“He doesn’t seem to like you. Does he.” Theihdow sighed.

He spoke as though he hadn’t just trekked several leagues into the murky unknown of the dark behind a nearly invisible creature after a whole days worth of trekking just prior. The vampire claimed he was physically frail, but Flip reckoned that his stamina was of a legendary caliber. For, even as the hox circled around to a stop behind a small wooden post, the vampire didn’t make any movement to catch his breath or recover. Everyone else was practically wheezing.

“I don’t know how you can tell... What with the beast darting around in the dark so much... But I think it likes me just fine.” Dovhran, entirely out of breath, held his hand out to the hox to prove his point but was met with a feline hiss.

“I think our new friend is right. It hates you.” Selian chuckled. “Not that I think it particularly likes any of us... besides Meadowthorn.”

“You consider me a friend?”

“You’re being friendly.” Selian corrected. “I think friendship takes more time. The Brilliance wasn’t built in a day, as they say.”

Theihdow gave the other elf a puzzled look, but decidedly did not stray further from the topic originally at hand. “He’s been avoiding proximity to you our whole march, Dovhran. Every time you grew too close, it scurried ahead just a little faster.”

“That makes sense.” Flip nodded.

“What do you mean?” Dovhran was exasperated. “How does that makes sense?”

“I don’t trust you.” Flip shrugged in response. “And it’s a smart animal, so it doesn't trust you either.”

There was a moment of silence as all eyes were drawn to the faint outline of the creature as it let out a contented grumbling noise and crawled into a small hole in a wood and brick structure that it had led them all to. It seemed to be the creature's residence, but it was hard to make out much detail in the night.

“I suspect it sees something… or senses something that we don’t.” Theihdow raised an eyebrow towards Dovhran. “You are a very careful man, and I have trouble understanding your motivations. And your companions don’t trust you... So, perhaps the hox has been alerted to something that should be aired before we go any further?”

“There are things he won’t tell us. But I imagine, no matter how hard we press, he still won’t tell us.” Selian sighed. “Faengil had him on edge a few nights ago. But it went poorly.”

“Is it because he’s carrying a concealed item?” Thiehdow was calm as normal as he asked the question, but Dovhran went pale at the mention.

Even in the dim star-lit night, it was clear that Dovhran had been caught off guard. His complexion paled and he took a half step back from the group, wrapping his arms around his stomach in a defensive position.

“Perhaps we should take a seat and create a safe space to speak openly.” Theihdow offered a smile of good faith as he spoke, but it did not receive smiles in return. “Or, perhaps, we should all rest. You can set down your hatch and I will pitch my tent. And in the morning we can speak more candidly.”

“Or we could talk over tea.” Flip proclaimed happily as he dropped the hatch flat on the ground. “I’m tired and I can’t sleep. I need tea. And maybe something to chew on.”

Without any confirmation or any movement of any kind to alter Flip’s course, the wizard went about with placing the hatch properly and crawling into the flat. Selian shrugged and followed close behind. Dovhran was frozen in place. A mixture of fear and uncertainty plagued the mercenary. And, despite their agreement with Theihdow, the vampire seemed as terrifying in that moment as he had when he had been a tangle of viscera reaching out in the wild wind before a storm.

Thiehdow took a step back away from the hatch and Dovhran, gesturing for the mercenary to take his exit. “I won’t harm you. Any of you. Through action or inaction... Though, I may find myself in a position where keeping that agreement becomes impossible if you are lying and deceiving each other.”

With a look that fully conveyed his fears, and also something else, something malevolent but powerless, Dovhran ducked down and slid into the safety of the flat.

“He’s threatening me.” Dovhran hissed as he took his seat in the corner of the flat. “I don’t care if he can hear me. He’s threatening me.”

“He’s threatening to force you to share your secrets.” Selian retorted.

Flip was not interested in the conversation at hand. He knew there was a conversation that would need to happen, but he didn't expect it to arise as soon as just then. He knew the ins and outs of what would happen, more or less. There would likely be binding agreements made, the truth forced out through clever tactics, and the item which Dovhran was keeping secret and stowed away inside his own body would be revealed. It was inevitable, and something that Flip had realized would have to happen as soon as the last schism occurred and then petered as it became increasingly uncomfortable to pry. Flip was not particularly experienced with prying out the truth himself, but he was familiar with being forced into a position where the truth was pried out of him.

“Peppercorn tea, if you don’t mind.” Selian’s voice was gentle when she turned to Flip to request a drink, but it became something of a jeer when she turned back to Dovhran. “And if your secrets are a danger to any of us, he might do more than threaten you.”

“You’re taking his side.” Dovhran hissed.

“There are no sides.” Flip grumbled. “You can tell us what it is you don’t want to if it is unsafe in some sense. Or you can choose not to. We won’t trust you as much if you don’t, of course. But you should expect that.”

“I’m concerned that its something that the hox can detect but none of us can…” Selian frowned. “Not even the vampire. And I’d wager he can see past your ability to change forms.”

The slightly louder than normal voice of Thiehdow reached them through the closed hatch. “I can. If I want.”

“Would you like me to just let you in?” Flip called out towards the hatch, careful to word his question so that it wouldn’t be a clear invitation that might allow the vampire to bypass the magic of the hatch.

“No. I’m settling in my tent.”

“At least he isn’t making us rush.” Selian wasn’t sure how to feel about the situation she now found herself in, but she was content to take a step back and let things play out.

“What if…” Dovhran paused. For a moment, the changeling’s expression froze in contemplation, as if he was coming to terms with his fate. “What if I told you that it wasn’t something that could be a danger to you so long as I didn’t tell you what it was?”

There was no response from anyone in the flat or from outside it.

