Blood and Tea

A story from Lightsfail

Kyrah stood before the doors of the finest tea shop in the land, The Blood and Tea of Lightsfail.  The shop stood in the capital of Brezia, which had been built into the massive crater of a meteorite that hit the world long before memory or written records could recall.  Within the wealthier part of the city, the Arcade Circle was a center of commerce.  Many buildings built into the slightly slanting ground of Lightsfail of the Arcade Circle were home to accomplished craftsmen.  Famed jewelers, glassblowers, blacksmiths, tailors, shoemakers, leatherworkers, and a small handful of magic shops all called the Arcade Circle home.  The Blood and Tea was unique among these, as it was the only shop in all of Lightsfail that was dedicated to the selling and serving of tea (among other less popular drinks).  Tea and other beverages were generally the secondary province of an inn, restaurant or boarding house. For an established, and indeed famous, shop to focus on tea as its primary source of income was unheard of until the Blood and Tea.  But Masters can do as they please in Brezia, having earned their surname by absolute mastery of whatever craft or trade they chose to study, and Embrose Masters knew tea. She knew tea the way a seasoned captain of five decades knew the sea.  She was a true master of her craft, and the Blood and Tea was her unmitigated passion.  The Trade Guild had even loaned her the cost of the buildings purchase, upon bestowing her the surname Masters.

So Kyrah stood before the doors of the finest (and only) tea shop in the land and attempted to garner her courage to enter once more.  She focused on the small sign that read “Employment possibilities, enquire within.”  Setting her jaw, she swallowed hard once and stepped inside, causing a small silver bell to jangle pleasantly above the door.  The door itself was an impressive item, worth more than Kyrahs meager possessions by a factor of at least twelve, she estimated. It was a rich dark hardwood, solid feeling while still opening lightly.  Finely worked bronze hinges attached it to the wall, and each had small etching scrollwork along the insides.  Glass windows inset the door, from top to bottom, causing the light to catch and twinkle across the room.  Glass was not cheap, especially when crafted to this level of sophistication.  The tiny silver bell chimed again as she turned to close the door.

The inside of The Blood and Tea was breathtaking for the girl.  The wall she was nearest housed two booths with ceiling tall backs to the seats, creating a small cave of privacy at each of the snug tables.  Four people could squeeze into them if they liked each other well enough, and the tiny slab of wooden tabling at each was dark stained oak, suspended above the floor by a central stand of burnished iron.  The leather on the seats was dyed a deep burgundy, matched perfectly to the thick curtains at each window and door.  Lanterns hung every ten paces or so, dimly lit with a pleasant smelling smoke emanating from them.  As Kyrah cast her gaze around the smallish room, she noticed another series of small tables lifted from the floor with steel poles, surrounded by tall pine chairs with high backs.  The back wall was adorned with more privacy booths, only one of them being used.  As Kyrah took a few tentative steps in, she took in the rest of the shop.

A bar she could lean on comfortably stood to her left, made from highly polished dark wood.  Behind it, a series of wooden racks held brightly colored small boxes, with gold emblazoned labels beneath them, indicating the names of various teas for sale.  The boxes were each tiny, easily small enough to fit standing in the palm of one’s hand, but each was vibrantly painted.  A series of curtains draped from the ceiling at regular intervals, doubling to hide the support beams and further dampen the travel of voices.  

A woman those without manners may have described as overweight stepped around from a counter, wiping her hands on a clean cloth with a broad smile. She was beautiful for certain, her extra weight not at all out of place on her.  She had once received a letter from a lusty admirer who described her as “Curvaceous beyond reasonable expectation.”  She was endowed of a weighty bosom, and dressed moderately to avoid lengthy stares in that area.  Her wavy hair was a deep reddish brown, and trailed part of the way down her back.  When she smiled at Kyrah, it nearly caused the poor girl to collapse from nerves.

“Fine morning, lass! What can I get for you today?”  Her voice was smooth, while managing to boom across the corners of the shop.  Kyrah stumbled to reply.  “I..I ah…I saw your sign…”  Embrose smiled again, untying the apron she was wearing and tossing it across the bar.  She stepped past Kyrah and locked the front door, turning a small sign to show the words ‘closed for a bit’.  She looked over Kyrah for a moment, taking in the girl and her plain dress at a glance. Kyrah wore the nicest dress she owned, simple green cotton.  It was modest, but not poor or threadbare.

“Well, you won’t get rich working at a tea shop, I’ll tell you that up front.  That said, it does for a living.”  Embrose spoke while walking to the bar and reaching behind it, producing a simple leather tobacco pouch.  “Join me on the patio, if you’re still interested.  Hoy Nicolai, stepping out for a tic.”  The man in the corner waved a dismissive hand towards them, never looking up from his book.

Kyrah followed her outside meekly, again taken aback by the view. The outdoor seating area was comfortable and small, but it looked out over the main thoroughfare for the Arcade Circle.  A close gathering of three small wooden tables with seating for three each was all that the patio contained.  A burgundy cloth awning stretched over the patio area, providing much needed cover from the light snow dusting down onto the city.  Simple bronze railings kept the patio separate from the road proper.  Embrose pulled out two chairs at the nearest table and motioned for Kyrah to sit in one as she sat in the other with a contented sigh.  She began rolling a cigarette after tapping out a small amount of rich smelling tobacco onto a small piece of thin paper. “So tell me about yourself, love.”

Kyrah fingered the small ribbon she wore around her neck, a nervous habit she had picked up recently.  “Ah, my name is Kyrah Bennom.  I was orphaned in Kingfisher some months ago, came to Lightsfail looking for work.”  Embrose offered her the cigarette, tapping out more tobacco. “Ah, no thank you…I don’t smoke.”  A strange look came across her face then, and Embrose raised an eyebrow, her hand still extended.  Kyrah snatched the cigarette, forcing a small smile.  “May as well try it.”  Her host smiled and rolled another.

Embrose produced a small stick of wood with a vibrant blue painted across one tip, and then popped it to life with a thumbnail.  She lit Kyrahs cigarette first, and then her own, drawing deeply as she sat back and waved out the match.  Kyrah sucked a small amount of smoke into her lungs, before exploding in forceful coughing.  She waved a hand in front of her while coughing for a moment before dabbing at her eyes and recovering.  Embrose simply smiled at her.  “In your own time, sweetheart.”  Kyrah nodded at that before taking another tiny puff and looking at the cigarette appreciatively.  “This is actually kind of nice.”  Embrose tapped her cigarette into a copper saucer serving as an ashtray and smiled slightly.

Kyrah realized she had stalled midway through her story and picked up again, somewhat anxiously.  “Oh, right. So yeah, just came here looking for work.  A trade, hopefully, but honestly I’ll happily take a living right now.”  She carefully drew smoke from the cigarette, exhaling with a light cough before continuing.  “My father was a land owner in the Kingfisher area, he raised sheep.  Well, not him, but men he hired.  Mother told me we were wealthy, but I inherited very little, so I seem to be on my own in a world that requires money in great quantities to even draw breath.”  Embrose snorted at that, nodding.  “Indeed it does.  So the orphaning ruined your chances to marry into a high born family, I’m guessing.”  Kyrah scowled, nodding as she looked into her lap.  “I don’t fully understand it all, but I’m told that father owed the city government a large amount of money when he and mother fell ill.  They took the land and sheep ranch in payment of his debt, and I was left with a pittance.”

Embrose shook her head, looking out over the hustle of the main road.  “No way to tell if you were grifted, as it’s the government officials doing the grifting if that’s what it was.  Dirty way to come into your womanhood, I’m sorry.  How old are you, seventeen?”  Kyrah flushed slightly, keeping her gaze downward.  “I turned nineteen last month.  Celebrated in a roadside tavern by myself as well, not how I imagined it coming up.”  Embrose nodded with a sigh, smoke curling about her hand.  “Such is life sometimes.  Moving away from upsetting topics, do you know much about tea or coffee?  We serve mostly tea, but coffee can be popular as well.”  Kyrah glanced up with a wry smile.  “Well, I know only a madman puts milk in his cup before the tea.”

Embrose snorted smoke, before leaning back in her chair and laughing openly.  “Right you are.  The job’s not properly difficult; it’s just a lot of busy work. I’d need you to wash up, help with orders, run errands, serve tables, general cleaning, that sort of thing.  We open early, generally just before dawn, and I’d need you to be here at dawn or close enough each day.  I’d pay you a block a week, with a bonus block at the end of every month.”  Kyrah looked up, her eyes widening.  “You mean to say I can have the job?”

