Wind gusts made the leaves above them rustle and the treetops sway. The elvish column continued its march back to the city the following day. Overall the trip was easy.

None of the captives tried to flee, they seemed to have accepted their fate or there was an element Cire had missed. Magic could have been at play, but Cire hadn’t seen anything being cast. That didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

No monsters attacked them. No wild beasts tried to pick off one of the wounded. It was as if the forest knew their purpose and let them through. Cire was fully aware it was because of their groups size, and that they were in more heavily patrolled areas as they got closer to the Tempest Treetops, but that didn’t change how it felt.

Eliana and the messengers who had come the day before split off from the group as they neared the city. Upon nearing the outer wall the elvish formation reorganized itself. They could all hear faint sounds of music and overlapping conversation.

Obelius stepped up and wove a spell with his staff, green energy flowing from him into the vegetation. The thick wall of brambles slowly unwound and created an entrance big enough for four of them to walk side by side. A crowd of elves, centaurs, satyrs, pixies, and fairies were gathered a little ways from the wall.

The crowd separated and lined up along on either side of the path leading into the heart of the city. Lucas stepped to the head of the procession, a forced smile plastered across his visage. His leather armor had been treated and cleaned, a fresh light green cloak hung from his shoulders. The guard followed him in two lines.

Thankfully, elves didn’t march. Cire’s gait was easy as the students followed the guards in. Obelius led them wearily.

Passing the townsfolk caused the satyrs flutes and lyres to pick up in volume. Cheers rang out from sporadic sections. Small children whistled from the shoulders of their parents. Centaurs stomped their hooves in applause. The pixies and fairies flew overhead and left streams of colored sparks or glittering dust in their passing.

The show of celebration was distracting and chaotic. The gnoll captives had almost slipped Cire’s mind until he heard the jeering. Following up behind the victors were their prizes, trudging along bound and hobbled.

“Murders!”

“Monsters! Demons!”

“Swamp scum!”

Cire concentrated on following the steps of the elf walking ahead of him. Philip’s gleaming plate and tower shield kept a slow pace. Focusing in on the back of the heavily armored elf, Cire took slow deliberate breaths. There was nothing he could do right now, he needed to look ahead.

Following with route steps, Cire almost crashed into Philip’s back as they reached the center of town. While not elegant, groups of six proceeded to step onto the wooden elevator platform and regather up on the main level. Being in one of the last groups made it easy for Cire to confirm that none of the captives or relief guard were brought up.

Gazing out over the pristine park-like atmosphere of the matted branches and the tall wondrous towers, Cire felt more than could put into words the cognitive dissonance of elvish society. It had the veneer of what he had expected, magic and grandeur. What he hadn’t expected, was the vanity and pride woven through the towns culture like the branches supporting the very floor he was standing on.

With a second glance he confirmed that Kepheus, the centaur who had hauled the dead, was not with them either. Cire started to suspect that Calix’s attitude towards anything that threatened the gilded aristocratic balance of this town was more prevalent than he had thought. This celebration reeked of pageantry.

Lucas led the group to the cypress tower at the center of the large mat. When they got close the forms of various nobles could be seen sitting at round tables along their route. The final table held the Tempestnight family. King Zephyr, the sovereign himself, was busy conversing with one of his consorts.

Walking in an easy rhythm, still without a marching step, Lucas kept his neck straight and progressed to the foot of the main table. Going down on one knee, he bowed his head, his chestnut hair sweeping down over his brow.

“Sire, Lucas Rootwine and the guards of the Notus division’s fifth patrol reporting.”

Revealing his thin and tall form, Zephyr stood and let his piercing golden gaze fall upon Lucas. With a pause for dramatic effect, he waited before speaking with a sonorous voice.

“I have heard tale of your exploits in defending our territory and our home lieutenant. I have a place of honor for you at my table. Arise, captain, and take your seat.”

Zephyr looked over the others, guard and students alike kneeling before him. Spreading his arms, his large brown wings followed.

“It is with great honor I welcome you home to the Tempest Treetops. A peaceful, safe place in this savage world. We are gathered here to celebrate those who sacrificed to protect our families and friends. We have suffered losses. In every battle that will be the case, no fighting force is invincible.”

Bringing his hands and wings in, a gentle breeze swirled through the area.

“Arise all and find a seat. Take up a cup and join me in a toast to the elves who have moved on to be reborn in their next lives. May they rejoin us with familiar faces in familiar places.”

Listening, the bottom dropped out of Cire’s stomach as he realized that regardless of the spectacle, he would absolutely have to deliver a similar speech at some point in the future. Zephyr was right, no fighting force was invincible. Death was commonplace in this world.

