Varsis started to leave the Fortress late in the night, for home. He had domestic business to manage, now that he was finished with the Council. There were plans to look over, old contacts to find, and, on the route, servants to yell at, as Varsis found that in his absence, the few rooms in the Fortress that Hisa had long ago devoted to him were currently being used by custodians to store cleaning supplies. Varsis had rarely used those rooms, even when he had been living in Xiater, so he could see how the servants had made the mistake, but still, he had to protect what was his. The day he gave something up for no reason would be the day that began his decline.

Varsis’ grandfather had told him that. A grandfather he now desperately wanted to see. It had been too long.

Varsis, tired of the pomp and ceremony that had accompanied his Fortress entrance, intimidated the servants into finding him a horse. It was neutered, and rather placid for a male, but it bore him well, out to his villa on the outskirts of the city.

Varsis’ villa was flat, with only one story, but it extended vastly in all directions. Wasted space equaled affluence, and Varsis had never lacked that. His mother’s coins only stopped flowing to him when the Makini government started paying him for his services as a general. In another way, the Makini government’s money also belonged to Hisa, but Varsis preferred to think that he had reached a stage in his life where he was self-sufficient.

Varsis rode up to his villa, and then gave over the horse to a servant.

“New acquisition, sir?” asked the man.

“New acquisition.”

Varsis then set himself about the task of finding his grandfather. Varsis was sure the man was in a garden somewhere, but that helped matters very little. His villa had literally dozens of gardens in open air spaces within it, and every time Varsis returned to his house, he found more and more on the periphery. His grandfather loved gardens.

Varsis asked two of his servants where his grandfather might be found, but after they gave contradicting answers, he sent them back to their duties, and looked on his own.

After some time, Varsis found his grandfather sitting on a hard wooden bench in the central aviary, surrounded by plants and birds. Varsis’ grandfather, the great Oneako is Hakshi, had his eyes closed, and meditated with his hands on his lap.

Oneako was well preserved. His hair was white, and he had long since abandoned the practice of shaving, so he had a long white beard as well, but other than that, he did not look as his seventy years would suggest. Oneako’s wrinkles were at a minimum, and his muscles still had strength.

In another moment, Oneako responded to his grandson’s presence. He opened his eyes. “Come sit, Varsis,” he said, patting the area on the bench beside him.

Varsis did as he was asked. “It’s been a long time, grandfather,” he said. “Too long, I think.”

“Of course not, Varsis,” said Oneako. “You must remember, a year is not to me what it is to you.”

“But regardless, grandfather,” said Varsis, “I still missed you.” They hugged lightly, patting each other on the back.

“So tell me,” said Oneako, “how are things in the greater world? I am content to play at the duties of a wife, ordering servants around, and waiting for the joy of my life to return to his home, but I am curious to know what I am missing.”

“Hisa has ordered the Makini to war,” Varsis quickly provided.

“Oh, I know that,” said Oneako. “I would have to be a senile fool to miss as much. I care about your exploits, Grandson. You were always my favorite of all my spawn. I didn’t move into any of my other grandchildren’s houses, did I?” His eyes sparkled. “I care about your exploits.”

Varsis went into detail about what he had done in the past year, but stopped when he reached his decision to kill Maiako.

“My children always had to make hard decisions,” said Oneako. “Some have made them better than others. None of my children followed in my footsteps. They all used my fame to become government officials, warriors only in name. And so on with my grandchildren. Besides you, only Hisa became anyone of note.”

Varsis and his grandfather chuckled at the understatement. They both knew well that the former’s mother and the latter’s daughter was the de facto ruler of the Makini.

“You shouldn’t worry about your decision so much,” said Oneako. “What’s done is done, and you thought you would be saving many more lives.”

“So you don’t approve of my decision?” asked Varsis.

Oneako signed. “Redie!” he called, and a brilliantly red bird swooped down from one of the trees, and landed on Oneako’s outstretched fingers.