Embrose snuffed out the remains of her cigarette and stood up, pushing her chair back.  “Well, to start anyway.  I can’t promise I won’t sack you if you steal from me or break too much, but I imagine that goes at any place of employment.”  Kyrah stood quickly and nodded.  “I’ll start today, I don’t mind.  And I’ll be careful!”  Embrose held the door for her and chuckled.  “You WILL break cups, don’t lose sleep over it.  I won’t be trusting you with our good porcelain just yet, but most of what we have isn’t that dear anyway.  Sometimes on cold days like this and what’s coming the cups just split from having hot tea poured into them anyway.”  Kyrah nodded and followed her inside.  The man who had been seated was gone, and Kyrah frowned as Embrose unlocked the front door again.

She accepted an apron and began the process of learning all there was to aiding Embrose in her tea business.  The apron she was equipped with turned out to be finer than most of the clothing she owned.  She was also given a clever pad of scrap paper with glue along one side of it, so the sheets could simply be torn free when they were full.  She quickly learned to only use it for larger orders, or orders she was unsure she could remember the full name of.  Within two hours of her arrival, the shop had filled with customers eager to have a cup of fine tea or coffee after their lunches.  She became adept quickly at wiping down the tables to get fresh groups of guests into them, as the crowd hanging around outside the shop grew almost as big as the one inside spending money.

Kyrah filled orders for Northern Highland, Dwarven Silk, Misty Leaf, Midnight Blue, and several variations of herbal teas.  A mint and lemongrass tea served just below boiling temperature was a popular item as well, a house specialty that Embrose mixed herself.  Kyrah found herself sweating to keep up, in spite of the encroaching winter outside.  There was an oddly shaped long oven behind the counter that had ten stove top ranges, each of which could be changed with a heavy mechanical dial set into the front of the oven.  Each dial corresponded with a range top, and a series of metal panels coated with ceramic changed position to control the heat coming from the belly of the oven.  Embrose had each range going, adjusting the temperatures and adding firewood occasionally from a small portal in the wall beside it.  She practically danced between them, expertly brewing each cup or pot of tea separately.  Kyrah tried to imagine her doing all of that while also serving tables, and shook her head.

It seemed like Embrose had hundreds of different kettles.  Some were bright burnished copper; others had the telltale dark sheen of cast iron.  Some were peaky tall things with odd spouts; others were squat and broad across the bottom.  Kyrah had enough time to boggle at these things, but not to ask any questions.  She scrambled to fill orders, and failed at attempting to keep them all in order in her mind.  She delivered incorrect orders three times, and dropped a tray of seven tea cups, all of which broke.  Before she could panic, a large man with bushy sideburns knelt to help her collect the pieces with a friendly smile.  Embrose laughed and smiled knowingly as Kyrah hurried past to the mop and bucket kept ready for just such an occasion.  “Told you as much, lass.  Don’t fret on it, just get it cleaned up and come back to me for the replacements.”

After an hour of frenzied service, the Blood and Tea finally served its final tea time customer and Kyrah was able to take a breath and talk to Embrose as she bustled around the kitchen area.  Embrose showed her the water system, explaining the pipes that circled the city and the modifications she had to her building in order to operate.  The city took its water from a nearby lake and had a gravity fed aqueduct system that led to pipes in massive spiraling circles all around the inner walls of its construction.  Any building with an owner wealthy enough had pipes installed that fed from this central system, and so had water at demand.  They washed the dishes together, pausing to serve any customers who trailed in.

        Only once every item used had been washed, dried, and put away in its proper place did Embrose pick up her tobacco pouch and shake it questioningly at Kyrah. Before they could enjoy their cigarettes very much, the encroaching cold drove them back inside.  Embrose locked her doors and sat down at an empty table, motioning Kyrah to sit across from her.  “Well, I think you did well for your first day.  Happy to have you back tomorrow if you’re still interested.”  Kyrah nodded vehemently.  “Yes, I actually enjoyed it.  That rush was a bit scary, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”  Embrose nodded.  “Twice a day, we get that way. The rest of the time it’s pretty quiet and nice though.”  After a moment of thought, she added.  “Where are you staying?”

        Kyrah blanched slightly.  “Um, the Three Legged Dog?”  Taken aback slightly, Embrose snorted.  “That place won’t do.  Don’t get me wrong, I like the joint. Owner is a real soft touch, and that dog Chaser is a wonderful beast.  To be frank, it’s just too far. You’d never make it to work by the time I needed you.  You’d be bogged down by the morning crowds trying to make it uphill.  Run and grab your things, I’ll have a word with my neighbor and get you set up across the street.”  Kyrah nodded.  Embrose vanished up a set of stairs for a few moments, returning wearing a long leather coat with a thick woolen interior.  She had a similar coat over one arm, and offered it to Kyrah.

        “It’s my old coat. I somehow grew too…oh what’s the word, voluptuous for it some years back.  No point in it gathering dust in my closet upstairs.”  Kyrah shook her head with a small smile.  “I couldn’t.  Thank you so much for the thought, but I don’t really mind the cold.  It’s not even proper cold out yet, besides. Looks to be winter won’t fully show for a month yet. I’m sure by then I can afford one.”  Embrose shrugged, tossing the spare coat over a nearby table.  “I won’t begrudge you a bit of pride, but don’t freeze yourself to death on account of it.  Pride is the domain of foolish men.”

        She looked up at a silhouette in her door, as a small tapping sounded in the room.  “Speaking of…”  She opened the door to a guardsman, in a shabby version of their uniform coat, but missing the uniform pants and tabard.  He stood hat in hand with a gentle smile on his bearded face.  Kyrah looked him over quickly.  He was broad shouldered and poorly groomed, his hair and beard slightly wild for need of a comb and some wax.  At his waist, an axe for splitting firewood hung from a simple leather loop.  Embrose crossed her arms. “Sir Loothem.  I see you’ve found my door after all.  Watch for ones like this Kyrah, insidious beasts.  He doesn’t even like tea, prefers coffee like some kind of barbarian.”

        When he spoke, his voice was deep and surprisingly gentle.  “My lady. Ladies.  I was unavoidably detained, I offer my deepest apologies.”  Embrose broke her stern countenance with a smile.  “Oh, you fret like a proper gentleman, stop it.  I have a minor errand to attend, then we can search out a meal.”  She turned to Kyrah.  “Kyrah, this is Sir Loothem, a Keeper of the city of Lightsfail, and my consort.  We have dinner plans, and I suppose I shall honor them in spite of his tardy nature.”  Kyrah swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.  “A Keeper?  Isn’t there only four of those?”

        Loothem nodded grimly.  “Five at last count, my lady.”  Kyrah stood for a moment, uncertain of herself.  “You…ah, must be a mighty knight.”  Embrose burst out in decidedly unladylike laughter at that, before composing herself and making a soothing noise at Loothem.  She motioned Kyrah out, and then locked the door behind them.  “Come, mighty knight. Escort your lady on her errand, and we can see about some supper.  I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning Kyrah.”  She looped her arm gracefully through his, and slyly pinched him when Kyrah was out of sight.  To his credit, Loothem maintained his composure.

        Kyrah walked busily down the gently sloping streets, turning at the crossroads she had memorized in the day before.  She felt her own embarrassment hot on her cheeks, but decided it to be for the best.  At worst, the Keeper thought her a fresh faced and possibly stupid girl.  Better that than having the wrong side of a Keepers attention.  Everyone across Brezia had heard of the Keepers of Lightsfail, and knew they acted with near impunity, a physical extension of the law.

Arriving at the Three Legged Dog tavern and inn, she spent a few moments enjoying the affections of the taverns claim to fame.   Chaser was a middle aged fat yellow dog, missing one of his front legs at the chest.  She had never met a happier dog in all her young life.  He seemed to remember each patron as if they were his own personal best friends, and clumped over to her waggling his oversized rump in greeting.  She scrubbed at his ears and laughed when he made a satisfied groaning noise and fell roughly onto his side to bring his rear leg up in a rhythmic thumping motion.

