Faye could not remember the last time she had been actually, truly clean. She had been moving and fighting for days, and between there had been so little downtime that it had felt like all she could do was collapse onto the bed, exhausted. Most of the time, she would not have the energy to remove her outer layers, let alone put pyjamas on.

A part of her really resented the inability to take out a couple of hours for a long soak in a steaming hot bath.

She glared at the Administrator, again, as they moved into yet another room filled with people.

“You will find that the way to the city is fairly straightforward,” the Administrator was saying. “It is the main route the traders take, and we send teams down it whenever they head on journeys out that way.”

Faye nodded. “Administrator, I hope you aren’t offended, but I honestly don’t think I’m taking in half of what you’re saying.”

The Administrator shrugged. “I know, that’s why I’m telling you so much. You’ll take in half of what I say regardless, so the more I say, the more you will remember.”

Faye frowned. “I’m not sure that is how it works…”

The Administrator grinned suddenly. “I know, I’m playing with you.”

Faye turned a mock glare on the older woman. The Administrator simply laughed.

“What I’m telling you is important, and I apologise, I was probably overloading you. In which case, I will stop. However, you won’t be required to know it all. After all, I am sending someone qualified along with you.”

Faye perked up at that. The Administrator had not yet indicated that she had found someone to accompany her. “Really?” she asked.

“Yes. He is getting ready now.”

Faye nodded. It would be good to have anyone along, but if it was someone capable of holding their own against… whatever it was she was likely to meet, then she would be happy.

For a few minutes, Faye lapsed into thoughts of the scenarios she could find herself in on the weeks-long journey to the city. So far, the stories she had heard of what happened on the road there were varied — and contradictory.

It seemed that most people that lived in Lóthaven had not made the journey themselves. She was certain that there were some that had. Perhaps even those that had perished in the fighting with the Primalists. But there were more people in even the Guild than she could speak with for a reasonable amount of time before they needed her on the road.

Every hour they delayed, the worse the town’s situation became.

The Administrator chivvied the attendants nearest to them away, encouraging them into tasks that Faye had no idea if they were needed or not, but were effective in giving the two of them a bubble of space in which no one else was standing.

“We are close to the edge, Faye,” the Administrator said, the moment she could not be overheard. The Administrator pulled up the tablet of slate that she used to make notes on and scribbled something on it. A moment later, she frowned, then she turned to Faye once more. “You have to leave today. The teams we sent out to the nearest Steadings tell us that the supplies they are receiving are enough for now, but that there are serious concerns for the future if we cannot secure our borders and trade routes.”

“Any idea, yet, why they did this?”

The Administrator grimaced. “No. I can only assume that it was for financial or political gain. In the grand scheme of the world, I am afraid that we are but a mote of dust in the Celestials’ eyes.”

“For someone to devastate the place they live… it’s unspeakable.”

“You have not met many monsters in your lifetime.”

“Well, there are plenty in the woods around here. The mountains were sparser than I thought—”

“No,” the Administrator interrupted, but not unkindly, “you misunderstand me, Faye. The monsters I mean are the ones that live amongst us. Pretending day after day to be like us, part of our communities, tutoring our children, helping our friends, living next to our families… only to, eventually, inevitably, show you their true colours.”

Faye shook her head. “You don’t really know that I haven’t met monsters, Administrator.”

The woman turned to stare at Faye.

“Perhaps.”

“Still doesn’t make much sense to me,” Faye said. “Unless there was something concrete in it for them. Destroying a town like this does not make a lick of sense.”

“Unfortunately,” the Administrator said with a shake of her head, “the logic of monsters is not something that can be discerned by the rest of us.”

“That’s good advice.”

The voice that had interrupted came from behind them. It was Ailith, she grinned as she approached. Arran and Gavan were at her side.

Ailith pointed at the Administrator. “I’m not sure why you were givin’ that advice, Administrator, but I agree with you wholeheartedly. Faye do not try to predict what a monster’s going to do with logic. Sometimes they do the weirdest things, and you cannot predict them. Especially if it’s something you have never come across before.”