“What kind of bird is that?” asked Varsis. He had never seen its like before.

“It’s a parrot,” said Oneako. “All the nobles around here started getting them, so I went and saw what my and your combined monies could buy. Somewhere around this place, we have a dozen of them. They come from the rainforests in the far south. I campaigned there, many years ago.”

The parrot reached up with one leg, and scratched itself. Despite himself, Varsis smiled.

“And that’s not all this bird can do,” said Varsis’ grandfather. “Redie, say something.”

“Something,” the parrot chirped.

At hearing a bird speak, Varsis couldn’t control himself. He laughed.

“And that’s not all he can say,” said Oneako, smiling.

“Not all, not all,” said Redie.

“Are parrots intelligent?” asked Varsis.

“No one thinks so,” said Oneako. “They just tend to spit back what they hear. In fact, having the birds around spawned a new verb around these parts. To parrot is to repeat what another has said. Fly,” said Oneako, and the parrot went back to the tree it had come from.

Varsis found himself thinking about military applications of the parrot. If they could be trained to fly to certain places, they could convey messages to battle commanders. They would be useful at times when soldiers didn’t have a chance to write a message down, and attach it to an owl or carrier pigeon. “Is there any particular reason you showed me the bird?” he asked his grandfather.

“Not particularly,” said Oneako. “I just showed you the bird to brighten your mood. It was clear you are upset at the choice you made. Now,” he asked keenly, “you have told me what you intended to do. What actually happened?”

Varsis explained how, at the last moment, Maiako had told him that it would be dishonorable for him to kill her, and how he had taken the coward’s way out, and asked Graven to do the deed. He then explained what happened to Graven.

“I am sorry for his loss,” said Oneako.

“Grandfather,” said Varsis. “You never told me if the thing I wanted to do was the right thing.”

“One only can guess at what is truly right,” said Oneako. He suddenly sounded his age. “When I fought directed armies, and fought battles in my prime, I tried not to question the morality of my orders. Perhaps it is nothing but the old man in me that is saying this, but if I had been in your place, I would not have tried to kill her. I am glad that she is still alive.”

What Oneako said was a deep blow to Varsis. “But…what of the man that saved Maiako?”

“He sounds like a dashing gentleman,” said Oneako, “as yourself. Perhaps he is you conscience?”

“This isn’t funny, Grandfather,” said Varsis. “The man killed Graven. I want him dead.”

“In my life, I have seen vengeance ruin far more lives than I care to think about,” said Oneako, “and not just the lives of those who have done the wrong. Let your anger rest.”

Varsis breathed a calming breath. “I will try, Grandfather,” he said. “I will try. In the same tune, what do you think of Hisa’s bid for conquest? Today I met with the Council, and she asked me to be a part of it.”

“Morality has abandoned these troubled times,” said Oneako. “As for the logistics of it, I think our House has a chance to win. The only group that actively opposes us, as of now, is the army of Ehajdon, comprised of the Minsu and, soon enough, the Vedil. We have a greater army than the boot-lickers and the religious fanatics put together.” The general in Oneako was starting to come out, and the old man was fading.

“I agree with you, Grandfather,” said Varsis, glad the discussion had not continued in the vein it had been going in before.

“Care to spar?” asked Oneako. The talk of war seemed to have invigorated him. He got up from the bench, and picked up the two quarterstaffs leaning against the closest tree. He threw one to Varsis, who caught it.

Varsis got up from the bench. He bowed, and his grandfather did the same. And then the battle was on.

With any other old man, Varsis would be horrified at the thought of striking at them with all his skill and speed. But not Oneako. It was said he had lost much, over the years, but he still retained much, as well.

Strike, clatter. Amongst the trees, the two combatants circled, startling the birds into flight with the sound of wooden staff slamming against wooden staff.

Varsis tried for an attack coming from high up in the air, and rained down blows upon Oneako. And it seemed the old man was faltering.