        She explained to the innkeeper, a bushy mustachioed dwarf behind a grimy counter.  He happily congratulated her on the new appointment, and groused about what a wonderful tea shop it was she would be working at.  After insisting she eat dinner before leaving, he prepared her a meal of salted pork steak and roast potatoes.  She slyly fed Chaser under the bar while laughing and talking with the friendly Dwarf through her meal.  He ended the conversation by saying he would have to find time to come up and get a proper cup of Dwarven Silk.  (Which is nothing but Northern Highland with a healthy splash of Dwarven Brandy mixed in.)

        She gathered her precious few possessions and loaded them into her shoulder bag, padding the fragile bits with her spare clothing.  A spare homespun dress, in a deep blue color, and two sets of traveling clothes; simple grey woolen tunics and a pair of dark leather trousers.  She tucked her underthings into the bottom of her bag, and carefully packed some lengths of ribbon in on top.

        Avoiding the sudden rush of carriages and crowds in the main streets, Kyrah took a series of staircases that lead back up to the Arcade Circle.  They wound up and through several neighborhoods, some residential, some industrial.  The air was heavy with the smell of wood smoke, and most chimneys were puffing pleasantly.  It was evening by the time she made it back to the Arcade Circle and found the Blood and Tea once more.  She looked across the street and took in the wide squat building there.  A sign hung that said “The Gentlemans Collar” above a garishly purple doorway.

        She pushed open one of the side by side doors and stepped cautiously inside.  The entrance alcove led directly into a small lobby, with a pair of benches flanking the entrance.  They were thick overstuffed things with that same off putting purple color as the exterior of the building.  Lamps were hung along the walls at regular intervals, keeping the area very well lit, in spite of a lack of windows.   A dark wooden counter stood between two staircases, with hallways leading off in either direction.

A man with a sharp face and slick dark hair in an immaculate brown tailored suit stepped around the counter, holding a pad of paper.  “Green dress, ribbon at neck, black hair, somewhat…thin.  Yes, I’ve been expecting you.  You’re Embroses new girl, yes?”  Kyrah nodded mutely, cringing slightly at the man’s wheedling tone.  “Follow me please.”  He motioned for the stairs, not offering to carry her bag.  As they walked, he talked almost incessantly over his shoulder to her.  “Your first months stay is a courtesy of the house, but rent is expected on the first day of each month hereafter.  You will be staying in one of our smaller rooms, and your rent is one block, six piece per month.”  She nodded as he glared at her for some kind of confirmation, before leading her down to the second floor.  “There is no gambling in this boarding house, I will not tolerate it.  Firewood is supplied as part of your rent, but you are responsible for keeping the fireplace clean.  I inspect the rooms once every two days, and I will not tolerate a messy fireplace.  The boiler will provide hot water to your room through the pipes from five o clock in the morning until nine o clock at night.  While we do not have a kitchen, food and drink are permitted. You will be responsible for keeping your room clean.  I do not require you make your bed each day or anything so infantile, but I will not tolerate a dirty room under my roof.  Pets and children are not permitted, but you may have guests so long as you do not disturb your neighbors.”

They stopped before a door at the end of the second floor hallway, and he handed over a key on a short length of ribbon.  Still reeling from his tirade of instructions, she started blankly at the key for a moment before taking it.  “Ah…thank you.”  He frowned seriously.  “Thank Embrose.  Her reference weighed much in your acquisition of this room.  My name is Tomlin, and you can find me in the room behind the counter on the ground floor if you need anything.”  With that, he left her standing in front of the door.  After a moment, she used the key to open the door and went inside.

The room was dark, but a little moonlight shone in through the window.  She used it to find a lamp on the wall by the door.  Using the striker hanging from a thin cord next to it to light it, she turned it up to illuminate her new room.  Tomlin had called it small, but it dwarfed her room at the Three Legged Dog.  It was easily the biggest room she had called hers.  The entire room was covered in a lush carpet of woven wool, and a small door led off into a bathroom opposite the large window.  Immediately to the left of the door was a small sitting area, with a round wood table and two comfortable looking leather armchairs.  To her right was a large floor to ceiling curtain, behind which a four post double feather bed sat.  A modest fireplace was nestled into the wall beside the bed, near enough to provide heat during cold nights.  She laid her bag down and sat on the bed, pleasantly surprised by how soft it was.

The wall opposite the door housed a large square window, which latched in the middle and opened over the residential area below and behind her new boarding house.  Kyrah crossed the room and cautiously opened the double windows, peering out into the encroaching night.  She spent a few moments just watching people come and go through the streets, listening to the muted sounds of a nearby tavern.  Music floated up to her and the sounds of laughter mixed with jovial shouts.  She leaned there and listened, a small smile on her face.  After a little while, she left the window open and walked into the bathroom.

A deep copper tub filled most of the small room, squatting on the white tiled floor.  A sink and mirror were in an alcove next to it, and a water closet stood opposite, behind the door.  She marveled at the last, having never had opportunity to use one.  After she satisfied her curiosity about the mechanism, she drew a hot bath.  She noted how quickly she was becoming used to the miraculous and luxurious in this modern city as she lounged in her bath.  There were even pleasant smelling bath salts and a chunk of expensive soap set into a small dish in the side of the tub.

After the water was long cold, she drained the tub and dried off with a sheet sized thick cotton towel.  Closing the window and snuffing the lamp, she walked to her new bed and inspected a curious object sitting on a tiny nightstand beside it.  It was a winding clockwork alarm, which could be set to ring a pair of small bells up to ten hours after it was wound.  Kyrah estimated at the time and wound the alarm, hoping it would wake her before dawn.  She closed the window and slipped into bed, kicking at the sheets until she was comfortable.  After a few moments, she curled her legs up to her chest and began to silently weep.

        Kyrah awoke in a panic, her heart fluttering in her chest as her sleep clogged mind tried to identify the harsh clanging sound in her room.  She cast about in the dark until her hand stilled the alarm, and then flopped back onto her pillows, breathing heavily for a moment.  Remembrance flooded her, and she threw aside the covers and stepped quickly to the window.  It was still dark, to her relief.  Dressing quickly, she threw on one of the simple grey woolen tunics she had, tucking it into her belted trousers and left her room, locking the door.  She pulled her hair behind her head and rolled it into a simple ponytail, using a ribbon to tie it in place.  Her hand went to her throat and checked the placement of the thick ribbon she wore there, adjusting it slightly.

        A light snow had hit the city in the night, and the streets were slick with dirty slush.  Kyrah avoided it, not wanting to get her simple shoes wet as she crossed the sleepy street.  She waved cheerily to a lamp tender, who grumpily shrugged as he went about his route.  The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted her as she pushed the door of the tea shop open, closing it behind her as the now familiar bell tinkled above her head.  Embrose came out of the kitchen area, wiping her hands on a cloth with a smile.  “Good morning Kyrah! I’m glad you are here so early, I have deliveries for you to make and I need you to pick up a couple of things for me as well.”  Kyrah nodded to Sir Loothem as he bustled past, muttering a polite greeting while attempting to hide the embarrassed blush obvious on his cheeks.  Embrose continued as she turned and opened the door to the basement, gesturing for Kyrah to follow her.  “You’re going to miss the morning rush, but that’s fine.  I can handle it, and I really need these errands run.  I’m sending you across town, so I would have had to close down to get over there myself.”

        Kyrah looked over the many storage containers in neat rows throughout the basement as they entered.  There were shelves covered with jars and small boxes spread evenly throughout the room.  Against the side wall sat a strange contraption filled with tiny brass tubes and large glass bulbs.  One corner was dedicated to storage for very small barrels. There were several of the empty barrels stacked neatly, with various labels spackled to their sides.  A handcart that held three of them stood near a large metal door set into the thick stone of the wall.  Embrose stepped over to the door and withdrew a large bolt from it, swinging it open onto a well-lit stone hallway.

        Kyrah peered into the doorway, and then turned to look at Embrose.  “Ah, right.  I forget you are new in this city.  This is the Under-Road.  You’ll be making your deliveries via this way in the mornings.  Lightsfail was built by the Dwarves after all; the bones of the city are still Dwarven.”  Kyrah leaned around the doorway, looking into the hallway.  Cut stone made up the walls and ceiling, with thick metal bracings every twenty paces or so holding up the roof of the tunnel.  The metal bracings also served to support large pipes that ran all along the ceiling, with branches of smaller pipes jutting into the walls in various places.

