With the three of them at my side I march up to Alita.

“Take me to Baba.”

The keeper of the molten tower winces and looks away. “I cannot.”

I blink. What in the nine hells?

“And why can’t you?”

If this is some bullshit about her being their prisoner I’m going to rip her a new one and than demote her! A child can have her job! They might even do it better!

SHe sighs. “Allow me to show you.”

SHe doesn’t guide us into the tower as I expect her to but instead takes us into a residential area.

“Some years back when the heathens succeeded in breaking into the city for Delmar we decided that a cell they’d know nothing of would be a better option. Only two people know of its existence besides you three.”

Security via anonimity? Because of Delmar? Really?

He wasn’t even a desert son. Just a rando with ruby eyes that managed to convince people he was meant to inherit. But he was a moron! Yes, he managed to sack two of the Rook cities in his bid to become king but nothing else.

He ended up getting hiimself killed when trying to take Pria.

She seems to pinck a house out a random and pushes the door open. The nondescript version of the place vanishes with the sight of two red cloaked guards. Surprisingly one of them is male.

Interesting. I wonder who he convinced to let him take up a combat art. Considering even if he were imprisoned his worth would be much higher than if he were a fighter. After all shackled he can hardly get run through fighting bandits.

She opens a door I assume to be a closet and there is a wide set of stairs. They lead down into a low lit room thats only real feature is the bars that divide the room. I see the problem immdiately.

There’s a largish hole under the wall. She’s dug her way out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Have you not used this place since it was built! Who doesn’t reinforce the ground with stones in a prison!”

She turns red. “Its supposed to be a secret! We had the oil burning! And if we tried to put stones into the ground people would have noticed!”

“The secrets useless if they dig their own way out!”

“Highness.”

“Seriously! Even placing her into the tower would have been a better choice! And I killsed the majority of her support already!”

“Highness.”

She pokes me in the chest and Samira blurs. She grabs Alitas offending hand twists it and plunges her face into the sand before I can react.

“Great now both of you are bleeding again.” Aster sighs.

Looking down at my stomach I’m surprised to find parts of it slowly turning red. Huh, guess the healer knew more than I thought. Who knew.

“Would you look at that.”

Absently I note it doesn’t hurt. Before I can stop myself or think it over I poke the wound. Pain. Like stabbing fire!

That settles it. I’m an idiot! Who does that!

“Not your brightest move highness.” Aster says.

Duh. But my foolishness has nothing on putting Babaleon of all people into a room that hasn’t been fortified! Now she’s loose.

Taking a breath I begin to count.

There’s nothing she or I can do about Baba getting loose now. Her victims have been put to rest properly. There’s other things I need to do. It’s been a week, I have to return home before the king mobilizes our forces or something equally as stupid. I need to get Samira the help she needs.

Leveling a glare at Alita I make my way back up the stairs. “It doesn’t matter. She’s long gone.”

By th etime Im at the top of the stairs they’re at my side.

“Are you sure you want to leave it? We can send out search parties, scour the area.” Samira suggests.

I shake my head. There’s no point in searching and she knows it as well as I do. Baba will have found her way to a place she can lay low for a few days before she makes her next move. Besides we have no idea how long ago she got out!

I tell her as much and my prime sighs.

“Of course you’re right.”

Turning to Aster I ask. “Aster can you show me the way back to the doctor?”

She cocks her head to the side, “Whats a doctor?”

Crap. Can’t I catch even one break? I scramble for an answer. Hemming and hawing when Samira answers for me.

“A doctor is what the Revarsolar call healers.”

Oh right. I expect her to look at me oddly but she doesn’t even seem to care. Though isn’t that to be expected?

“You want to go to the healer? We’re on our way.”

Its odd I realize. Seeing the city so alive. People move through the dark in droves. Everyone seems to move with a weight on their shoulders thats intent on dragging them to the ground. For a city with so much movement, it’s silent.

“Samira, is there something you’d like to eat?”

She shrugs. “Apologies highness. I’ve not much an apetite the last few days.”

I shrug. “What does that matter? You need food to do your job. If you get into a fight after fasting your less likely to win.”

She nods, but I don’t think she believes me.

Clapping my hands together I try to put energy that I don’t have into my statement. “I want some fruit and meat.”

It still falls flat.

“You highness are likely still on breads and broths.”

Stopping I look at her horrified. Thats a thing huh. Damn but I hate soups! And who likes soggy bread?

She opens the door and I walk in.

“Can’t we make an exception? Just cut the meat into really small pieces?”