Cire heard his name being called and turned his head to a table to his side. Duchess Silverstar, Daphne, was sitting flanked by two moon elves he did not recognize. It was plainly apparent from their matching features that they were Daphne’s relatives. Still no expert at predicting elven age without obvious clues, like Eliana’s gray hair or Obelius’ wrinkles, Cire couldn’t wager a guess if they were siblings or children. Selene was at the table as well, her dark black hair contrasting starkly with the others.

“Your grace, thank you for the kind invitation.”

Cire managed to stammer out and quickly took his seat. Offering him a glass filled with wine, Selene practically bored holes through him with her gaze. He only wished he knew what she was trying to communicate. In battle he had grown accustomed to her signals, but this was a different type of arena. Deciding to error on the side of caution, Cire buttoned up and tried to remain as reserved as possible.

Raising his glass to match the others, the odd juxtaposition of returning forces still clad in their filthy armor with the nobles and aristocrats clothed in silk finery appeared stark to Cire. He could see the same look in other students and guards eyes. This wasn’t the type of feast they would prefer to send off the dead with, but it wasn’t their choice.

Filling the empty seat next to Cire, Lander, a wood elf with black hair almost as dark as Selene’s eagerly began filling his plate. Daphne’s eyes lingered on the new students presence briefly before taking up residence on Cire. Her tone was easy, conversational.

“Young master Ciresil, it appears that your patrol was an eventful one. I am pleased that you have returned to us intact. Not even a single scar. Do regale us with a tale or two from the journey.”

“Mother, perhaps we should-” Selene attempted to interject.

“Indeed. Our little sister has been ever so tight lipped regarding your deeds. I am intrigued.”

Alexander, the heir to house Silverstar, sat to his mothers right with a bored expression on his stately features, quite contradicting his words. A look of disgust passed over them as Lander crammed a huge piece of cheese with fig preserve into his mouth. Penelope discreetly hid half her face with a fan, her words anything but disguised.

“It’s not like Selly to travel with anyone, my curiosity has been piqued as well.

A heavy gauntled hand slapped against Cire’s back making him lurch forward. Lander grinned as he wiped his mouth on a quickly discolored napkin. With a hearty, deep resonating tone uncommon for elves he responded without any propriety or understanding of the situation.

“Do you want to know about the timber troll? I thought I was going to die choking on my own sick when the beast hit me with some kind of stink attack.”

Penelope’s nose wrinkled, barely visible above the fan. While waiting for an answer Lander picked up a piece of mutton by the bone and bit a chunk off. No attempt to hid is contempt, Alexander leaned back and scooted his chair a short distance away from the uncouth dining companion.

Duchess Silverstar reigned back in the conversation, a small sharp movement of her hand immediately drawing the attention of her children. Ever the picture of composure, none of her evident displeasure shown in anything else.

“Excuse my house member’s manners. I do not know your name child. Are you also a student from the academy or a member of the guard?”

Swallowing hard, Lander gave a seated bow.

“Lander, your grace. I am a pupil at the academy.”

Daphne nodded politely, her eyes flicking back to Ciresil and reading his expression.

“Perhaps another story, one more appropriate for while we dine. I hear that you took succor at the Scorched Oak of Storms. Is the Matron of Wreath in good health?”

Thankful for Lander’s distraction, Cire he let the brawny wood elf take the lead on relating the facts of their expedition. Eyes roving over the other tables, Cire watched the aristocratic dance play out at each. String and flute music, playing in harmony, cast a light backdrop to the heavy scene.

Lucas and Obelius were sitting at one of the head tables with Zephyr and the other ruling family members. Looking far more comfortable than most of the others, Obelius was resting easy in his chair nursing a long pipe. On the other hand, Lucas looked like a dryad dressed in full plate, intensely uncomfortable.

The Morningdew’s sat across from the Silverstar family at a table placed equidistant from each other and the main table. Katherine sat with a few other moon elves with similar complexions, more sullen expressions on their faces than most, most likely her parents. The two members of the guard sitting at their table looked put out and harried.

Cire wasn’t sure if the Cinnamonswirl family had insisted on a table of equal size to the others, or if there simply hadn’t been a fairy equivalent. Honeydrop and her kin were walking around on their table surrounded by dishes of food that dwarfed them in size. Philip and Fizz were at their table having a lively conversation punctuated by wild gesticulations and raucous laughing. Nutmeg, one of Honeydrops younger brothers, had stuck his entire head inside a pomegranate and was fishing around for the tasty red seeds.

The Goldenspring family had multiple tables, Cire picked out one of the brothers he had met at the ball at each. He was less interested in Sirius, the head of the Bellarian Crafters Guild, than Jace, the head of the local Ionian League Adventurers Guild. Iaso, the student caster from Calix’s party, and a guard were seated at Jace’s table. Many other tables were spread out in a lazy half circle, Cire would have continued watching the various interactions if his attention hadn’t been called back to his own.