        As Kyrah boggled at the complex Under-Road, Embrose poured over a small sheet of paper she held, re-checking everything to her satisfaction.  She chuckled slightly, turning to look at Kyrahs obvious amazement.  “I do love how wonderfully modern this city can be sometimes.  You’ll have plenty of time to sight see the tunnels lass, don’t fret.  I need these pony kegs delivered.  First one is three doors down to your left.  Next is back this way, four doors to the right of MY door, and the last is next door to that.”  She took a breath, noting the wide eyed look Kyrah was giving her.  “After you’ve finished those, I need you to swing up a level and fill my daily order at the grocers five doors back to the left of that ramp.  I’ve got your list all set for you, it’s actually much simpler than I’ve made it sound, and if you DO get lost you can just flag down a city watch member and they’ll help you find your way.  They patrol the Under-Road day and night, it’s perfectly safe.”  Kyrah took the list and blinked a few times, trying to clear the confusion from her mind.

Embrose took her hand.  “It’s really alright girl, don’t be afraid.  The Under-Road is really quite boring once you’re used to it, and these are all regular orders, so you need not collect payment.  You won’t need to pay at the grocer either, we have that all arranged through the Bank of Lightsfail.  Don’t brook them trying to whittle coin from you.  Now be off, I need you back here sharpish.”

Kyrah read the list twice before looking up to see Embrose climbing the stairs back to the front room.  “Good Luck!”  She called over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.  Kyrah shrugged, pulling the cart out into the Under-Road and closing the basement door behind her.  She rechecked her list, before starting down the wide stone corridor to her left.  The Under-Road was lit by long hanging troughs that burned with a soft light and gave off no smoke at all.  Each trough was roughly a dozen paces long and only a handbreadth wide, with about fifty paces between them.  As Kyrah walked, she noticed the stones on the ceiling of the Under-Road seemed to reflect the light, causing it to illuminate the entire tunnel.

Looking at her list again, she stopped before a metal door set into the wall.  A sign above it read “The Weeping Guardsman”, which matched her first delivery.  Kyrah pulled a cord, and heard a faint bell in the distance.  After a brief wait, the door opened and revealed a portly man in a spotless apron with a finely trimmed beard.  He frowned and took a moment to look both ways in the tunnel before addressing her.  “Yes?”

“Ah…delivery from the Blood and Tea sir?”  She suddenly became uncertain, glancing back at her list.  The man cracked a smile and nodded in understanding.  “Ah yes, my tea!  Yes, yes.  I was expecting Embrose, or that buffoon guardsman she sends sometimes.”  He bent and scooped up one of the pony kegs as if it weighed nothing, nodding seriously at her.   “Thank you, young lady.  Be seeing more of you?”  Kyrah brightened a bit at that, smiling up at him.  “Embrose just hired me yesterday.  I’m Kyrah, it’s very nice to meet you sir.”

The man gave a small laugh and transferred the pony keg barrel under one arm as he reached out to clasp her hand with the other.  “Francis.  Lovely to meet you as well.”  With that, he closed the door and Kyrah started back in the direction she had come from.  Every few hundred paces she would pass a lightly sloped ramp that led up or down a level.  She noted with some relief that each ramp had a small sign posted on its wall with a short name and an indicator of which level it led to.  That, coupled with the signs above the doors she passed helped her shake the fear of becoming lost.  Her next two deliveries went much the same as the first, with polite greetings and mild surprise at her not being Embrose.  Her confidence rose as she followed the simple directions to the grocers on her list.

A young man opened the door to her bell this time, surprising her by immediately offering to take her cart and welcoming her inside.  Kyrah smiled and thanked him, striking the poor boy dumb for a moment as he struggled to find his next words.  “Ah…yes. Yes, you’re welcome!  And welcome to the Redistributorium.  Mouthful, I know. Sorry.”

Deciding to be bold, Kyrah extended a hand to the young man.  “Hello. I’m Kyrah from the Blood and Tea. Very pleased to meet you.”  The young man kept his decorum and took her hand in his, raising it to his lips and barely brushing the back of her knuckles.  “Edmond Rennald, at your service.”  Kyrah stood and blinked at him a few times, before looking back to her cart with a small smile.  Edmond jumped, starting to fill the cart with various items stacked on a small platform nearby.  “Sorry.  Pick up for Blood and Tea, right.”

Kyrah watched him as he worked, loading various pony kegs and crates onto the cart.  He had short cropped blond hair, and constantly wore a small smile as if he were about to share something amusing. She also noted his voice, deep edged but surprisingly smooth.  Kyrah decided she fancied him in that moment.  She averted her eyes as he finished loading her cart, to avoid being caught staring.

“Blood and Tea order filled, miss.  Would you mind going over the list with me?  I’ll need you to sign for everything, so the chore won’t be out of our way.”  He produced a sheet of thick paper from a back pocket, unfolding it.  He showed her which of the small crates held the pure grain sugar, which held the still sealed shipments of tea from various regions, and which pony keg held the fresh honey, as opposed to those storing fresh cream.  After he had finished, she smiled.  “I actually don’t know what the order was supposed to have; Embrose rushed me out into the Under-Road rather quickly this morning.”

Edmond scowled slightly, and then laughed, sharing her smile.  “Well, I’m glad you let me go through the entire thing anyway. Father does so approve of fastidious list care.”  Kyrah signed a scrawl on the bottom of his list and started to pull her cart out into the Under-Road again.   As he stepped up to close the door behind her, she turned, boldness setting into her again.  “I enjoyed hearing you speak, I suppose.  You have a nice voice.  I didn’t wish to interrupt.”

Edmonds jaw dropped slightly as he stared openly at her.  She flushed, gathering her courage.  “I’ll be working at the Blood and Tea regularly.  If you wished to call on me some time, I would enjoy that.”  Her courage spent, she gathered the handles of her cart and shoved it away.  She made it quite far down the tunnel in the wrong direction before she heard the door click closed behind her.

Upon her return to The Blood and Tea, she heard a great many voices above her and feet upon the floorboards.  Leaving the cart where it sat, she went up to the kitchen, taking an apron from the hook Embrose kept them on.  As she was tying it, Embrose hustled past and tutted briefly.  “Need not bother with that girl, you won’t be staying long.  Loiter there a moment, I’ll be right back with directions for you.”

Kyrah leaned against the counter and took in the room.  It was bustling with activity; people sat in every seat, with some standing at the door waiting for space to open up.  Men and women sat and sipped at steaming cups, chatting and laughing, making plans for their days, and generally enjoying the break in their morning routines.  She noticed the man from the day before, sitting alone in the same booth he had occupied previously.  He wore a small smile as he watched the crush of humanity in the room.  It seemed to flow around him, with people avoiding his gaze, but not showing any signs of fear or anger towards him.  Embrose returned, breaking Kyrah out of her reverie.

“Embrose, who is that man?”  She nodded her chin at him, confident Embrose would know who she meant.  Embrose turned to look, and then turned back to the counter, unloading a set of dirty teacups and napkins.  “That’s Nicolai.  One of my best customers, comes near every day.”

Kyrah nodded for a moment, before stopping to gape.  “You can’t mean…Necromancer Nic?”  Embrose gave her a sharp look, and then cast her gaze behind her to Nicolai before hustling Kyrah into the kitchen area.  “You’re new in town, so you don’t know much about this.  The man is a good customer, and a very civilized and polite person.  Whatever else he may be, he’s someone I call friend.  Never call him Necro Nic or any variation thereof, he hates it.  Calling him some tawdry rumor-monger name like that would be rude.”

Abashed, Kyrah nodded vigorously.  “Yes ma’am.  I apologize; it’s just what you said about rumors. I don’t know him the way you do.”  Embrose patted her shoulder.  “Don’t fret love, he’s not so frightening.  Not to such as us anyway.  Now, your next run.  I need you to get over to The Bizarre Garden.  It’s a good hour’s walk, so you need to get moving if you’re to make it back before lunch.  It’s on this level, just a good quarter of the city away.  Out on the main street, you head north.  You can’t miss the sign, or the shop.  You can carry the order in a shoulder bag the proprietor will provide; it won’t be too heavy for you.”

Embrose unlocked a drawer set into the cabinet nearby and drew out five tiny gold bars with detailed scrollwork across the top showing dwarves at work mining.  She stacked them neatly, two sitting atop three, before wrapping them in a scrap of clean cloth.  “Mind this, lass.  That’s payment in full, and no small amount, so hide it on your person somewhere.  Cutpurses won’t be exactly thriving this time of day, but it’s always possible, so keep it out of sight.”