“Not unless you’d like to choke on really small pieces.” The healers voice answers. “Or if you’d like one of us might chew your food for you and spit it into your mouth?”

My stomach churns and I press a hand to my mouth. “Never mind. I’m not hungry.”

Turning to the hall I find the healers walking toward me her eyes narrowed.

“Layer-under.” She says.

I wince. Layer under refers to how I’m essentially using Endurance to force my body to do as I want it to. A useful technique if ones in danger but, Its got a number of downsides.

Nerve damage.

If a bone is in the wrong place it’ll still do as I want meaning it can cut me open on the inside.

Not to mention erectile dysfunction. Of course it never made it into the story as more than a joking reference but something tells me I shouldn’t discount it.

“Pardon me for saying it but you highness are an idiot.”

Aster and Samira both snort.

It’s Samira who defends me however. “His highness led the procession.”

The healer’s scornful expression shifts to one of surprise and she sinks to a knee. “I apoligise Highness! Your magnanimity honors us all.”

Shaking my head I take her by her arm and pull her to her feet. Her surprise looks to have doubled and if one were to hit her with a feather i’m certain she would actually fall over.

“I didin’t even think about the villages children upon my arrival. I don’t deserve praise.”

“I understand if you want to convince the princes he’s wrong but it wont work. You said it yourself, he’s an idiot.” Aster says drolly.

“Besides. The idiot is bleeding.”

The emotion bleeds from her face until it looks like she’s wearing a mask. “Stoic.”

Off to the side of her a stick of a woman manifests only she’s not quite right. She’s got four arms.

“Tilda here’s been chosen by the goddess as well.” Aster said.

Of course the introduction isn’t needed in Tilda’s case. She’s one of the characters that didn’t make the cut and got dropped into the slush file for that reason. It has little to do with how good she is at her job, or her personality or the fact that she borders on sociopathy and everything to do with how she always ended up being to handsy.

Wait chosen by the goddess? Because her manifestation has four arms? Thats just dumb. Manifestations are outward manifestations of what the creator pictures in regards to a singular concept.

In Lux theres a manifestation who looks to have been forged out of metal.

She pulls at my bandanges while Stoic holds my arms with two hands and gently prods around the wounds with her free hands. Or at least I’m assuming she’s trying to be gentle about it.

Honestly it feels like she’s poking me with the intent to hurt me.

“Are you the healer thats looking over the worms?”

She doesn’t look up at me but answers all the same. “I am. A divergent breed of jubilation worm. Unlike my texts suggest however, I found a mass of them wrapping about the organs and coating themselves with a solid white mass.”

I don’t see where but she produces a readied needle and jams it into me. Its like she can’t see how far away I— ohhh. She needs glasses.

After the initial jab however I barely feel it! Its impressive enough I look down to watch her pass the needle through me again and again.

“Does it hurt Highness?” She asks.

Slowly I shake my head.

“Than would you please stop staring? It’s making me self concious.”

There’s not th slightest bit of emotion in her voice as she says it either. Is she messing with me?

I look away as one of Stoic’s hands begins to stroke my cheek. I glance at the manifestation but she’s just as emotionless as her master. Her hand glides along my face again.

“Stop it.”

Stoic looks at me like she has no idea what I’m talking about. Of course the hand that sliding its way down my back says otherwise.

“Does she do this to everyone?”

Tilda looks up at me than at her manifestation. She shakes her head.

“So its just me?”

Again the healer shakes her head.

“I’m going to stab you.”

Stoic is far from scared however.

“Aster, give me your sword.”

SHe quickly draws it and extends it my way.

As soon as the cool ivory is in my hand I turn my attention back to Tilda.

“Control her, or I’ll destroy her.”

The healer looks from me to the sword to Stoic and back several times before looking at Samira imploringly. She doesn’t find help however. Merely another enemy.

“I recommend controlling your manifestation rather than allowing her to do as she pleases.”

Her hand trails across my butt again and like that the choice is made for her. Flipping the blade about, I plunge it behind me through Stoic’s ribs. She still manages to grab me before she vanishes. Tilda violently winces and nearly topples over, still holding on to the needle. Only Samira’s timely intervention keeps the thread from ripping its way out of me.

“Get ahold of yourself! As a healer you’re amazing, but beyond that you're lacking.”

She bows her head and nods. She looks like she’s about to cry. She doesn’t but she seems to have come to the conclusion the best way to deal with me is to get her job done as quickly as she can as she returns to her stitching.