But Oneako had taught Varsis all of what he knew, and he was not out, yet. Calculating, the old man retreated, feinted a strike to Varsis’ right side, then struck an actual blow to his left. It was blocked, but with that strike, the momentum of the battle had changed. The battle had turned in Oneako’s favor.

Varsis repulsed attack after attack, spinning his quarterstaff with such skill that a passing servant stopped to stare at the combatants in awe. But he found each strike of Oneako’s was coming closer and closer to hitting its mark.

But Varsis was one to work with his assets, and the truth was, he was not tired. Not at all. He blocked Oneako’s attacks with greater and greater strength, and hacked out between them, forcing the old man to defend himself.

Oneako increased his tempo, as well, until the battle was one of fluidity and constant motion. It would have been a dance, were not both participants trying to defeat each other. However, each was hard-pressed, as it was hard to defeat an opponent that knew almost all of the moves the other would use.

That in mind, Varsis tried something new, attacking in the Tiger style he had picked up during his last year in the Imperial City, filled with a variety of repetitive, hard strikes, followed by sudden withdrawal. Oneako rose to the challenge masterfully, until…

“Stop!” his cry rang out.

Varsis froze in mid-swing, expecting this, as it had happened many times in recent years.

“I fear I no longer have the strength to go on,” said Oneako, putting his quarterstaff down.

Varsis did as well, and they sat down again, and for all the world it seemed as if neither had even attempted an exertion. Varsis’ grandfather knew to stop before he showed the weakness of age.

“Good fight,” said Oneako. “I have learned some things from you, today.”

“And I from you, Grandfather,” Varsis replied.

But then, the servant who had stopped to watch them, instead of going on his way, came over. He acknowledged Varsis and Oneako with a bow, and then spoke. “Something horrible has happened, my lord Varsis.”

Varsis knew that if something as such was said, it was not said idly. He sprang to his feet. “What happened?” he growled.

“Your lover…and that new man, Roin, who came here to be trained. She…”

“She what, man?” asked Varsis. “Speak up.”

“The water-witch killed him,” said the servant quietly.

Varsis knew there had to be more to the story than that, but he didn’t have the time to wait. He bowed to his grandfather. “I fear I must leave you,” he said. “But do not worry, I will return.”

“I believe you,” said Oneako. He was one of the few who seemed not to care about what Ana was. Indeed, at times he seemed even less prejudiced about her than Varsis.

His grandfather spoken to, Varsis starting running. His servant got the message, and ran as well, leading the way.

No heads were turned as they raced down the halls. Indeed, all the halls seemed curiously empty. Varsis didn’t like what he was seeing.

Varsis, his servant right ahead of him, rushed into an open-air garden. The sight that greeted him was not a good one. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the fact that a body was floating face-down in the fountain, which he suspected was that of Roin.

But even more than that, Varsis saw that in the center of the garden, a large group of his servants had gathered. As Varsis pushed through them, and the servant that had guided him here fell away, he saw that in the center of the group, two of his house guards had pinned Ana face-down to the floor.

To Varsis, however, most strange of all was the fact that Ana was wearing a dress, green of course, but still a dress. She never did that, and once, she had even said that if she did, she would be going against her faith.

“All right!” he shouted, and those who had been speaking fell silent. “What is going on here?”

One of the guards holding Ana down spoke up. “The new kid, Roin, just walked past her in the garden, and she killed him!”

To Varsis’ surprise, that was the general consensus. There were shouts of affirmation from all sides.

“Did anyone actually see this occur?” he asked.

Two custodians said that they had been in the garden when Roin had started to walk past Ana. They said that a moment later, he had been dead, and face down in the water.

Realizing that was all the crowd was going to tell him, Varsis looked down at Ana. Her eyes were closed, and she was still, amidst all the now-returning jeers, which Varsis did not bother to silence. Only the heavy breaths her mouth took proved that she was any less dead than Roin.