She nodded and slid the Blocks into a clever pocket stitched into the bosom of her top.  Embrose nodded appreciatively, before bustling back to her work serving what seemed to be half the city their morning tea.  Kryah hurried to the door, adjusting her ribbon and her hair before making her way out into the morning crowds.

She enjoyed the walk, taking in the marvelous sights of the capital city as she went.  She passed many storefronts she wished she could visit, noting colorful clothing or shining weapons within window displays.  Many of the businesses boasted proudly painted signs above their doors, and several eateries had outdoor seating filled with the town’s wealthier folk.  The smell of freshly baked bread was pervasive; she felt she couldn’t escape it.  It served only to remind her that she had not eaten yet, and her mouth watered at the various platters and plates she passed by.  She kept a good pace though, and arrived at The Bizarre Garden within an hour.

The sign was overgrown with thick lush ivy, sprouting fern-like branches every way except those that would obscure the letters.  The building itself was a modest storefront, but promised a unique interior from the windows, over-grown with various flowers.  An odd looking long building ran alongside the storefront, covered in thick smoked glass that she could not see through.  It was tall as well; two stories high and nestled back into the wall.  The building had excellent exposure to the sunlight, and as Kyrah looked at it she realized the owner must have paid a premium for a plot of land in a city where sunlight was famed for being rare.

She pushed on the door, instantly feeling foolish as the solid dark wood rebounded from its latch inside.  After taking a moment, Kyrah brushed aside a swath of thick ferns, exposing a “by appointment only” sign.  Shrugging to herself, she gripped the brass knocker and rapped on the door a few times.  The latch clicked, and the door opened to reveal a tall blonde woman wearing only a white cloth eyepatch and a clean linen cloth wrapped around her waist and between her legs.

“Yes?”  Kyrah went red, unable to respond for a moment.  “Oh come in, I only have one appointment today anyway.  Blood and Tea, yeh?”  Kyrah hurried inside and closed the door behind her as the tall mostly nude woman applied a second clean strip of white linen across her breasts, tying it behind her back loosely. She casually tied her hair behind her head in a light braid as Kyrah looked around the bare bones shop.  The entrance was really just a shoddy lobby, with nothing but a beat up old wooden counter at the far end of the room and two heavy looking metal doors.

The blonde woman stepped around behind Kyrah and locked the door before turning to look at her.  After a moment, she extended a hand.  “Iona.  You are?”  Kyrah blushed.  “Ah, sorry.  My name is Kyrah…and yes, I’m from the Blood and Tea.  Embrose sent me to pick something up.”

Iona brushed past her, rummaging under the counter at the end of the room. She produced a plain brown jute shoulder bag, before turning and heaving open the door.  A wave of moist heat surged from behind it into the room, settling around Kyrah like a physical being.  She followed Iona through the door and was once again shocked by what she saw in the heart of the wondrous city she now called home.

The greenhouse was easily seven meters tall, with smoked glass panels making up the walls.  The floor was a dark loam, and wooden gangways were hung from the ceiling and walls by metal hooks and thick ropes.  The central gangway was wide enough to walk on comfortably, and had several smaller hanging plank catwalks connecting to it in various places.  Silvery pipes protruded from the wall beside where the Under-Road would be, and stretched across the greenhouse, ending in sprinklers or drip tips over various plots of soil.  Many of the plots were housed by different and strange looking plants and trees.  Some had thick silk netting hung from the ceiling separating them or covering their plot entirely.  The entire far side of the building was covered in a thick growth of vines that seemed to be slowly swaying at the ends.

Iona led her down the main gangway past various bushes and trees Kyrah couldn’t hope to identify on sight alone, stopping at a tiny grove of miniature trees.  They had squat trunks with bushy overgrowths and tiny yellow shapes growing throughout the leafy tops.  Each stood no higher than her knees.

“Are those…lemons?”  Kyrah asked, peering at one while kneeling to get a better look.  Each lemon was no bigger than her thumbnail, but looked right in every other aspect. Iona smiled, handing her the jute bag with a nod.

“The first row is ready now, but the row behind it won’t be ready to be picked for another two weeks.  I believe payment was to be delivered today.”  She said, standing expectantly beside Kyrah.  “Oh, right, sorry.  This place is amazing, and I forgot.”  Kyrah dug the wrapped up Blocks from the pocket in her bosom, and handed it over to Iona.

Iona gently took the package and unwrapped it, looking over the contents before walking back down the swaying gangway.  “Get started, I’ll be right back to help.”  Kyrah brushed sweat from her forehead, appreciating the scanty clothing of the gardens proprietor much more in the sweltering heat than she had at first glance.  She hesitantly began plucking tiny lemons from the trees before her, trying to be careful not to crush them as she went.  Within a few moments, the door to the greenhouse opened again, and Iona returned to help.  Working together, with the gardens owner working much quicker than she herself could, they had soon filled the jute bag with the undersized fruit.

Iona led Kyrah out and thanked her.  Kyrah immediately appreciated the cold of the day outside, and began to hurry back to the Blood and Tea.  Half the day was gone already by the time she arrived, and the morning crowd had thinned considerably.  Embrose chuckled in delight at the bag of tiny lemons, and began prepping them for the after lunch rush.  She instructed Kyrah in how to help her, and the women began slicing the lemons.  They cut a tiny wedge from each lemon, and Embrose made a cup of the specialty they were destined for so Kyrah could try it.

She placed the whole lemon on the lip of the cup, balancing it by using the wedge cut in its side.  Then she added a small crystal of sugar, before pouring the dark steaming tea into the cup.  She finished it by placing the sliced out wedge of the tiny lemon on top of the tea, to float as the sugar crystal dissolved in a small stream of bubbles at the bottom.  Before handing the cup to Kyrah, she squeezed the tiny lemon on the side.  

“This is sweet scale tea.  The leaves come from far to the east, near the Sleeping Jungle.  It’s a house specialty, and I charge appropriately.  One cup is two Piece, and people pay it happily.”  Kyrah almost choked at the price as she was sipping the thick dark drink.  It was rich and heady, with a wonderful blend of sweetness and biting herbal flavor, married nicely by the lemons sharp tang.

“Ohh, Embrose that is wonderful.”  Kyrah groaned as she drained her cup, and then popped what was left of the rock sugar into her mouth to crunch.  Embrose smiled in response, moving to clean up the counter they had been slicing lemons on.  “It does bring in the customers.”

A long cloth covered the preparation counter under the bar, and dozens of tea cups with tiny sliced lemons perched on their lips were sitting ready for the after lunch rush.  They had only prepared around a hundred cups, and Embrose explained that they would serve no more than that per day, in order to keep public interest up.  They had only used about a fourth of the tiny magically grown lemons in the bag Kyrah had brought back.

Their final morning customer lazily stood up to pay, and Embrose stopped him on his way past.  She slid his two Pence back across the counter and said, “You can keep your money if you do me a small favor?”  The man nodded, tilting his head questioningly to hear the request.  “Go three shops north on the main road here and tell em to send over lunch for two to the Blood and Tea?  It’s the Weeping Guardsman you need.”  The man eagerly agreed and tipped his hat on the way out.  Embrose locked the door behind him and placed two signs in the window next to the front door.  The first read “Closed for lunch” and the second read “Sweet Scale Tea; limited time only.”

Kyrah busied herself with cleaning the tables, but was soon interrupted by a polite light knock at their door.  Embrose bustled over and swept the door open, revealing a young man in a suit with a stiff collar holding a basket.  “Lunch for two, Blood and Tea.”  He spoke stiffly, as if reciting lines in a play he was not happy to be starring in.  Embrose smiled and gestured for him to come in.  The young man began setting up his basket at the nearest table.  “Today’s lunch is rabbit and cider stew, a specialty of the Weeping Guardsman.  The rabbits were snared freshly this morning, before dawn.”  He set out two square brown plates with raised edges, and then used a large ladle to portion out steaming stew from a very small pot set into the side of the basket.  He flourished a thick cloth napkin at each place setting, and then carefully arranged spotless silverware atop them.

“To accompany, the chef has decided to send a bottle of the yellow apple cider used to make the stew.  It should complement the dish perfectly.”  The young man draped a cloth across one arm, and then propped up the bottle to show Embrose for her approval.  She wore a small smile as she pretended to scour the label, and then gave him a short nod.  He produced two drinking flutes and poured a careful measure into each.  Setting the bottle down in the middle of the table, the young man gave a stiff bow and closed up his basket.  “Your fee is of course waived, in honor of the business arrangements you have with my master.  We very much appreciate your patronage and I personally hope your lunch is wonderful.  Thank you, Miss Masters, and have a happy afternoon.”