“Aster, how long would it take to requisition the supplies needed to get home?”

She doesn’t answer, instead she holds out her hand and taps her foot.

Oh right, I still have her sword.

As I place it in her hands she speaks. “Not long. I’ve filed it already all that needs to be done is gather them.”

I nod. “We leave as soon as we’ve finished breaking our fast.”

Aster nods but Tilda clears her throat.

“I recommend Highness remains in Lyomenos for a few days longer so that you might have time to heal.”

It really didn’t take much to pop a few stitches earlier so I’m tempted to agree and if I’m actually convalescing than I might be able to actually enjoy my time in the city. A real vacation. But I shake my head.

“The longer I remain here past the time the King expects my return, the more likely he is to begin beating the war drums.”

I offer a small laugh but it comes out more dry than I expect. “Seriously though, he’s the kind to do that.”

Tilda frowns.

“I don’t believe Highness will be able to move for several days once he disengages Layer Under.”

Crap. She’s right, as soon as I call Endurance off I won’t be moving anywhere.

Can’t I ever be right?

“A few days it is.”

She nods and looks at Samira. “Take him to his room.”

Samira starts to say something when Tilda hits a spot of the back of my legs and I feel Endurances strength drain away like trying to catch rain in a bucket full of holes. I fall.

Aster’s arms are suddenly around me. “Tilda, just because Samira’s not your patient doesn’t mean she’s not injured!” SHe scolds.

Tilda doesn’t seem to care as she ties the thread and cuts it with a knife she pulls from her side.

“You might also wish to keep the shutters as closed as much as you can tomorrow. The acolytes are igniting the hares.”

Great the smell of burning hair.

Aster drags me off down the hall. I try to raise my head to look at Samira but I find that I don’t have the strength to do even that. It leaves me staring at her feet.

Its better than being stuck looking at her abdomen. That’d probably just leave her feeling uncomfortable.

The three of us don’t say much or in my and samira’s case nothing at all and Aster’s attempts falter when she realizes neither of us is going to reply.

Not that I can. At least not to the average person.

Endurance. I call to the manifestation, but he doesn’t answer. Whatever she’d had done must have exhausted the his energy.

Damn Tilda.

Dinner, unappetizing as soup and bread is became worse. Without the abillity to chew its become just warm soup. It tastes like salted artichoke. Ech.

The next morning doesn’t see me in much better a condition. I can hardly grunt and twitch my fingers and toes. And of my ears of course.

The smell is so much worse that i imagined it would be. Like burning putrid flesh nestled cozily atop the worlds largest landfill and topped off with the smell of burned hair.

Accolyts suck.

After Aster spoon feeds me my breakfast, which is just cold last nights dinner I find myself with the time so I challenge myself. How many times can I twitch my ears in the span of a minute.

“One hundred and eight.”

“One hundred nine.”

“One hundred ten.”

“One hundred eleven. Time.”

Damnit!

Samira had managed to deduce what I was doing at some point and quietly joined in my boredom induced playtime. Though I haven’t been able to reach my record of one hundred and eighteen twitches again since I’d gotten it.

“Would you like to try again highness? You’ve still not reached my one hundred and twenty.”

Samira asks.

Taking a breath I countdown from three and begin twitching my ears.

Again and again I make the attempt trying every method I can think of from twitching my finger in time with it which gets the closest at one thirteen to trying to force them to twitch faster which works but results in a half twitch that I won’t count and is actually exhausting. Suffice it to say, I don’t make it to a hundred and eighteen let alone one twenty.

Dammit.

So plays out the second day.

The next morning I wake the first thing I notice is the pain plaguing my muscles is now more or less gone and know that I can move. Likely about as well as I could before Tilda did her little trick but I can move.

Having learned my lesson from the last time got moved from this bed, I slowly move into a seated position and look around the room.

Aster is curled into a ball on the couch while Samira is asleep in the chair beside the door. Desperation and Tenacity are pressed together on the floor a few feet from me. Tenacity is on her side her legs moving as if she were racing toward her prey. Actually its probably what she’s dreaming about.

Endurance, you there?

He at first doesnt answer and I start to think he hadn’t quite gathered the energy yet but he finally answers with a sigh.

I am. What do you need assisstance with?

Nothing. I wanted to apologize for what Tilda did.

An odd thing for you to apologize. More so because you did nothing wrong. I felt nothing but pride in aiding you in the procession.

I shrug. That we all managed to survive this is nothing short of amazing. And the only reason I did is because of you and the others.

