his colossal oversight. A gift? To compare with an entire village?! There wasn’t anything he could offer. Promising to pay riches when he gained fortune would be rightly laughed at. He couldn’t even offer a favor from his clan. The only say he had in the affairs of Clan Cloudstrike was through his parents…

“Cat got your tongue,” Fredrick taunted.

Ayla’s father, however, kept silent and was observing Xyn carefully, watching for his response. There was still a chance.

Was there anything he could promise that his parents could deliver…? No, wait. That’s not right, he wasn’t a Cloudstrike, but rather a Hiddensnow. And completing his mission with such success would earn both him and Ayla’s family significant favor from the Hiddensnow clan. But would vague promises be enough…

Pushing down his doubt, Xyn recalled Yillian’s and Ayla’s reactions to his grandmother’s identity. He was no longer a weakling amongst Cloudstrike warriors, but the disciple of a master considered a legend among the humans. If Lorel’s Watch represented the strength of a human village, what was that compared to the strength of a single Kyrren hunter? Much less that of a hidden clan—a founding pillar of the Kyrren kingdom!

“My apologies again, Baron Ravenhill. I was stunned by the paucity of Baron Hamlin’s gift,” Xyn boldly judged with disdain in his voice, his heart beating fiercely at the audacity of his gambit.

Gasps were heard from around the table, and Fredrick began to sputter in impotence, but those weren’t the opinions that mattered.

Ayla’s mother seemed receptive to his argument, and feeling encouraged by the slight smirk that appeared on Ayla’s fathers face, Xyn released his aura into the room and pressed on, “Is a single village all that Lady Ayla with her Fire Element and warrior’s spirit is worth to you, Baron Hamlin? A single of my clan’s warriors could lay waste to such without even breaking a sweat. What worth is that? Lady Ayla herself could lay waste to such a village.”

At the pressure of his aura, some at the table had reached for weapons they weren’t wearing. Not wanting to push too far and having made his point, Xyn pulled back his aura and continued with more confidence, “As I have said, Lady Ayla would be a valuable asset to our clan, and in our gratitude, we would repay such value in kind. Lady Ayla is a warrior of strength and promise equivalent to my own. Do you even have anything you can offer that compares, Baron Hamlin? Can you even provide masters for her training?”

“Delicate and perfect Lady Ayla… training? A warrior?” Fredrick looked pale at the thought.

How could Fredrick have not noticed? Did he only want her for such selfish reasons as beauty and pride?!

Xyn felt his anger rising at the shallowness of the soft human’s claim. “How can you make a serious claim to Lady Ayla if you lack the strength to protect her from enemies that would be a threat to her? I challenge you to a duel of honor to prove your worth! If your champion cannot even defeat me, then of what merit is your claim?”

Xyn Petal-stepped to the dining hall’s empty space that was probably used for dancing and entertaining, drawing his sword and filling it with aura as he pointed it at Fredrick.

The human warrior seated beside Fredrick quickly moved in front of his lord, his chair clattering to the floor in his haste. One of Ayla’s father’s men had also stood and readied his aura.

Xyn worried that he definitely went way too far this time, and silently berated himself for losing his cool. If Fredrick chose Ayla’s father as his champion, Xyn didn’t have any confidence of winning. But choosing a parent to stand in as the champion was usually only done when a family wanted to make an example out of the suitor and strongly reject the claim… or when the father wished to test the claimant’s suitability himself.

“You… you dare?!” Fredrick gasped out in anger at the slight, but was glancing back at Ayla’s father as if asking for help.

To Xyn’s dismay, Ayla’s father frowned. “Disciple Xyn, while I’m not denying your right to demand a duel, it is generally considered exceptionally rude to engage in a duel without the host's permission.”

Fredrick seemed relieved.

Though, like before, Ayla’s father did not outright deny the duel but was giving a chance to be convinced. Xyn suspected that he needed to carefully word his request if he was to be given this chance. “With your permission, Baron Ravenhill, I would seek redress from the Baron of Hamlin for the disregard he has shown toward the work and achievements of both your daughter and her master.”

“…master?” Fredrick asked, confused, and glanced at Ayla’s father, “Orthal, what is he talking about?”

Ayla’s father gave Fredrick an exasperated look. “Fredrick, you are seeking my daughter and aren’t even aware that she’s an Honorary Knight by merit?”

“She is? Ah! I mean, er… that’s wonderful! You must be justifiably proud, congratulations!”

Both of Ayla’s parents appeared annoyed at Fredrick’s response, and even Fredrick had the sense to be obviously dismayed at his mistake, perhaps beginning to realize that he had indeed insulted Ayla and her family’s honor.

“Young Master Xyn, I’m hardly of the mind that Baron Hamlin’s slight merits death to assuage honor, what conditions are you seeking?”

“Wha-?” Fredrick voiced out in worry.

Xyn was beginning to feel confident that the situation was turning in his favor, but his normally cautious nature warned him not to be too greedy here. “A standard match with aura-blunted weapons and non-lethal techniques. Damage to your beautiful home results in forfeiture. Victory is achieved when one side yields or is convincingly defeated.”