He closed the door behind himself, and Embrose relocked it after him.  She pointed at the table, looking at Kyrah.  “That man is a ponce, no doubt. But he makes amazing food, and never charges me in the hopes I will endorse his pitch for the Masters surname.  Please feel free, eat up.”  Kyrah sat and began eating with appetite.  The stew was robust, with a savory sweet smell emanating from it and she hadn’t eaten anything all day.  Thick seared chunks of rabbit accompanied carrots, shallots, and minced bits of bacon.  She felt she had never eaten anything as fine, and finished her plate rapidly.  Embrose quietly ate her portion, smiling as she watched Kyrah.  They engaged in little snippets of small talk as they ate, and then continued out on the patio with a cigarette each from Embroses pouch.

The women talked and laughed as if there wasn’t a line forming around the building, ignoring the frosty looks of their cold waiting patrons.  Once back inside, Kyrah cleared the table, setting the dishes aside to be returned later.  Embrose tossed her an apron as she walked past, before unlocking the door and welcoming in the first customers of the afternoon rush.  People poured in, grabbing seats quickly and looking to Kyrah and Embrose expectantly.

The next hour passed quickly, with a brisk trade causing both women to bustle around the shop without rest.  Sir Loothem and his partner in the Keepers Sir Versi came in, unnoticed and took up a place at the bar.  Where Sir Loothem was shaggy and unkempt, Sir Versi looked as if he had just come from the barber.  His hair was cut short and parted cleanly to one side, with his mustache neatly trimmed and perfectly symmetrical.  His uniform was freshly pressed and starched, the navy blue of his coat bold and dark

Embrose noticed Kyrah taking their order and shooed her away, preferring to torment her man by being saucy and flirtatious in front of his partner.  The shop was alive with conversation and laughs, the smell of fresh tea and the clink of currency interrupted only by an icy breeze anytime the door opened.

On one such occasion, Kyrah turned to welcome the new customers in and promptly dropped her tray, spilling tea and shattering cups.  Three men had entered, wearing matching buckled hats and long leather coats.  They each had matching tattoos on their hands, rather crudely drawn stiletto daggers reaching down their fingers.  The lead man swept off his hat and scanned the room, searching for a table.  He wore a patchy balbo style beard, accompanied by a smug expression.  The second man simply loomed, hat in hands.  His face was blank, clean shaved, and filled with passive malice.  He was slightly taller, and much broader of shoulder, with a clean shaven head.  The third man took his hat off and swept a hand through his hair, plastering it to the top and back of his head.  He wore it shaved on the sides and slick with grease on the top.

A table in the center of the room opened up and they quickly claimed it, in spite of others waiting.  Kyrah busied herself cleaning up the mess she had made, glancing at the men every few seconds.  Her hands shook slightly as she bustled into the kitchen.  Embrose gave her a look, before peering past her into the main room.  “Ugh, those bastards again.  Everyday lately, it seems.”

Sir Loothem casually glanced over his shoulder, and then looked up at Sir Versi with a raised eyebrow.  Kyrah steadied herself and forced a smile.  “They regulars?”

Embrose sighed, returning to her stove and kettles.  “I’m guessing they are now, though I’m not well pleased by it.”  Kyrah emptied her tray into a nearby waste basket, grateful it had been from a table that had finished.  “Why’s that?”

Sir Loothem spoke up then, keeping his voice low.  “Thugs.  Those three are the ‘Dirk Tips’ gang, newly formed.  That one with the horrid beard is Rennie, leads em.  Lower Lightsfail cutpurses looking to upgrade themselves to cut-throats.  I’ve got my eye on em, but haven’t found em out on anything just yet.  Can only be one ending to their story though.  Seen it a hundred times.”

Kyrah glanced over at their table, just as the one with the slicked hair shouted for service.  She took her pad of paper out of her pocket and leaned in towards Sir Loothem.  “Back me up in case they get rowdy?”  She smirked as he looked at her, surprised, before offering a chuckle.  “Sure thing lass, though I haven’t got my ties on me.”

Sir Versi looked over, his face calm and serious.  “I have mine.”  Sir Loothem laughed again, and the air became easier.  Kyrah took a breath to steady herself and adjusted her ribbon before walking to their table.  “Fine day gents. What’ll it be?”  

Rennie spoke without bothering to look at her.  “Pot of the special love, sharpish.”  The man with the shaved head stared at her, his eyes narrowing.  She noticed the sparkle of a gold ring from one of his ears, forcing herself to meet his gaze and smile.  “I’m sorry sir, the special is only served in cups…and its two Piece per cup, is that alright?”

Rennie slowly turned and looked up at her.  “Listen here girl.  A man like me doesn’t flinch at price, you follow?”  The man with the shaved head continued to stare at her, while the man with slicked hair cringed.  “Two parts each though Rennie. That’s closer to a Block than further away, maybe we should order sommat else….”  He trailed off as Rennie fixed him with a cold glare.  He spoke quietly and calmly.  “Shut your gob Don, I’s got the mind for money and I says it’s a trifle and nothing more.  Savvy?”

Don ran his hand over his hair again, looking down.  “Yes Rennie, I get you.”  Kyrah faked her best smile.  “Three cups of Sweet Scale, coming right up sirs.  Back in a tick.”  She entered the kitchen with wide eyes, beginning the work of gathering the cups and kettle onto a tray.  She breathed out her nerves, and then brought her smile back up and hustled back out to their table.  She presented each with a cup, and then poured out the tea and lightly placed their tiny wedges of lemon to float on top amidst the bubbles from the rock sugar.

The man with the shaved head stared at her the entire time she was at the table, causing her to nearly spill the absurdly expensive tea when she met his eyes.  As she returned the kettle to the kitchen for Embrose to refill, she noticed him lean over and whisper to Rennie while keeping his eyes locked on her.

Rennie laughed and shoved him away, raising his cup in a toast of some sort or other.  Kyrah quickly busied herself serving the other tables and clearing them as guests came and went.  She was mindful of the Dirk Tips though, casting her eyes at them in the hopes they would have left.  They stayed and talked, laughing too loudly for a tea shop, making other guests cast uncomfortable glances in their direction.  Rennie and Don did all the talking and laughing, while the man with the shaved head and earing simply stared at the other people, meeting their gazes with his deadpan expression.  The situation came to a sudden head when Sirs Versi and Loothem rose to take their leave.

Don noticed for the first time that Sir Versi was wearing the coat of the city watch, and sneered.  “Bleeding guardsmen.  Not fit to lick the shite off my boots they is.” Rennie began a laugh that died in his throat as he turned and saw the faces of the men Don had just insulted.  Rennie became gravely quiet as Sir Versi stepped over to their table and rested his hand on his sword hilt.  He stood still and tall for a quiet moment, staring directly at Rennie until the seated man averted his gaze.

He turned and spoke in a quiet voice with authority, which boomed throughout the suddenly silent tea shop.  “Would you repeat yourself please Sir?”  Don opened his mouth, before the man with the shaved head clamped a hand over it and dragged him into an uncomfortable seated headlock.  Embrose leaned over the bar and shouted, suddenly vicious with anger.  “NO BLOODSHED IN MY SHOP, DAMN YOU!”

Kyrah stood against a nearby wall, shaking suddenly.  Sir Loothem raised a hand and gave Embrose a grave look, shaking his head with sadness in his eyes.  He blinked at her withering glare a few times, before moving to stand alongside and slightly behind his partner.

Rennie quickly stood and swept a nervous looking bow.  “Forgive him please sir, he was born blue.  Doesn’t know what he says half the time, and the other half it makes his mum weep.  We’s just brought him up for a bit of culture, with the fools hope it could cure him.  He says he watched a guardsman kick a dog once when he was just a child, turned him against em for life.  Poor lad, he loves dogs.  That’s part of the problem with his mind see, it sticks things that aint exactly true and turns him sour.”

Rennies eyes went to Sir Versi’s hand, still resting lightly on his sword hilt.  “There’s surely no need for retributions against a simpleton who’s offered insult, yeah?”  Don sat, suddenly very still, as the man holding him began to lightly stroke his hair and make slight shushing noises into his ear.