Arran looked between Faye and the Administrator’s faces, then turned to Ailith.

“I don’t think that is what they were talking about, Ailith…”

“What? Well, what else would it have been?”

The Administrator waved a hand. “Nothing. Alright, Faye, I think my aides are giving us the signal that they are fully prepared. You will have to say goodbye now.”

She turned to the adventurers. They were here friends. The first group of people to listen to her and give her more than pity, scorn, or plain abuse. She felt herself tear up.

“I’m going to miss you all.”

Ailith shrugged, “Yeah, ‘course, makes sense really.”

Faye laughed. Ailith came forward for a hug. For once, she was not wearing her full armour. It meant that instead of being squished against plates of steel, Faye was squished against muscles that felt as hard as steel.

“Oh, my God, Ailith… do you have a gram of fat on you?” Faye said, rather muffled, into Ailith’s shoulder.

“Nope!” the other woman cheerily declared, letting Faye go with a grin.

Arran came in for a hug, too. He was not as full-on as Ailith, though, and did not squeeze the air from her lungs. He went for a pat-on-the-back style hug. Faye ignored that and grabbed him properly.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve been friends long enough to hug properly.”

After a moment, he put his arms around her normally, too.

“There, good,” she said, stepping back. She turned to Gavan. The quiet mage was not one that went in for physical contact regularly, even with Arran and Ailith. Faye wondered if he would react badly to a hug.

She held out her arms and cocked her head, asking him if he wanted one.

“I suppose,” he mumbled, to Arran and Ailith’s grins. He stepped forward and let Faye hug him, briefly.

“Can’t believe you won’t get chance to teach me all the magic you promised me!” she said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Arran said, “I’m sure you’ll find the time. You won’t be walking all night, after all, and there will be plenty of time to talk all you want about theory and practice…”

Faye looked over her shoulder at the duellist, confused.

What’s he talking about?

Then, his words percolated through her tired mind.

“Wait. What?”

The Administrator spoke up. “I did say I had chosen a competent companion for your journey, did I not?”

“Not sure if I’d go that far, Administrator…” Ailith said, with a chuckle. “He can be alright in a pinch, though.”

Gavan turned a calm look on his teammate and pointed a finger at her. Ailith immediately lifted her hands in defeat.

“Ah, no, not inside!” she called. “What have we told you?”

“Really,” Faye asked, ignoring the byplay, “you’re going to come with me?”

Gavan turned back, a solemn look on his face. “Yes. You have a lot to learn if you want to expand your magical knowledge.”

“Not to mention, Adventurer Gavan has family ties in the city.”

“Strained ties, I said, Administrator,” Gavan interrupted, which was rare for him.

The Administrator nodded, conceding the point. “Be that as it may, you know much more of the city than Faye. Any assistance you can give her in meeting the people we need her to speak to, the better.”

Gavan looked to Faye. “There is another reason. I have stalled. Without tuition, I am not advancing as I should.”

Faye nodded. “Is there a school there, or a master you can learn from?”

“I doubt a master would deign to lower themselves to my level,” Gavan said, but he shrugged. “Maybe I can find a bored expert or high adept that will help me.”

Faye chastised herself, again. She kept forgetting that there were certain words that were reserved for actual classification of levels, rather than generic descriptors of skill.

That’s the kind of thing that Gavan is going to be teaching me, she realised. Some things cannot be learned in the middle of nowhere. I imagine that there are fewer reasons to draw my sword in a city.

She nodded. “Well, either way,” she said, sliding free of tangential thoughts, “I am glad you’re coming.”

At that point, there was a small commotion at the door to the room. They were in one of the storage areas of the Guild, because the Administrator had gotten sick of the delay between her orders being given and responses coming back to her. This had turned into the staging area for Faye, and Gavan’s, journey to the city.

Into that area came striding the Guild Leader. He greeted the room with a terse nod. With that, the majority went back to work. The hubbub rose up again as the attendants and logisticians worked together to get everything ready.

