Valera slumped down, feeling more exhausted than the day should have warranted. She hadn’t really done anything - especially compared to some of her more recent days - but her subconscious mind seemed to disagree. Maybe it was the stress. She knew that Councilman Port was just trying to maneuver Orken into a more advantageous position - something that was necessary if they were to push for Virtun’s punishment for their delegation’s crimes - but that didn’t change one simple fact.

Politics were exhausting.

Still, for all his flaws, the man was good at it. Though it helped that Orken really did have quite a few advantages, thanks to the Little Guardian’s efforts. Ones that, as far as Valera was aware, were wholly unique. Even tales she’d heard of the wonders of some of the inner cities, where Cores were both abundant and tightly controlled, didn’t compare to what the Little Guardian could accomplish so easily.

Mostly because, unlike those wonders, Orken’s Little Guardian was far more mobile. And, more importantly, it didn’t seem to cost anything to recreate them. Nothing that anyone had noticed, anyway. Otherwise, Valera doubted that the little guy would create them so nonchalantly. In fact, the only real cost seemed to be his increasingly exacting standards on how well-sculpted any potential Guardian Statues were.

Though, Valera thought, that makes things sound less of a problem than they actually could be. A tiny snake somehow made a craftsman cry in frustration today.

Given he couldn’t even speak, that was almost impressive.

Now, that same snake was nestled into a makeshift nest in the corner of Valera’s room, either asleep or focusing on growing the forest that bordered Orken. Valera couldn’t actually tell; snakes didn’t actually close their eyes when they slept, and she was too tired to peek outside and see if the forest was noticeably growing.

Valera leaned back, letting her back rest against the mattress below her. It was still uncomfortably soft after so many days spent sleeping in squalor. She shifted, fidgeted, and squirmed. Closed her eyes.

Opened them again. Sleep wasn’t going to come, no matter how exhausted her mind felt. Her body wouldn’t allow it. Maybe the [Little Guardian’s Totem] around her neck was part of the problem; it was uncomfortably warm, in that still-comforting way that it tended to be when affected by multiple Guardian Statues, the other two finally finished earlier in the day. Under the watchful eyes of Erandur’s ‘esteemed citizens’, of course. Councilman Port wasn’t one to miss an opportunity, and displaying the actual creation of one of the wondrous statues was certainly that. He had even somehow convinced one of the three, through more cajoling than Valera would have ever been comfortable with, to give themself a small wound after attuning to the new Guardian Statues. They had been properly amazed when it healed instantly; she could have sworn she saw the Councilman’s eyes light up when they asserted their intention to recommend the purchase of a set of Guardian Statues within their own city.

Which was, of course, the whole point of inviting them to Orken in the first place. Not that he missed the opportunity to entice them with things that she knew hadn’t previously been planned. The fruits of the forest - and the forest itself - chief among them. And, of course, he didn’t hesitate to mention the fact that the fruit’s special kick came from an element of danger - that, if their city wanted to benefit from the easy source of food that it represented, they would need to buy Guardian Statues.

A package deal, he had said.

Valera’s thoughts turned away from the sales pitch, focusing again on the necklace pressed against her skin, pulsating with a gentle light. Uncomfortable in that the warmth it gave off almost felt too much, like pure sunlight in her veins. Not that Valera had ever seen sunlight. Or likely ever would.

Still, she could imagine it. And besides, she couldn’t make any other comparison to the warmth running through her. One that gave a comforting energy, yet filled her with the need to move and dance about. Cheerful.

Even if it was currently making it hard for her to sleep. Valera wondered about that. To a certain degree, it reminded her of the infusions of strength given by the Little Guardian, though significantly weaker. Almost unnoticeable with one Guardian Statue, but familiar enough to her now with three that she could make the comparison.

It had interesting implications; Valera would have to remember to bring that up with the others. If she was right, bearers of the [Little Guardian’s Totem]s might find themselves becoming increasingly mana-infused over time.

Kal would need to be warned of the possibility. The nullsmith had complained more than once of the few times that he had been forced to strip himself of incidental mana infusions in order to retain his manaless body, light as the accidental infusions were. His own [Little Guardian’s Totem] might need to be saved for emergency uses only.

That was a shame; some emergencies were so, well, emergent that any delay in response was too much of one. Still, he hadn’t had access to healing before the Guardian Statues came along. He would have to make do without. And, with any luck, the forest that now bordered the city - in combination with the null-water that it rested beside - would be enough to keep the smith from ever needing that healing in the first place.

Despite the potential problems that Kal would face, Valera couldn’t help but hope that her guess was right. A gentle form of mana-infusion could do a lot to increase the city’s safety. Maybe even turn some of the little gremlins into Seekers, eventually. Idiots that they were, a lot of them seemed pretty set on it as a vocation, based on a few of the rambling conversations that she had overheard.

They felt so protected by the Little Guardian that they didn’t quite see the dangers of being a Seeker. A Guardian Statue wouldn’t always be around to smooth over their cuts and scrapes. Still, that was a problem for the future. They were young. They’d probably grow out of it.

A door opened and closed elsewhere in the barracks, hinges squealing with the movement. That needed to be fixed. Footsteps followed it and, a few moments later, Valera wasn’t quite so alone anymore.

“Hey, you two,” Valera greeted the new occupants of the room. Doran smiled, waving, while Elara - armor and sword conspicuously absent - leaned awkwardly against the open doorframe. The girl still sometimes felt a little out of place within the group, Valera thought, even after everything they’d gone through together. She shouldn’t have.

Valera gave her a gentle smile, receiving one in turn.

“Where’ve you been?” Valera asked. “You missed Port’s sales pitch. Riveting stuff.”

““You can only watch a bunch of plants grow for so long before getting a little bored, you know? Even if those plants are growing faster than they should. I went ahead and took Elara to get that sword checked out with Kal,” Doran answered. “Ended up leaving her armor with him, too. He was…excited. By both. Said something about…” he paused, hand reaching up to tug at his ear. “Well, I don’t really remember what he said. Some nullsmith stuff that just went right over my head. You know how he gets. Secret techniques this, mana that, and by the time he was done, I had already forgotten it all. He didn’t seem to notice.”

Valera smiled again at that, having been the recipient of such a talk more than once while visiting the man. Though most of those had been hypothetical; she imagined that, when faced with really interesting techniques from other nullsmiths, like whatever went into the creation of Elara’s stolen armor, Kal was far more excitable.

“Sales pitch?” Elara interjected, seemingly curious. “Did we miss something important?”

“Well, let’s just say that I hope you didn’t agree to let Kal keep hold of your equipment for too long,” Valera said. “It probably won’t be many days before we’re heading out again. Port acted the merchant to some outsiders, and his sales pitch was effective enough that we’ve already got our next destination decided.

“Erandur, the City of One Hundred Towers.”