“And, if I tell you about what it is that I’m not telling you, you might be placed in some danger.” Dovhran seemed mildly panicked, but more confused than anything else. “And if I say the wrong thing, things may spiral out of proportion… and become hazardous.”

“You’re rambling.” Selian chuckled, but there was a nervousness beneath it. “But it would be a decent excuse to remain quiet.”

“If it’s true.” Flip turned and slammed a stone mug down in front of Dovhran.

The impact echoed through the room and Dovhran’s wide eyes were transfixed on the wizard. The forceful gesture was completely unprecedented and seemingly without motive.

“That was harder than I meant to do that…” Flip returned to the kettle he had started on the stove. “What is your preference of tea? Will you try the lavender or stick with the spice blend?”

The awkward moment was interrupted with an interjection from the vampire outside. “I have aged mooncress leaves and honeycomb if you prefer.”

“Do you really?” Flip was, at that moment, more interested in teh prospect of new tea than anything else.

“Just pour some warm water and give it a drop of molasses.” Dovhran grumbled. The changeling was physically and emotionally exhausted and it was beginning to show.

Flip, torn between his perceived obligation of host in the flat and the promise of new tea leaves took a step away from the stove but returned knowing that the tea leaves would be there later and that the water would be jinxed to evaporate quickly if he left it unattended; jinxed in the sense that unattended things tend to cause problems on their own, that is. When the water was finally heated, he began pouring drinks. With drink in hand, the wizard quickly became engrossed in the comfort of a warm cup of tea.

“I’m still curious what you can tell us about your secret.” Selian murmured in a tone intended to be heard just by Dovhran, though the elf assumed anything she said would not be private. “Maybe something more general about what it is…”

Dovhran relented with little push back. He knew full well that hiding too much would come back to bite him. “It's… a personal item of mine. Something that really only matters to… changelings… Usually. I’m not entirely sure how it works, but once we’re done here in the wastes I intend to get rid of it. It’s been nothing but trouble.”

“You really don’t know how to answer questions half-way without making the truth sound more enticing.” Selian groaned.

“He’s too good at lying.” Flip grunted. “And very bad at telling the truth.”

“You’re not wrong, Faengil.” Dovhran sighed. “I’m not used to being very truthful. But it comes with the territory.”

“What territory, Dovhran?” Flip raised his bushy eyebrows over the lip of his cup, letting the steam partially obscure the sight of his face. “The territory of being a gold grubber?”

“Are you…” Dovhran was shocked. “Are you teasing me?”

“I am attempting to be lighthearted and sarcastic.” Flip explained blandly, losing all the fake silliness he had tried to muster previously. “But I am bad at this.”

“You could have convinced me.” Selian let out a more genuine laugh. “You poke fun better than he tells the truth.”

A knock at the hatch signaled Theihdow's request, as other conversation had stopped. “I would actually care for some tea, but I only require hot water.”

“Can’t help you.” Flip called out to the hatch. “Won’t work.”

“I’m sorry?” Theihdow sounded confused. The vampire had thought he had built up some amount of report with the wizard, but the response he had received did not seem to match that connection.

“Open the hatch and drop your empty cup in the hole. See what happens.”

Selian and Dovhran both watched intently, curious how the interaction would play out. They had an inkling of understanding of what might happen, but had not seen it play out. There was also a worry that this invitation to experiment could allow the vampire into their safe space. But no comment was made.

Everyone watched as the hatch was flipped open and a small well-worn wooden cup flew up from the hole in the ground. For a moment, the cup lingered in the air, about four feet from the floor of the flat, before falling back down into the opening of the hatch.

“Ah…” Theihdow’s response was understanding, though still mildly perplexed. “That… I would rather not spill boiling water on myself because of that. I’ll manage my own water…”

“So that’s how that works.” Selian whispered, intrigued but dismissive. She had something else, something that had not been taken up in conversation yet, on her mind. Against her better judgement, she did not voice her question.

Despite the late hour, with warm drinks finally in hand for everyone, conversation lulled. It seemed everyone was on the verge of sleep when Flip began to doze. It did not matter that he was sat upright at the makeshift table, or that his face was pressed against its hard wooden surface. He was unconscious, and with that unconsciousness dreams began to come to him.

Flip became, as he often did, a passenger in his own mind. This was how dreams usually came to him, both the oddly informative and the absurd. They were vivid sequence, viewed as if on the back of a wagon moving on the road and the scene itself were the scenery on the roadside. But, often, the scene was fast and the road bumpy.

It came as a surprise to the wizard when, before he fully realized he was dreaming, he found himself seemingly awake. But not in the comfort of the flat, surrounded by companions. The wizard felt alone, encased in darkness, in a cold invisible cage, where his breath echoed in short hisses as if off of metal walls.

“Come to us. Join with us. Chains to chains. Shackles to shackles. Atom to atom. Release us.”

The voice that reached Flip in the darkness of his dream, at least he hoped it was a dream, was not alone. It was not the single familiar voice of a demon he had come to expect. But a duet of the demon and something else. Something pitiful and hoarse and weak.

Before there was a chance to respond, though Flip had long resolved never to respond, there was a tug in his mind. A feeling akin to having your lungs squeezed and wrapped in string and the string then pulled backwards so as to take you with it. And while it began gently, it quickly became a powerful force that drew Flip backward and out of the metal prison he had been in. As though pushing through the opening of a box, a box with a stagnant air, Flip’s vision, his dreaming body, was ripped backwards. Through rapid successions of disjointed and dimly lit rooms, through stone and metal, through the ground and then through the air, then through the ground again, and finally backwards through the point of a golden tipped spear before air rushed back into the wizards lungs and he jolted awake with a start.