“Adventurers,” Eanraigh said, as he approached, “glad to see you all. Adventurer Faye, I have your reward.”

Here, he held out her sword, though it was covered by a leather wrap she knew what it was already. She could not help but grin.

“Thank you, Guild Leader.” She bowed her head briefly. “This is truly a wonderful gift.”

Before she could close her fingers on it, he pulled it back out of reach slightly. She paused.

“I want to clarify,” Eanraigh said, quietly so that only those nearby heard, “this is not a gift, Adventurer. You earned this. Truly.”

Smiling, but trying hard not to beam, she nodded. “I’ll remember. Thank you.”

Nodding back to her, the Guild Leader let the sword fall into her waiting hands.

She rolled open the leather wrap, revealing the handle. Just as the Guild Leader had promised, his careful crafting of a wire-wrapped lower handle created an interesting handle to look at, but as she ran her fingers over it, she realised it might be useful in battle, too.

The pommel had been polished to a shine. Where before it had been a muted, almost tarnished colour — despite the fact it was not made of silver — it was now a bright silver, with a hint of the darker colour in the shadows and recesses of the basic circular design on it.

She let the wrap fall the rest of the way open, handing it back to the Guild Leader when he held out a hand for it. The blade was now sheathed in a dark leather scabbard. The tip was capped in a similarly polished steel cap that would protect the tip of the blade from damage.

The leather was marked with a simple, but beautiful twisting knot design that reminded Faye of the sort of Celtic imagery that was particularly popular with some people back home. She thought the design was both interesting but muted enough that it looked like purposeful decoration rather than ostentatious over-design for tourists.

She approved.

“It is magnificent,” she said. “Thank you.”

The Administrator looked from the sword to the Guild Leader and back. “That is a magnificent weapon.”

The Guild Leader looked over with a guiltless expression. “Thank you, Thyra, for your kind words.”

The Administrator’s eyes narrowed, but she did not say anything in response.

Arran and Ailith, on the other hand, crowded forward to look at the weapon. Arran, particularly, admired the design.

“This handle,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve seen something in this design before. You can use it with two hands, obviously, but the ridge… for one-handed use, as well?”

Faye nodded. “Yes, exactly! It had various names back home, but either a hand-and-a-half sword, bastard sword, or even longsword.”

Arran hummed.

“Here, they are called lánnáríd,” the Guild Leader said, “though most people call them longswords. They are, after all, quite long.”

The blade came out to just under a metre in length, which made the design appropriate for a blend between one- and two-handed styles. Anything longer than that would be too unbalanced for most swordfighters.

The Guild Leader continued. “Though a rare design, there are not many who split their style between the two fighting methods, there are plenty of weaponsmiths that would know what to make, if you ever needed another.”

He paused for a moment, then looked Faye directly in the eye.

“You should not need a new sword so quickly, of course, but my profession compels me to tell you that this is not an unknown design in the world.”

Faye nodded. “I understand, Guild Leader, thank you.”

She tied the scabbard to her belt. The way it hung meant it was always at a slight angle, which made it quicker and easier to draw, though it did have the unfortunate side effect of occasionally whacking into things behind you if you were not careful.

The Administrator clapped. “Enough, we are wasting daylight. Adventurers Faye, Gavan, if you would please accompany me. We will get you both outfitted with what we can spare before sending you on your way.”

They nodded and followed after the woman, giving smiles and waves to their friends. As the guild attendants swarmed the pair, pulling off old pieces of clothing and armour and shoving new things into their arms, Faye suddenly paused and called out.

“Wait! I need to run to the training room!”

The attendants paused, and even Gavan looked at her strangely.

“Why is that?” the Administrator asked.

“I desperately need to walk through the cleansing doorway.”

The laughter around her was a joy to hear. These people had been through a lot, and the tenor of the conversation in the last few days had taken on a timbre that worried Faye. Every moment they could find it within themselves to laugh was a moment that the darkness that threatened them all would fade away.

She barely gave them a chance to say no. She turned and dashed through the corridors of the Guild. She would be clean before starting this new adventure.