When Emilie awoke, though she had known she would awake alone, she couldn’t help but feel cold, even in the morning heat. The bed felt vast and empty, and no amount of stretching her limbs across its surface made even a dent in that feeling. She did, however, feel a warm, tingling sensation ever so faintly dance across her skin as she explored the unoccupied portions of the bed, and flecks of yellow-green blinked into and out of her vision almost too fast to register. Her whole body shook, and she cradled her own face in her hands as her body curled up. I had forgotten the simple happiness of sharing a bed. She was also unaccustomed to the agony of sensing the lingering presence of a departed companion.

It didn’t take her long to find the bathroom, and as she was the first up, the space was all hers for her to freshen up. Not that freshening up takes me very long, she reflected, thinking now many years back to when she resided at the monastery of the sisterhood. She stepped into the shower in just her enchanted chaste shroud.

Being the Sisterhood of Communion, communal living had been the norm, and the last thing any young child wanted to do was share. Even after ascending to hierophant, she did not experience the reality of private living until she’d arrived at Ardour Temple. She frowned as she recalled the first night she’d slept alone there, tossing and turning all night, waking with her head and feet at the wrong ends of the bed. In her callow youth, she had not realised why, and had eventually adapted - even grown to like - sleeping alone. I understand now, though… all these years later, I still miss them. Hearing their soft, rhythmic breathing, surrounded by their warmth. I wonder if our current travels will take us close to the monastery.

She giggled to herself, recalling the time she, Livia, and Krey had shared a tent in the Henifor Plains after the knight had suffered a dire injury. Took all night to stabilise him, she remembered. And I nearly slapped him for grinning at me. All that time, all that distance, all those experiences since that first leg of what was to become a journey far greater than she could’ve imagined…

By the time she was dried off and dressed, the others had begun rousing. Livia and Pippy emerged first, briefly saying good morning to Emilie before shambling into the bathroom together. Through the door, she heard the water of the shower begin running again, and also heard their muffled chatter.

“Ooh!” Pippy chirped, “okay, uh, just get the water warmed up, I’ll be right in! Gotta go first, y’know~”

“What?!” Livia blurted. “You couldn’t have said something before I got in the shower?!”

“Sorry! No stopping it now!”

“Oh for the love of Phyrn!”

Emilie pinched the bridge of her nose and scrunched up her face in second-hand embarrassment.

Krey shortly followed, and Emilie beckoned him into the main living area while the bathroom was still in use. “Good morning, milady,” he greeted with slow, husky intonations. “Oh, wow… my voice hasn’t sounded like this in a good while.”

“Well,” Emilie beamed, “I think it suits you.”

“Be that as it may,” he smirked, “I do hope my normal voice returns sooner rather than later.”

“I’m sure you’ll wash all the gravel off with a nice morning shower… though I’d give it a few minutes to air out first once the girls are done in there.”

Krey’s face twisted with a slightly nauseated breed of amusement. “I shall definitely heed that advice.” He chuckled, stroking his chin. “The girls… you make them sound like… I don’t know… like…”

“Like they’re my daughters, or something like that?”

“As strange as it sounds,” he nodded.

“I suppose that might just be because of the role I’ve found myself in. I’m not really that much older than Livia, and yet…”

“A lot has been expected of you,” Krey interjected. “I know how that can… age a person.”

“I’m going to give you a minute to rephrase that,” Emilie snarked.

“You know what I mean,” he babbled.

“So you’re saying I look youthful and naive?”

“Youthful, perhaps, but not so naive.”

“So I’m cunning, with much guile?”

“By the gods, Your Holiness,” Krey groaned, “are you trying to entrap me?”

Emilie could no longer stifle her laughter. “Forgive me, just humouring myself. It was a game of sorts that we played often growing up in the monastery.”

“Oh?” Krey cocked a brow. “Now I’m curious.”

“The idea is to keep finding new loopholes and angles with which to challenge the exact wording of the other’s statement. It was half a game, and half an exercise; it was supposed to help us become more thoughtful and intuitive as public speakers.”