If that’s the case I suggest you take training more seriously. A strong mind is not enough.

I agree with a nod.

Since I’m certain I’m not going to be holding the reins today, what say you and I train as we go.

It’d be my pleasure—

Aster stirs on the couch and looks blearily at me.

“Highness?”

Obviously not yet awake. She wipes the sleep from her eyes and begins stretching as she yawns.

Its enough to bring Samira jerking back to awareness and to her feet. She looks at me in surprise. I wave and she nods before beginning her own series of stretches.

You’d better get them moving, we’ll speak again soon.

Apprectiated my friend.

Aster yawns again as she moves toward the door. “I’ll be back soon with your breakfast Highness.”

She’s out the door before I can manage a wordbut she’s back in moments carrying a tray with a wooden bowl beside which lay a chunk of bread and a pitcher of whats likely water.

“Yay, more soup,” I do nothing to hide the distate I have for it and she smiles wide at me.

“Don’t forget the bread highness.”

She’s getting a sick sense of pleasure out of this.

Patting my stomach I take the tray fully intending to drop it to the floor but Aster sets it on to the bed beside me.

“Please eat Highness. If it’s to difficult let me know and I’ll be glad to help.”

A translation of her words form in my head. “Eat it and if you spill I will happy to take over so it doesn’t happen again.”

Damn.

Dipping the spoon into the green liquid I can’t help but remember the old nursery rhyme. Some like it hot. Some like it cold. Some like it in the pot nine days old. With luck it’s one of those situations.

Depositing the so called food in my mouth I wince. It’s definitely not.

“Good. You finish your breakfast Highness, I’ll see to our supplies.” Aster starts for the door and stops.

“Would you mind lending Desperation to me? I’ll get him into his harness while I’m at it.”

Glancing at the dog who raises one of his heads at the sound of his name. He regards me curiously.

[Aid pack.] I point at Aster [Follow.]

The hound raises himself to his feet, dislodging Tenacity in the process but the weasel glares up at the dog for a moment before curling into tight ball and going back to sleep. The canine follows Aster out the door.

Glancing at Samira out of the corner of my eye I find her eating a denai leaf, the purple juices that might as well be blackberry juices dribbling down her chin. I’m so jealous.

How did she even get it without me seeing? Did Aster sneak it in? Clever girl.

“Can I help you highness?” She asks quietly.

Shaking myself I look at her rather than her food. Everything that’s happened to her pushes its way to the front of my mind. I fight to keep my face as neutral as I can manage.

“No.”

I return to my food.

“Samira, I’m going to see you whole again.”

“Yes Highness.” She says but the way she says it tells me she doesn’t believe me. That’s fine.

One day I’ll prove it.

We fall into silence. By the time Aster returns I’ve managed to down the rest of the cold soup and half of the bread. Quite a feat since it never got any better at all.

[Wake. Follow] I shove the mental commands at the sleeping weasel. She struggles for a moment before slowly unwinding herself and stretching with a series of unhappy squeaks.

Aster throws my arm over her shoulder and together the three of us head outside where Desperation is waiting. Hes been hooked to not one but two carapaces in series.

I get the feeling I’m going to be laid down in one of them?

Because that’s what they do. Kind of. It’s closer to a seated position with the suppliesw they use to prop me up. There are times when being wrong is in upside.

As they finish settling me Alita strides up and bows.

“Highness.” She says.

The two accompanying her drop to a knee.

“What do you want.”

I don’t care thats its abrupt and rude, the womans luck I’m not throwing her in prison. One she CAN’T dig out of.

“I came to apologize—“

Raising a hand I stop her. “Your apologies are worthless. The only reason your still in charge is because I don’t know who to replace you with. See that I don’t see the need when I come back.”

She bows and doesn’t say another word but from the way she’s actively glaring at me because nobody but me can see her, I doubt she’ll change for the better.

As Samira mounts the klorian lizard she rode in on and Aster takes the reins we take off.

“Clear a path!” Samira yells ahead of us. “The Prince is coming through!”

Ahead of us a barrel chested man raises a short sword and shield and begins striking them together.

Clack. Clack.

A woman begins rapping her swords against one another.

Clack. Clack.

My cheeks and ears begin to burn.

One by one the people step from alleys, from buildings, from shopping stalls and they join in with whatever they have on hand. For most its their weapons for others its a wooden spoon and bowl, a pickaxe and a wall.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

They follow us all the way to the gate. Some even beyond. The cacophony of their strikes trails after us even further.