“Ohh yeah, Cire was amazing during the battle. I could hardly believe it when I saw him charging the center of the gnoll’s ranks. Wouldn’t have noticed him if it wasn’t for the crazy flip he did right at their wizards. Bought us time to re-organize before Obelius cast a massive summoning.”

Burying itself into the top of his foot, Selene’s heel sharply brought Cire’s attention back to the conversation in a bit of panic. He honestly didn’t know what Lander had already told them. For that matter, he hadn’t really probed the class to see what anyone had noticed of his actions during the fight. Cire did his best to hide the pain and stammered out a question to redirect to a different topic.

“So, you’re Selene’s brother and sister?”

“We didn’t introduce ourselves did we Alexander? Well of course Selene has to have mentioned us. Alexander is the heir to the house and I am the house high mage, Penelope.” Her expression was more playful than Daphne’s, but there was an undercurrent Cire couldn’t put his finger on. She continued, “You are the wildling she found in the mountains. A sun elf vampire to be precise, what a rare treat.”

The way Penelope had described him made him feel like an exotic specimen at a zoo. She hadn’t exactly asked a question, so Cire simply dipped his head awkwardly. He didn’t know what he was sticking his hand into, but the quicker he could disengage the better. Not about to let that happen, Alexander probed further.

“Our house has sponsored your attendance at the academy have we not? Have you received adequate recompense for our gold?”

Cire was a little taken aback by the question and he could see a disapproving reaction flit across Daphne’s face. As far as he knew, he had gotten exceptional value out of his training, but Alexander’s tone suggested heavy disbelief at the prospect. Cire answered the best he could, truthfully.

“Yes, you have and I am most grateful to Duchess Silverstar for the aid. In my estimation I have grown much by the experience. I would like to stay longer, there is much for me to learn.”

Swirling her wine, Penelope took a sip before probing with a follow up. Heavy implications dripping from her words.

“So you will be leaving so soon? Going to follow Selene back to the crags and cliffs?”

Cire’s eyes flicked to Selene’s, which in retrospect wasn’t the best reaction, before looking back to the others. His response lacked his typical surety, Cire honestly didn’t know what he was going to do next.

“I think we will be leaving soon. I am not sure, there are a lot of things to consider before taking my next step.”

The cryptic and purposefully vague answer didn’t seem to appease anyone, but before they could follow up Cire pushed his chair back. Standing, he quickly excused himself.

“Pardon me, I need to go thank a member of my class for some timely healing. Please indulge my absence until I return.”

Walking with a barely noticeable limp, Cire made his exit towards the most distracting table he could find, the Cinnamonswirls. The rest of the celebration tarried well into the early evening. Cire made his rounds with people he wanted to touch base with. The students agreed to meet up with the guard later that evening at one of the bars in the Undergrowth for a more appropriate send off. After today, the two groups would have much different trajectories.

Slipping out from the crowd wasn’t as difficult as Cire had suspected. He collected his new weapon with his backpack as he exited and made his way to the Silverstar families willow tower. A bath, change of clothes, and some time to himself would be splendid before going out later. Stepping right up next to his side, Selene made her escape from the frivolities as well.

“Wait until we can speak privately.”

Cire flashed the handtalk sign for agreement as they made their way. He hadn’t felt that probing Selene for information about her family would be wise, now he had confirmation. Then again, if they had prepared beforehand things might have gone better. It wasn’t too hard to read the situation, but that didn’t mean it was his place to stick his nose in it.

When they made it to the tower Cire split off to clean up and Selene retired to the study for him to join her. It wasn’t the leisurely bath he had been looking forward to, but no longer having a coating of grime and blood was more than a little refreshing. A new pair of clothes made him feel positively extravagant. As distasteful as many things were here, Cire was absolutely going to miss the abundance of creature comforts.

Arriving to the study with a soft knock on the doorway, Cire pushed the curtain aside. He found Selene sitting in a nook next to one of the large bay windows looking out over the expansive courtyard between the towers. Glowing multi-colored lights hung sporadically through the foliage giving off an otherworldly appearance. Selene looked up to Cire, the gentle play of light shading her features and making her appearance soften.

“Sorry about your foot. You were distracted and I don’t know what happened out there. Lander was being very free with his words.”

It wasn’t like Selene to apologize, for anything. She seemed vulnerable, unsure of herself. This whole time around her family she hadn’t been acting like the Selene he knew. Selene had never been exactly talkative, but she hadn’t ever been meek. Cire really didn’t know how to broach the topic, so he gave up trying to finesse it.

“It’s fine. It was the right move, but I don’t think it will matter in the end. I would be very surprised if your mother doesn’t learn the whole story before all things are said and done. That’s actually one of the many things I need to ask you about,” Cire paused to give his next words the weight they deserved.