Ayla’s father nodded approvingly, and the corner of his mouth might have twitched upward a bit. “I will allow a duel with those conditions.”

“Orthal, you can’t be serious?!” Fredrick blurted out in shock, giving the other baron a look of betrayal.

Baron Ravenhill raised an eyebrow. “Surely, you desire to take advantage of this chance to defend your honor, Fredrick, do you not?”

“Milord, as your knight, allow me the privilege of defending your honor against this arrogant foreigner!”

Regaining some of his composure as the realization that he wouldn’t have to physically participate in the duel sunk in, Fredrick placed his hand on his knight’s shoulder. “Loyal Dyne, as always, I am grateful for your service. The skill of our barony’s knights has also been brought into question. My honor and our knights’ honor are both in your hands. Represent us well with your skill.”

“I will, milord!”

The same attendant that was chasing the carriage earlier in the day stepped forward to hand the knight his sword.

“I assume neither of you has any objection to Sir Wendal judging the duel?” Ayla’s father confirmed, indicating the knight who had stood when Xyn had used his Petal-step.

Xyn certainly didn’t have any reason to object. What could the judge do to disadvantage him other than rule his premature defeat, but Xyn didn’t see any indication that Ayla’s father desired such an outcome.

“Positions,” Sir Wendal called out once he had taken up a position halfway between the duelists but out of the field of battle and been brought his sword as well.

Sir Dyne unsheathed his sword and made ready. That Sir Dyne’s sword was crystal was extremely interesting, particularly when the Hamlin knight's aura was Light Element. Xyn had fought Light Element scouts and shamans before in the dueling competitions that happened during the Spring and Autumn festivals and was quite curious to see the human’s fighting style.

“Ready?” Sir Wendal queried and, receiving confirmation, announced the duel start, “Begin!”

The human knight started out with a flash of light, blinding Xyn, as predicted. Xyn left a mist clone to take the hit as he Petal-stepped out of the line of attack and filled the area with aura to keep track of his environment and his opponent.

Fighting blindfolded was something that Grandma Kaylie had forced Xyn to do early on in his discipleship to improve aura-sensing, and he tended to use his aura to stay aware of the of his environment more than his eyes at this point in his mastery of the Path of Dancing Petals.

The knight’s crystal sword lit brilliantly before slicing through Xyn’s clone from under the ribcage and out the shoulder.

Ouch. That would have hurt. The knight’s movements weren’t bad either.

Xyn caught the room’s light on his sword just in Sir Dyne’s view and Petal-stepped to stay out of the knight’s line of sight as the human spun about to face the sudden threat.

Deciding to test Sir Dyne’s defense, Xyn directed a quick stab at the back of the knight’s neck only for it to be deflected and countered at the last second. A rapid exchange of deflected strikes from each side followed before Xyn disengaged, sending another mist clone to flank the knight.

The knight’s reaction speed and accuracy were quite good even if his aura detection range might be short. Xyn found himself enjoying the fight. Not quite as much as when sparring with Ayla, but his opponent was just challenging enough to give a thrill of danger.

Xyn was confused when Sir Dyne held his sword vertically and a bit to the side while waiting to receive the expected attack but couldn't help chuckling upon realizing that the knight was using the reflection in the crystal to see attacks from behind.

A swarm of petals began to whirl around as Xyn used the Petals’ Caress technique, distracting as Xyn’s sword strikes darted in from increasingly difficult to deflect angles. Two of the strikes landed before a flash of aura inside Sir Dyne’s body and sword, warned Xyn to Petal-step back just in time to avoid a lightning quick cut that actually caught a fair bit of his robes.

Close!

The two landed strikes were Rippling Strikes and had disrupted Sir Dyne’s aura enough that Xyn risked the aura expenditure for the Passion of the Sorrowful Rose. The knight cried out as illusionary thorns wrapped his limbs and previously harmless petals from the Petals’ Caress began to slash at him making blood-weeping illusionary cuts that would sap his stamina and will to fight.

While concentrating on restraining Sir Dyne’s aura and maintaining the Passion of the Sorrowful Rose’s mind attack, Xyn felt a sudden pain in his back as a coin-sized hole burnt into his clan robes.

Wha-?

Xyn looked around in surprise for the source of the attack only to find Fredrick with a furrowed brow and a finger pointed at him hidden from the view of the others. A questioning glance directed at Sir Wendal was met with a shrug(!).

Was that how it was going to be?! Wait…

Xyn mentally facepalmed. He never specified that Fredrick couldn’t help his champion! It wasn’t against the rules!

A sudden flash from Sir Dyne brought Xyn’s attention back in time to deflect a strike from the knight, who had freed himself from the illusion.

Groaning at his carelessness, Xyn released his aura-expensive techniques and focused on deflecting the knight’s attacks and conserving aura. Sir Dyne's aura was already mostly expended, so a defensive fight was to Xyn’s advantage even if Fredrick assisted from the sidelines.