“Makes sense,” Krey nodded slowly. “More sense than playing matador with razorwolves and banditcats out in Calsa’s northern hinterlands. That’s something some of the apprentice knights did for fun, believe it or not.”

“That makes sense to me,” Emilie said. “It likely made you all better at fighting monsters, a skill that knights of your order no doubt need.”

“Very true,” Krey agreed… his mouth slowly curling up into a bigger grin. “I just preferred going after bigger targets.”

“Ah, I see!” Emilie chortled. “With a white mage nearby, no doubt.”

“But of course,” Krey toned. “The line between bravery and stupidity may be fine, but I do manage not to cross it too often.”

Eventually, they heard the sound of passionate, thought mostly off-key, singing coming from down the hall.

“Pippy,” they heard Livia’s voice say, “I don’t think the acoustics are as favourable out here as they were in there.”

“Aww! You don’t like my singing?”

“I never said that.”

The two of them appeared with towels wrapped around the tops of their heads, and wearing dressing gowns. They sat down on one of the sofas in the ensemble of living room furniture.

“I thought you two had gotten washed down the drain,” Krey greeted with a clearer, smoother voice.

“Sorry we were so long,” Livia apologised. “Pippy wouldn’t stop playing with the water-glow doodad on the shower knobs.”

“It was so pretty!” Pippy cheered.

“The water-what now?” Emilie stammered. “I noticed no such, uh… doodad… while I was in there.”

“Ah,” Krey toned, “figures they’d have one of those here. Certain fancy accommodations will hire artificers to install little magic bells and whistles to make it feel even fancier. I think what Livia’s describing is a night wash aid; it imbues with water with a little bit of lumomantic aura to make washing in the dark easier. The really fancy ones let you adjust the colour, too.”

“Yep!” Pippy nodded. “That’s what they’ve got here!” she grabbed Livia’s arm and leaned up into her face. “Livia, I want one! I need one! Please please please!”

Livia rolled her eyes, sighed, and smiled, freeing her arm of Pippy’s clutches and wrapping it around her instead. “Fine, fine, we can get all the silly little artificer doodads you want… once we even have a place of our own first, y’know.”

“Yippee!” Pippy nearly fell from her seat.

“Well,” Krey groaned through a stretch as he stood, “I guess I’d better take my turn in there now. I won’t be half as long in there as you two, so don’t take too much time air drying, miladies.”

They watched him go, and once he was out of sight, Emilie turned her eyes to Pippy and Livia. The girls… she felt a flutter somewhere lower down in her body. “Pippy… Livia…” she got up and went over to them. “May I… sit between you?”

They glanced at each other and shrugged. “Sure,” Livia said, scooching over one way while Pippy went the other. Emilie slowly lowered herself onto the middle seat, nestling between them. After a moment of hesitation, she raised her arms, and they instinctively moved closer so she could put her arms around both of them.

“Are you okay, Emilie?” Pippy asked with the tender sincerity of a child.

“I am just fine,” Emilie assured her. “Just fine indeed.” She took a deep breath. “I simply… yearned… for…”

Livia was reminded of herself, at several points prior in her life. One that stood out to her in the moment was in Acrevil, where one of the halfling maids where they were staying had sat in her lap, and she’d felt the irresistible need to embrace her. “There’s no need to explain,” she cooed. “I understand exactly how you’re feeling.”

“You do?” Emilie stuttered.

“Sometimes we just need to feel a friendly presence close to us,” Livia continued. “Not everyone gets it, not everyone needs it… but I definitely get it.”

Emilie looked at Pippy now. “How about you? Does it make sense to you?”

“That’s… hmm.” Pippy tried to scratch the top of her head, but just ended up poking the towel she was wearing. “I mean, I get it, but… I’m honestly not sure if I need it as much as, say, you two. I… sometimes lose myself in other people’s emotions. It can be hard sometimes to tell apart my own and those I sense. Well, at least when it comes to the more subtle stuff; anything, uh… up front away from the background, let’s say, is pretty easy to keep track of.”