“But before any of that, are you alright?”

Selene pulled her legs up onto the cushion she was sitting on and hugged them. Knots of tension seemed to release from her shoulders as her chin sank heavily onto her knees.

“No, I’m not. I didn’t think it would be this hard, to bring you here. It isn’t just that my brother and sister are impossible to deal with or even mother. The more time I spend away the more this all…” She waved her hand towards the window. “Feels wrong? I don’t even really know myself. I can’t put it into words.”

Never having been physically close, Cire’s placement of his hand on Selene’s shoulder was somewhat out of place. He gave her a parting squeeze before settling into the nook across from her and looking out over the esplanade below. Without any great insight to impart, Cire fell back on his own self discovery.

“Sorry about that, if I am making things worse. You don’t seem to have the most agreeable family life. I was an only child, so it’s not like I can compare. But I did figure out something important in the midst of finding heaps of questions I need to talk with you about.”

Cire looked back and waited for Selene to make eye contact with him.

“The Chimera’s Mane, Sunset, is my home. It may not be where I started, but it’s where I belong, in this world and before. So, yeah, things here feel wrong. In the Mane, everyone puts each other first, here-” Cire waved his hand to take in all of the towers, “too many of the people are self interested.”

Selene leaned back, pulling her head up, an annoyed look crossing her face. Her attitude had improved, but not in the manner Cire had intended.

“You sure do love to hear yourself talk, maybe do a bit better at listening. It’s a boon from Artemis that you were able to keep that mouth of yours closed this afternoon. You had things to discuss?”

After apologizing, Cire and Selene jumped into a hushed conversation about the patrol, the gnolls, and their next steps. While recounting the battle Cire employed handtalk when referring to sensitive topics. Quick enough on the uptake, Selene ticked off the major unresolved issues at hand.

“We don’t know how much you revealed, or if it is even a concern. We don’t know where the gnolls are truly going, or if they are a threat. It’s time to leave the academy and return to Sunset, but you want to sign up with the Adventurer’s Guild before we leave. Did I get all of that?”

“More or less. Also, I want to go to Gearspoke, but I need to stop by Sunset to pick up the top if we are going to have any money to make purchases. I, we, need to recruit an adventuring party. I might be able to get a couple of the students I’ve gotten to know to join up, but I am counting on you and Durg.”

With a shake of her head, Selene disagreed. “You can count on me, for what it’s worth, Durg too. I doubt you will convince any classmates to leave their education behind. Their families have paid at least through the winter and it is no small amount of coin. Besides, most have years left before they can challenge to graduate. The recognition that comes by finishing your training is worth a lot to most, even discounting the preferential postings they can request.”

Deciding after his earlier faux pas that challenging her statements of self doubt to be unwise, Cire left them unaddressed. “Sure, I know I am not exactly in the same boat as the rest. It’s worth a shot though. I’d like to get a group of four to six, so at least one to three more.”

“Why not see if there are any adventurers looking to join a team at the guild hall? There are always a few. We don’t have to take on anyone we don’t like.”

“Huh, that’s a good idea, I hadn’t even considered that. I would like to recruit people I am familiar with if possible though.”

“Why, do you want to join up with the Adventurers Guild? You haven’t told me that.”

Cire flinched slightly at the question, it wasn’t that he hadn’t been expecting it, it was that the answer was painful to admit. Knowing better than to expect Selene to let him off the hook, he spoke what he already knew.

“Because of the battle, the questions, and my inability to do more. But also because that’s what I have enjoyed doing and what has felt right. Stopping boars, yeti, or timber trolls is necessary. If any of those went unchecked people would die, maybe not the boars, but farms would still have been ruined.”

Cire rubbed the back of his hand, his eyes dropping.

“We won the battle, but it doesn’t feel good. Not after what happened, not after what I learned. I can’t stop seeing the gnoll pups, the captives, and the dead. I need to know why.”

It was Selene’s turn to do the unexpected and place her hand tenderly on the top of Cire’s. He stopped his rubbing. She didn’t say anything for a long while, Selene simply sat with him in silence. As the summer twilight faded more to darkness she stood.

“We need to find out what we can about the gnolls who escaped. I’ll see what I can learn from the guard. You said there were scouts following them?”

“Last I saw, but it’s not like I was in a position to ask. The students weren’t even supposed to be involved in the first place.”

Smoothing out her dress out of habit, Selene nodded. “I can use our house contacts to learn more. There are plenty in the guard who owe their allegiance to House Silverstar and I wouldn’t be surprised if my mother has already requested the information. It’s getting late, go to the Pan’s Bounty and be with the others, if we will be leaving soon this may be one of your last chances for a while.”