“You know, I’ve never left the city before,” says Hineni, looking down at his reflection in the river. “Apart from the forest and stuff and uh… I guess when I was kidnapped as a baby. But other than that.”

“We used to take trips a lot when I was really young,” replies Rhine. “But I honestly don’t remember where all of those places were.”

The two of them lift their gazes towards Sockel, who turns back their way and shrugs, sensing the question to come. “I’ve been here and there. What’s it to you?”

Hineni rolls his eyes, continuing on with their walk. “Not everything is an interrogation, Sockel.”

“— Doesn’t mean that information can’t be used against you later,” explains the elf. “Never tell people anything extra for free.”

“Uh huh,” says Hineni. “I’m sure the frogs will be thrilled to hear about my lack of worldliness.” Hineni shakes his head. “Maybe they’ll even use it against me, if I told them what color my underwear is?”

Sockel continues on, striding down the road with her hands in her pockets. Rhine runs after her. “You say that. But you’ll be singing a different tune when you’re strapped to a chair and being whipped with a spiked chain.”

Rhine lifts a hand. “I thought we were supposed to tie kidnapped people to sturdy things, like altars and heavy tables, Sockel?” he asks. “To stop them from fidgeting?”

Sockel stops, turning to look over her shoulder. The elf plants a hand on Rhine’s shoulder. “I’m so proud of you right now. You have no idea.” Rhine beams, his face aglow.

“Sockel,” warns Hineni. “Stop teaching Rhine to act like a suspicious cultist.” He looks at Rhine. “Rhine. Don’t listen to Sockel. We don’t kidnap people and when we do, it’s only a temporary circumstance. We don’t need an altar to tie them onto. Chairs are fine.”

“It is true,” hoots Obscura. “Obscura will not need long to devour an imprisoned morsel.”

Hineni grabs her hand as they keep walking. “We don’t eat prisoners.”

“See,” says Sockel. “This is why I think you don’t have what it takes to survive in the south.” She looks at Rhine. “Never let a prisoner go without at least considering eating them, Rhine.”

Rhine nods. “Okay!”

Hineni sighs. “Sometimes, I really am unsure if you people are being serious or not,” he says, looking back towards Sockel and Rhine, who seem fairly amused. His gaze wanders back to Obscura, who has a more serious expression, as she clicks and hisses in excited thought. “- No.”

She hoots in protest.

Hineni stows the ingots into a crate, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead as his eyes wander around the forge. It’s a room he had perhaps spent the most time in out of any room in the house. Hell, it’s probably the place he has spent most of his life that he can remember, now that he thinks about it.

“Weaponsmith Hineni?” asks a man’s voice. Hineni turns to the side, looking at a soldier, standing in the doorway. The soldier has some bureaucratic papers in his hands and a just as tedious expression painted on his face.

“Yup,” replies Hineni.

The soldier nods. “Your transfer to the central regions has been approved, on the conditions agreed upon by your secretary.”

Hineni has no idea what deal Sockel made with them, but it’s probably reasonable enough. “Sounds good,” says Hineni. “We’re starting to pack up now and we still need to organize a cart for some things.”

The soldier scribbles into his paperwork. “That won’t be necessary. Your work is needed immediately, so we can’t afford to wait several weeks for your deliveries, even with the shorter times to bring items to the front.” He looks around the tower and then taps against his paperwork with his pen. “The move is starting now. Please pack your things.”

Hineni blinks. “…Huh?”

Hineni stands downstairs, watching as soldiers run around the house, packing up whatever Sockel points out to them to take.

“Listen, Kleid,” says Hineni, pulling the waitress to the side. “You’re in charge of this place. Don’t let it burn down, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” replies Kleidet. “Uh, is it okay if I let my brother live here? It’ll really save a lot on his tuition.”

“Hell if I care,” says Hineni. He digs into his pocket, pulling out a key and then lays it into her hand. “It’s your problem now. Do what you need to do,” he says, nodding to her. “We expect a report once a month. Sockel should have already talked to you about the details.” Kleidet nods, taking the key. “Sorry about that time we kidnapped you.”

“It’s fine,” she says, shaking her head. “Sorry about the whole owl thing.”

Hineni nods. “Don’t get caught up in any politics, okay?” he asks. “Just run the business and don’t give Avarice a foot in the door if he comes by. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute to try and pull out some deal, now that Sockel is leaving.”