“Is foreground the word you’re looking for?” Livia teased.

“Thank you, Miss Dictionary!” Pippy blew a raspberry at her.

All three of them started giggling.

Once Krey was done cleaning - and quick about it he was, just as he’d promised - the last stretch of their morning was a whirlwind that got them dressed, geared up, and flung them out the door onto the first ascension of Dalamas (which nearly led to Emilie forgetting to use another glamour, but she remembered just as they were stepping out). The view was just as breathtaking this morning as it had been the day before, and they had to pause for a moment to take it all in before heading down to the ground level of the city.

They took their sweet, sweet time. They knew, soon, they would be leaving here, headed into yet more danger and hardship. When every community is as vibrant and fulfilling as this, Livia mused, it’s no surprise that people are finding ways to ignore what’s happening at the moment. Berodyl was adrift, alone, and if Phyrn’s chosen did not continue their journey quickly, she would soon be robbed of the dwindling few of her surviving creators she had left. But how long can they ignore such a huge loss? Only time would tell.

“Hey,” Krey’s voice suddenly intruded upon her introspection. “Come on, Foggy-Eyes, you got enough sleep last night.”

“What?” Livia looked up at him. “Oh, ha… yeah, sorry. Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Oh, just… just that…”

Krey stopped her and silently gestured at the other two to go ahead and that they’d catch up. “Yes?”

Livia managed to think of something else in time to avoid getting bogged down in a more serious conversation. “Well, if we take it nice and slow today, conserve energy, we could begin our next leg across the sands tonight when the sun goes down, and cover a good bit of ground without getting beaten down by the sun.”

“Not a bad idea,” Krey concurred. “And with the lower temperatures at night, you might even welcome the morning heatwave when it comes… at least for a few hours.”

They continued walking now, and soon caught up to Emilie and Pippy, who had stopped at a street stall offering refreshments. “How big is the next part of desert, anyways?” Livia enquired.

Krey exhaled audibly. “It’s… big. I’d say… three days if we maintain prime pace - which we won’t, realistically - four, possibly five, if we start to really tire… which is likely. The Cinnabar Expanse is not to be travelled lightly.”

“By the boughs,” Livia cursed in a hushed manner. “So that’s why you spent such a big chunk of our money on supplies yesterday.”

“Indeed,” Krey confirmed. “It was mostly normal water, a few aquamantic infusion potions if things get very bad, cryomantic veil motes to keep us a bit cooler for most of the trek, and a pouch of bolstering troches to keep our strength up. Oh, and some food too, of course. And, y’know… other miscellaneous bits and bobs.”

“Sounds like we’re pretty well prepared,” Livia hummed. “How many times have you crossed this expanse, then?”

“Once or twice,” Krey answered somewhat flatly. “I can feel my throat drying out just thinking about it. Even your divine steed may struggle with the heat and shifting dunes.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me,” Pippy hollered. “I’ll tame your oh-so-terrible sands, Sir Knight!” she mockingly fenced at him with an imaginary foil.

“Then you won’t mind letting someone else take the first turn on Danu’s back, then?” Emilie asked as she passed Pippy one of the beverages they’d just purchased.

“I’m happy to go last, in fact!” Pippy boldly stated. “I spent two weeks with the Hanbaya nomads in the scorching outback of Tounoumek! I can handle a little sunshine.”

“I have no idea who they are or what world that is,” Krey said, “but I look forward to seeing if you’re as well conditioned as you seem to claim.”

For the remainder of the day, they stuck to the shade, passing the time mostly idly, conserving energy. Krey and Livia did break off at one point to head back to where they were staying, wanting to get all their new shopping put away in Danu’s saddlebags before the time came to move. Emilie and Pippy, while wandering, found themselves drawn to a circular congregation that was forming in the broad, open space of the main road that cut a huge circle into the ground level of the city. As they approached, many in the circle threw their arms up and cheered… and then again… and again!