Sir Versi moved his hand off the hilt of his sword and turned to leave.  “Keep him in order around gentlefolk, or it’s a night in the cells for each of you.  Simple or not.”  He turned on his heel and left.  Sir Loothem turned to Embrose and the apology on his face was apparent.  She nodded slightly at him and he too left the shop.

Slowly, the bustle of the afternoon returned.  Kyrah exchanged looks with Embrose and went back to her work around the tables.  She overheard snippets of the Dirk Tips conversation as she did.  Rennie’s mood had darkened and Don was fuming as much as he felt he could get away with.

“I coulda taken em, they’s just puff guardsmen.  You didn’t have to humiliate me like that boss, I’s just sayin.”  Rennie reached over and knocked on his underling’s forehead, causing Don to pull away.  “That weren’t no guardsmen you great swingin’ tit.  That were two Keepers of Lightsfail, Sirs Versi and Loothem.  You hear the ‘Sirs’ before their names? Lords of the city, both of em.  Either of em coulda killed you a hundred times without even getting winded, and received only applause for it.  Saved your life is what I just did.”

He took a sip of his tea with a grimace before continuing his tirade.  “That one you mucked off, that was Sir Versi.  You don’t never want to see his sword come out; I tell you that for free mate.”  Don sullenly stirred his tea, keeping his eyes down on the table.  “But that stuff you said about me mum, she don’t weep when I talk.”

The man with the shaved head drained his cup and popped the tiny lemon into his mouth, chewing for a moment before speaking.  His voice was soft and light, with a touch of accent Kyrah recognized from Queenfisher, the sister city to her home Kingfisher.  “She would have wept over her dead son had Rennie not mocked you so.  Your only way out of that insult was to subvert your blame with idiocy, and Rennie was sharp enough and fast enough to get there and keep you in your bones.  You should be thanking him, not whinging.”

He had returned to his silence and staring by the time Kyrah returned to clear up their cups and settle their tab.  Rennie tossed a Block onto the tabletop and grunted as he stood.  “Keep it love, and keep us a table.  We’ll be back tomorrow, sure as the dawn.”   As they were leaving, Rennie said something she couldn’t hear and Don laughed, again in better spirits.  The man with the shaved head held the door for them, and tipped his hat to Embrose as he left.

The rest of the day passed without event, though Kyrah served many interesting customers.  She was happily exhausted by the time she and Embrose began cleaning the shop in preparation for closing down.  So she was rather surprised when she turned to the sound of the doors bell and Edmond Rennald stood before her, a small smile on his face.  Kyrah instantly blushed deeply and froze in the middle of clearing a table.  Edmond turned to Embrose.  “Hello Miss Masters.  Business doing well, I hope?”

Embrose turned from her cleaning in the kitchen and raised an eyebrow.  “Why yes it is, young Edmond, thanks very much for inquiring.  Whatever brings you to my door?”  Edmond adjusted his sleeve, glancing over at Kyrah, who was still frozen in position.  “I actually came to call on Kyrah.  With your permission, of course.”  Embrose turned her raised eyebrow to Kyrah, before bursting out in laughter.

“I believe you have the poor girl stunned. Go on lass, I’ll finish up.  You did well today, I hope you’ll return in the morning?”

Kyrah snapped out of her trance and nodded vigorously.  “Oh yes.  I like working here very much.”  She began taking her apron off before pausing.  “…are you sure? I can stay and help finish.”  Embrose shook her head without turning.  “Naw, begone with you.  Make this young man buy you a nice dinner, he can surely afford to.”  Kyrah thanked her and happily left the shop with Edmond after they made their polite goodbyes.

Once outside, Edmond looked around and grimaced.  “I actually thought I’d ask if you wanted to go for a walk with me, but now I realize that you’ve likely been on your feet all day.”  Kyrah smiled, not interrupting as the young man went on.  “And I just now realized that Embrose had you running her morning errands as well, so you’re likely wanting to just relax somewhere…”  She stepped forward and took his arm in her hands.  “A walk sounds lovely.”

Edmond had dressed simply, a leather doublet over a plain white shirt with dark leather pants.  Kyrah was grateful, as she felt painfully aware of her own modest clothing in the wealthy part of the city.  They walked and chatted lightly, both filled with nervous excitement.  Kyrah deflected speaking of herself by asking Edmond about his life, and it worked neatly.  The young man was too nervous not to babble about a subject when asked.  After a couple of hours, they found themselves in a large park near the underside of a bridge.  He had intended to show her a famed tavern that hosted real bardic music on occasion, but they had gotten distracted by the beautiful nature of the strange park.

Its shape was long and narrow, as it ran alongside the main road of the uppermost level of Lightsfail.  The park housed a garden of tall trees that spanned either side of its path, and culminated in a loop surrounding a massive boulder towering high overhead.   The trees had all shed their leaves already, giving the pathway a mildly creepy feel with skeletal branches reaching over the path to form a canopy.  Edmond described the trees in their vibrant greens with differing leaves during the summer months and promised to bring her back during the spring to see the blossoms during the bloom festival.  Kyrah put on a smile and nodded.

The boulder was a spectacle worthy of note.  It stood massive, at least ten meters over Kyrahs head.  As she gazed up at it, she noticed a clutch of scratched names and symbols in the stone.  Edmond explained that it was a lovers meeting point, and that local tradition stated the higher up one etched the symbol of ones love (whatever it may be), the more honest one was about it and the truer the love was.  Unsurprisingly, the stone face was clean at shoulder level and below.

After they walked the pathway around the stone and disturbed a young couple necking behind it, they returned to the street, laughing together comfortably.  Kyrah hesitantly mentioned being hungry and Edmond immediately took to the task of finding them a place to have dinner.  Fortune intervened, as a wandering delicacies vendor was setting up shop at the entrance of the park as they made their way out.  The man had streaks of grey hair along his temples and an abundance of small silver rings dangling from each earlobe.

They were just exiting the park as he pulled his coach and horse up to the entrance and began the work of unfolding his small mobile shop.  He unlatched the side of his coach, catching it as it fell open.  The side folded out of the coach into a small bar with three stools that stood on thin metal legs that snapped open into place.  The vendor then unfolded a small carpeted ramp to allow people to step up onto his coaches seating area.

Edmond stepped up, before turning to offer a hand to Kyrah.  She took his hand, unable to avoid noticing how smooth and warm it felt in her own as she stepped up behind him.  They sat at the stools and began listening to the vendor’s litany as he listed all the delectable things he had on offer while he rapidly sharpened a cooking knife.  They decided on a pheasant and mushroom dish with a dessert to follow.  As the man built their order and roasted it over his long thin grill, they chatted more and drank dark thick winter ale served in short wooden cups with sprigs of dill and sticks of cinnamon.  Their food was ready and served dripping with buttery sauce on small wooden plates in an amazing amount of time, and the man was already taking orders from people lining up behind them.  Their dinner came on two sticks of sharpened wood each, with pheasant hearts and pieces of breast meat skewered as the thin stemmed mushrooms were woven between them as if they were a trellis.

While they finished their quick but satisfying meal, the vendor turned and presented them with another dish he had whipped up while they ate.  He handed each of them two more sticks, this time supporting a thin pancake wrapped around wedges of blood orange.  Each was coated in a light drizzle of thick white cream syrup.  Edmond thanked him profusely and paid for the lot, shaking the burly man’s hand before stepping down and leading Kyrah away.  They found themselves back inside the garden, heading towards the Lovers Stone and the series of benches that surrounded it.  Edmond promised her music, and she smiled innocently as she followed him.

The lamp lighters made their rounds, as Kyrah and Edmond sat closely, listening to the sounds of music filtering over the wall from the bridge behind it.  Kyrah wondered as to the source of the music and wondered at herself as she scooted in to lean against Edmond while she listened to it.  He stopped talking at once and simply sat, lightly holding her as the music swelled and faded between songs.  About an hour after dark, Edmond still sat holding both Kyrah, and the long cold sticks from their desert pancakes.  Kyrah lifted her head and smiled at him, and then gently asked him to walk her home.

As they approached The Gentleman’s Collar, Edmond whistled appreciatively.  “This place has a large waiting list, how’d you get boarding here?”  Kyrah shrugged.  “Embrose.”  Edmond nodded in understanding, hands tucked into his pockets.