Besides, having dealt with long range Light Element opponents before, Xyn had a plan for that, and when an increasingly desperate Fredrick pointed a finger at him again, Xyn used Love’s Blossom (and carefully positioned lenses made of mist) to redirect the beam back at him.

Amusingly, Fredrick’s surprised “Eeep!” brought a chuckle from Ayla’s mom, and Xyn couldn’t help feeling proud of himself.

{Xyn! Where are you? Ayla’s fighting two cultists that suddenly showed up and she’s barely holding them off!}

“Yillian?! What do you mean Ayla’s fighting two cultists?!” Xyn exclaimed, then repeated the question through the amulet.

Xyn couldn’t afford to just abandon the duel, but if Ayla was in danger, he couldn’t delay either! He was getting low on aura too!

{Hurry!}

Shit!

Xyn wove a Breath of Sleep and unleashed it on Sir Dyne, and when the knight focused his aura to fight off the drowsiness, Xyn overwhelmed the sluggish defenses with Rippling Strikes until he could place his blade against the knight’s throat.

Fredrick was yelling something, wanting to know what Xyn meant about Ayla being in danger, but as soon as the sound of Sir Wendel’s pronouncement of victory reached his ears, Xyn bowed in the direction of Ayla’s parents and fled the manor.

Baron Orthal Ravenhill glanced over at his scarlet-haired wife after Fredrick and his attending knight had also hurriedly left to provide aid to Ayla. “What do you think, Remia?”

“I think Ayla’s always been less than keen on marrying Fredrick. Honestly, I had been hoping that he would turn out more like his father.” Remia paused and glanced over at the open doors that the half-Kyrren had vanished through. “Do you think Ayla’s really in danger?”

“I can’t imagine that old man Garrin would have let the intruders into his estate without monitoring the situation. There’s no way he would allow Katrine and Marley to be endangered, after all.”

Remia nodded, relieved. “That’s true.”

Orthal continued, “I suspect he’s testing Ayla and her companions, and using the encounter to learn more about the intruders.”

“I understand the reasons, but it still makes me nervous.”

The baron reached over and placed his hand over his wife’s to show support. “If this is the life she would choose, then it’s important to see that she has the strength to stand on her own.”

“You can’t honestly be thinking about giving your blessing to that Xyn boy?”

Orthal laughed. “Can’t say a beast race would be my choice for Ayla’s suitor, no. Perhaps, we should leave it up to Ayla this time though? After all, the boy was not wrong. What is the value of a single village compared to the favor of a clan with possible ties to the Kyrren royal family? Even just opening up direct trade could have exceptional value. Still, it would have been nice to have that iron mine…”

“Suppose we could try for another red-headed daughter…” Remia offered coyly.

“Ha!” Orthal smirked. “Can’t say I’m opposed, but if the gods choose to bless us with a boy, are you sure you’re up for raising another little terror?”

“Raising Bennan and Denathen wasn’t that bad; I’ll make do even if such is the case. Still…” Remia took out Ayla’s letter from her sleeve’s inner pocket—a letter that Ayla had somehow arranged for Count Arden to give to Sir Devin and had been delivered in the morning when the knight rushed back to report Ayla’s kidnapping.

Opening the letter, she let her eyes again proudly judge the lady-like calligraphy and its contents.

Father,

Let me start off by apologizing to Sir Devin and Liam. An opportunity to learn the truth about what happened to Fenton presented itself, and I staged my kidnapping in order to take advantage of that opportunity. The reality is that I have involved myself with an organization called the Cartographer’s Society. They are actively investigating the cult responsible for the incident at Lorel’s Watch and seem to be connected to powerful foreign actors.

My two companions for this investigation are Xyn, a half-Kyrren grandson and disciple of the Eternal Flower, Kaylie of the Thousand Faces, a supposedly famous explorer and master of the Way of the Dancing Petals, and Yillian, a young elf mage apprenticed to a master mage named Arienos. Xyn’s brother is apparently courting one of the Kyrren princesses, if I understood the conversation correctly.

Yillian’s master is the lead authority within the organization in charge of the cultist investigation and seems concerned about an imminent and rapidly growing danger to the region resulting from the cultists’ activities. It may be prudent to take steps to prepare for an unexpected threat. Assuming Count Arden isn’t involved, I will advise him about my discoveries should the worries prove founded.

Notwithstanding their seemingly benevolent actions in regard to the cultists, I am concerned about the Cartographer’s Society’s goals and activities within our kingdom. The local master, an explorer and apparent scholar named Jed Valence has hinted at recruiting me into the organization, and I am giving serious consideration to joining them so that we can have someone on the inside who can raise a warning should they act against the kingdom or our interests.

While I am not abandoning my oath to king and country, as my commitment to my current course of action may make me unavailable for muster should you need to provide your quota of knights for service to the king, I would understand if revocation of my honorary title would prove necessary for political or practical reasons.

With love,

Ayla

“Our little fireball sure has grown-up, hasn’t she?” Remia mused, half to herself.

“Does seem so,” Orthal wistfully agreed.