“Let her up,” said Varsis, with authority. His guards obeyed.

Ana stood slowly, brushing herself off, with all the dignity that she could find. Still, she did not speak.

“I would like to hear what you have to say for yourself,” said Varsis.

“I cannot say here why I did what I did,” said Ana. The crowd shouted at her, and only loyalty to Varsis restrained them.

“Then you have no reason,” said Varsis. “I did not think you would do such a thing, but now you have proved that they--” he gestured to the two dozen servants clustered around, just to make them feel that he was on their side--“were right about you all along, along with all the others.” He took a step closer to her, and whispered in her ear. “I present to you a choice. Die here, by my sword, or I will hand you over to those in the Fortress. I am sure Makini spellweavers will be able to restrain you for the rest of your life, and I believe they will be able to profit from experimenting on you, water-witch.”

All the softer, he whispered, “You dug your own grave, you know.”

“I know, my love,” she whispered back. “I choose the latter of your options.”

Varsis was, to say the least, surprised. He never would have thought Ana would have wanted to spend years in suffering, and had given the last choice as a courtesy to her. Also, he had wanted to be done with this situation before he left the room, but now that was not going to happen.

Varsis stepped away from her. “Come with me,” he told the two guards. “We are taking her to her room, and shortly thereafter, people will come who can take her off our hands.”

The crowd clapped in appreciation, even as Varsis frowned.

And then they walked. Ana moved of her own free will, though she had a look about her that suggested that by ways other than physical strength, she was going somewhere that she did not want to be.

It did not take long for the four of them to reach her room, but once they got there, Varsis became even more worried. He did not trust two guards to be able to hold her, when she decided that she wanted to leave. Ana was a water-witch, after all, and the guards were but men.

So Varsis walked Ana into her room, a room that was filled with riches and finery, and turned her to face him. The two guards waited for instructions outside, behind a closed door. Some lesser nobles might have gouged out their eyes to have all in the room. But it was not enough for Ana.

“I cannot understand why you did what you did today,” Varsis said. “Despite it all, I might…I might have loved you. Even considering what you are. We could have had a future, and you took that away from us, because you could not contain the sick impulses that reside within you.”

Ana actually had the courtesy to look pained. “I can tell you, now that we are alone, why I did what I did. Roin--”

“No doubt you have a reason,” said Varsis. “But I will not hear it. I still have a desire to sleep soundly at night.”

“But--”

“We are done here, Ana, quite done,” said Varsis. “Goodbye.” He put a hand on the back of her neck, and began to exert pressure in the place he had been taught about, taking care to be sure he found the right area.

“Goodbye, my love,” she said. She closed her eyes. “But we will see each other again.”

“I doubt it,” said Varsis.

Ana fell to the floor.

Varsis opened the door to the room, and walked out. In the hallway, his two guards seemed concerned.

“What happened in there?” asked one of them. “Are you sure she’s still in there? Did she put a spell on you?”

“Of course not, boy,” said Varsis, using the word only for effect, as the guard was not much younger than he was. “I have killed demons. And she, most certainly, is not at that level.”

Varsis lightly kicked open the door to Ana’s room, that he had only partially closed. She still lay on the ground, and had not moved an inch. Ana was just as unconscious as he had left her, and she would stay that way for several more hours. He said as much.

As the guards nodded, he walked away. Without turning around, he told them that spellweavers would be for Ana shortly.

Varsis barely turned a hallway before he ran into Oneako. Varsis’ grandfather did not need a cane to walk, and moved quite quickly for someone of his age.

“I heard what happened,” said Oneako. “All of it. I cannot believe the choices some people make. I spoke to Ana earlier today, and murder seemed to be the last thing on her mind.”

“You disagree with my decision, grandfather?” asked Varsis, incredulously.

“No, of course not,” said Oneako. “I was just thinking about the oddities in life. I already sent a runner for the spellweavers.”