“Let’s go see what’s happening!” Pippy blurted, grabbing Emilie’s arm and pulling her along.

“Ack! Wait a moment, Pippy, slow down!” Emilie pleaded desperately, almost losing her footing. She then found herself being dragged through the wall of people toward the centre of the circle. As they got closer, they began hearing the stomping of feet and the clapping of hands, going in a steady, upbeat rhythm.

They stayed just short of the very centre, as the people closest to the action were all engaged in the beating dance that they’d been hearing, and as much as Pippy wanted to join in, Emilie insisted on reminding her of what soon lay ahead of them.

“Fiiine,” Pippy moaned, “no dancing, but I still want to see what’s going on!”

“I must admit,” Emilie said, “I am curious as well. We can observe just fine from here, though.”

A tall, immensely muscular man next to them patted Pippy on the back in a gently manner… nearly knocking her over with his hand that was almost the size of her torso. He spoke with a voice so deep that it sounded as if his larynx had a six-pack. “Have you never seen a match of Pick-A-Posy before?”

“Isn’t that a game the flowerfolk play?” Emilie asked.

“Yes,” the man nodded, “and since a bunch of ‘em set up a lodge in the city, it’s caught on! I wouldn’t be surprised if every city and town in Berodyl was playing it before long, these little fellas do love to get around.” Indeed, in the middle of the ring, a pair of brightly-hued halflings were stomping their feet while circling, high-fiving each other with alternating hands in time with the rhythm of their feet. They both had enormous arrangements of flowers weaved into their long, styled hair, as if they themselves were stems with many flowering buds atop their heads. “They have to mostly use fake flowers around here, since we only have enough growing land for the practical crops, but that hasn’t dampened their spirits, it seems!”

They started picking up the pace, and the front row sped up with them. Then, in a flash, as they approached their maximum speed, they suddenly threw themselves into opposing sideways leans, and darted a hand up to the other’s head. One of them managed to deftly pluck a flower from the ensemble of the other, who was not so lucky. Triumphantly, the winner of the round threaded the flower they’d won into their own arrangement, while the loser pouted and stamped a foot. The crowd laughed, and soon enough, they were slowly building up their little dancing rhythm again, circling and gaining speed.

Emilie gingerly tapped the large man on his enormous bicep to get his attention again. “Does this go on until one’s head is completely bereft of flowers?”

“So the rules say,” the man chuckled, “but it usually ends when they get too puffed out to remember why they challenged one another in the first place! A great way to diffuse tensions, if you ask me.”

“Wait,” Emilie stammered, “they’re not doing this for fun?”

“Of course they are! But don’t be fooled, this is a fierce competition as well!”

“If you ask me,” Pippy added, “that makes it a perfect! WOOOO!” she nearly accidentally smacked Emilie in the face as she thrust her hands up, whooping and cheering as the loser of the last round claimed victory in this one.

No bitterness, Emilie mused, no bottled-up emotions, just an honest game of catharsis. She smiled. And they look so beautiful doing it, too.

By the time the game had ended - in a sweaty, exhausted draw, as fate would have it - dusk was fast approaching. Emilie and Pippy had started making their way back to the house, but it seemed that all four of them had had the same idea, and they found themselves reconvening halfway. They found a restaurant to get one last good meal in them before setting off, and then headed for the eastern checkpoint. With the late sun to their backs, casting a blanket of purples and oranges ahead of them, they gathered their well-rested and renewed spirits, ready to brave the fiery void.

Livia summoned Danu, and Emilie took first turn on the mighty mare’s back. The hierophant felt a presence ahead of them, a taut turbulence vibrating just beneath the surface of consciousness. Something is out there, she knew, but remained silent on it for now. O’ Phyrn, thought it be not your domain, continue to guide our feet along the hot, shifting earth. For the first time in her life, she was unsure if her prayer was heard.