“It was fun working with you,” says Kleidet. “I won’t let you down!”

Hineni nods, turning to continue packing. “Oh. And the door upstairs, in the attic,” he says, shaking his hand. “You have to jiggle it. Or it gets stuck.” She looks at him curiously and then nods.

With that, he nods back, content that everything is settled.

Kleidet and the two cooks, Lutz and Leicht, will be staying here.

Hineni stops, realizing that something is bothering him. He looks around the room, sensing that he’s forgotten something or someone.

“Ah. Hell.” He looks at the ever-quiet door man, Irit, who is standing by the door with crossed arms. Hineni swears that he just doesn’t even see the man anymore. Every day he just stands there, quietly, leaning against the wall. He’s like an expensive coat-rack you brought home and then never used because you just throw your jacket over a chair instead, just fading away into the back of one’s vision and mind forever. “Irit. Are you staying here or are you coming with us?” asks Hineni.

“I serve the owl-god,” replies Irit.

“Good man.” Hineni pats him on his shoulder. “Come on, help me get these boxes ready.”

The night hangs heavily over the city. Windows are aglow with the light of many lanterns, revealing the prosperity hidden in the rooms behind their facades. Hineni sits down on the cart, looking around.

A hooded, obscured figure climbs in. She’s dressed like a priestess of sorts in an ornate get-up. She stands in the middle of the cart and begins affixing something to the center pole in the middle of it. Hineni gets up and helps Seltsam attach the fairy-house.

“All good?” he asks, fastening it as she holds it up into the air.

“I- I’m a little nervous, HAHA!” says Seltsam, laughing far too loudly and awkwardly. A window slams shut across the street. “Sorry. I lost control of my voice for a m- moment.”

Hineni nods. “It’s my first time moving too,” he says, realizing that she’s probably far more terrified about being outside in any manner, in plain sight, than the move itself. But it seems like it’s best not to bring it up. He looks into the fairy-house. Eilig is laying in bed, her back turned to the window. Although he assumes she’s awake, giving the buzzing of her wings.

“Fairies like it when their homes are up in the air,” explains Seltsam, letting go. The chain pulls taut and the doll-house swings freely in the air, suspended from the beam. “I think it’s an anti-predation instinct. It’s very interesting!”

Hineni shrugs. “Guess so.” He looks around. Rhine climbs into the cart, carrying a load of tools and blueprints from the forge. Sockel jumps in after him, a bag on her back that is presumably full of old ledgers and such things.

“So. Are we ready to go?” asks Hineni, leaning out of the cart and looking up towards the sky, where a massive shadow looms in the air. He waves to Obscura, who has several crates clutched in her talons.

“All set,” says Rhine.

Sockel nods, sitting down, nudging Seltsam with her elbow. Seltsam yelps, lowering her head to hide herself in the overly large hood. “Good look, Selty.”

“THANK YOU!” yells Seltsam, gripping the edge of the bench.

Eilig opens her window. “Stop talking to my friend, long-ears!” snaps the fairy.

“You’re not invisible anymore, Eilig,” says Sockel. “Put on some clothes.”

“Die in a hole!” barks Eilig, pointing at Sockel. “Work hours are over!” She slams the window back shut.

Hineni sighs, shaking his head. “Glad to see everyone’s in good spirits,” he says and then knocks on the front. The driver whips the reins and the cart starts moving. Hineni stands at the back, holding on and staring out down the street as they begin to ride down it. The vision of the house fades from his sight. The house that he had spent just about every single memory of his that he has in, vanishes piece by piece, becoming obscured in the night like an old memory becoming forgotten over the course of years. Little by little, it washes away into darkness.

The carriage rattles as they ride down the street that he had walked down so many times.

Hineni notices that he doesn’t really feel sad.

His head turns around to look at the others. Rhine and Sockel are fighting over space on the bench, squishing against each other, which is resulting in Seltsam suffering as Rhine presses Sockel back against her. Eilig meanwhile is buzzing around, pestering Sockel for annoying Seltsam.

A shadow flies over his head.

He’s excited about this. This whole process over these last few months, since that fateful winter, has been a stage of development in his life. This city, this house, it was a safe, secure shelter, an egg. But it’s time to break free from that now.

He’s excited about living a new life, ideally free of the problems of frogs and owls and such things. But he expects that there will be entirely new problems in exchange.

He leans to the side, dodging an icicle that he had seen coming.

It’ll probably be fine. Best not to worry about it.