“Well, ah….thank you for coming out with me.  I had a lot of fun.”  Edmond was nervously keeping his distance as he spoke.  In a moment of what she decided was insanity, Kyrah crossed the two steps separating them and reached up to kiss him.  He warmed to the idea quickly, his arms circling her back and pressing her lightly to him.  She sighed as they parted, and then leaned her head against his shoulder for a few moments.  They stood and said nothing for the duration, ignoring the passersby and occasional hoot cast in their direction.

Then the moment was over and Kyrah felt as though she awoke from a spell.  She kissed him once more, lightly this time, before stepping away.  “Thank you for calling on me.  I do hope to see you again…soon.”  Edmond stood in a daze as she stepped up to the door.  As it was closing behind her, she heard him say a bit too loudly:  “As sure as the dawn.”

Kyrah couldn’t remember bathing or getting into bed, much less setting that alarm contraption, but she awoke to its violent clanging nonetheless.  She fairly floated into The Blood and Tea, causing Embrose to burst out in laughter.  “Had a good night then, eh?”  Kyrah blushed instantly, before smiling through it and nodding.

Embrose lead her downstairs, to begin her morning deliveries.  “He looks like an easy lad to fall for.  I’m not gonna warn you away from it, just know you can talk to me about it if you please.”  Taking her list and cart, Kyrah nodded eagerly with a smile, before heading off down the Under Road at a brisk walk.  She heard Embrose laugh again as the door clicked shut.

Rushing through her deliveries, she was close to out of breath by the time she rang the bell to the door of the Redistributarium.  The door opened almost instantly, and Edmonds smile mirrored her own.  They spent far longer flirting and sharing kisses than they did poring over the list and making sure the delivery was correct.  By the time Kyrah returned to the shop, her lips were mildly chafed and she felt almost drunk from the whirl of exciting emotions.  She quickly fell into step beside Embrose dealing with the morning crowd, before the women closed the shop and ordered lunch again.  This time, the waiter delivered two plates of venison croquette sandwiches on dark brown bread topped with sweet onions, fresh greens, and slathered in a spiced plum sauce.

While cleaning up their lunch after a cigarette, Kyrah nearly jumped out of her skin while noticing Nicolai sitting at his favored booth, reading from a small leather bound book.  “By the Influentials, you startled me sir!  Where did you come from?”

Nicolai carefully placed a slender shaft of black wood into his book, before folding it closed and setting it down on the table in front of him.  “Implements of Woe, four doors southeast.”  Kyrah raised an eyebrow.  “You named your shop rather darkly, if I may be so bold.”

He said nothing, only stared at her with a kind expression on his face.  Kyrah raised her eyebrows at him and left his table, returning with a cup of the special.  He thanked her politely but did not look up from his book.  They opened the shop and welcomed the return of customers, consumed by the press of pleasant work to be done, and the near constant clink of cups and saucers.  The Dirk Tips made another appearance, but were much more subdued and polite.

Later that night, the women sat outside enjoying a cigarette when Edmond approached.  He wore an instrument case across his back, and asked Kyrah if she would like to spend some time with him.  She enthusiastically agreed and bid Embrose a good night before happily leaning against Edmond and walking down the street with her arm through his.  They talked, laughed, ate, drank, and kissed together again and Kyrah went to sleep happy and exhausted.  Soon the passing days began to blend into one another, with daylight hours spent happily at the tea shop and evenings spent with Edmond.

She began to learn more about him, as he opened up to her further each day.  She learned of his dreams, his studies, and his preferences.  He played music for her regularly, and she adored it each time.  She would applaud him and they would inevitably fall to kissing and leaning against one another in the chill of the early winter evenings.

Edmond was naturally gifted where it came to music.  He confided in her that he intended to become a full-fledged Bard in time, once he could settle on an Influential’s path to guide him.  Kyrah pretended to know nothing about bards, so she could listen to him tell her all their mysteries and secrets.  The real difference between a traveling musician and a true Bard was the use of wild magic.  Bards could access and control magic without the Influentials direct approval or dispensation, even creating magical items without the use of an Influential’s Font.  Or so Edmond claimed, excitement obvious in his eyes.

She would let him ramble about bards and music and wild magic as long as he liked, she just enjoyed listening to the sound of his voice, and being in close proximity to him.  She touched him as often as she could, leaning in his arms whenever they were not holding an instrument. He played several, and most of them well.

Soon, Edmond discovered that she never ate before rushing to work, and would have something fresh from the bakery next door waiting for her when she arrived for her delivery.  It became part of their morning routine to eat a hurried breakfast of scones, muffins, or even just thick slices of buttered toast.

During that first week at the Blood and Tea, Embrose and Kyrah grew quite close.  Embrose enjoyed having someone to gossip and laugh with, and both of them agreed it made the work day fly by rather pleasantly.  They enjoyed lunch together every day, and a cigarette each afterwards.  Edmond became very good with his timing, approaching most evenings when they were out having their second smoke together after closing shop.  Kyrah would quickly sip some mint tea and off they would go, to explore some part of the city or other.  Embrose commented often in those first days how much she liked Edmond, and how good a man she knew him to be.  So it was not a huge surprise to her when Kyrah broke the silence of a dull afternoon with a simple statement to her friend.  “I believe I’m going to take that man to bed.”  

Embrose raised a wrist to her forehead and feigned distress.  “Girl you mustn’t shock me like that.  I’m a delicate creature, you know.”   Kyrah went back to wiping down a table with a snort.  “I just mean that I know how I feel about him.  I’m fair certain he feels the same about me.”  Embrose nodded emphatically at that.

“Are you aware of what I was before I opened this place?”  Embrose spoke while leaning comfortably against a counter.  Kyrah stopped what she was doing and looked over, a quizzical expression on her face.  “I was a Paramour.  One of the very best too.  Well known, sought after by lords and kings.  Hell, I could have probably gotten my Masters surname in that profession had I wanted such a thing.”  Kyrah looked confused.  “Is a Paramour….?”

Embrose looked at her seriously.  “A whore, yes.  To be fair, a Paramour is a whore the way Sir Loothem is a simple guardsman, but the structure of the professions are remarkably similar.”  Silence filled the room for a moment, while Kyrah went back to her work.  “I didn’t mean to scare you girl, I just wanted to let you know I might be the wrong woman to talk you out of sleeping with that young man of yours.  In fact, I highly recommend it.  Sex is one of the nicer things in this world.  I wish more people would partake regularly, the world would be a better place.”

Kyrah cracked a smile at that.  “So you….what?  Serviced noblemen and the like?”  Her employer and friend nodded.  “Ay, some of them were noble.  Some were not.  I started off at a high end brothel, was well looked after.  My life could have gone a much worse road, I know.  But I received Paramour training, learned all my graces and high society ways.  After that, I chose my own clients.  Had a proper waiting list and everything.  I dare say I broke more than a few hearts when I left it behind for the tea shop.  It was no bad life, and I admit I enjoyed it more than most might.  It just wasn’t honest.  What I have with Loothem, that’s honest.”  She pierced Kyrah with her most serious look.  “What you have with Edmond, that’s honest too.”  Kyrah nodded, her brow furrowed in thought.

When he called on her that night, she felt increasingly confident, and the feeling kept growing as she walked with him.  Throughout dinner, then the music show in the courtyard of a nearby manor they attended, confidence in her choice grew.  As he always did, Edmond walked her to The Gentleman’s Collar and kissed her goodnight.  Afterwards, she turned to go into the boarding house and he stood in the road watching her.  She opened the door, heart in her throat, and turned back to face him.  Kyrah extended her hand to him, her eyes shaded by the sign above the door.  It took him a moment to understand, but he proved highly willing and enthusiastic towards the idea once it dawned on him what she intended.

After, they lay together in her bed.  She was nude aside from the ribbon at her throat, but felt no discomfort.  She luxuriated partially across his chest, listening to him talk again.  He proved nervous after the act, and talking seemed to be his escape from nerves.

“Of course, it’s said that one cannot actually become a Bard until one has experienced the truest form of either love, adventure, or tragedy.  It’s supposed to be part of what unlocks the mind towards wild magic, those extremes of emotion.”  Kyrahs heart caught in her throat again and she lifted herself off the bed to look in his eyes.  He lay still, meeting her gaze while a small smile formed on his lips.  She looked away, in an attempt to gather herself before looking back into his eyes.  “Edmond…I think…I think perhaps I can be one of those for you.”  He smiled wider and embraced her, whispering into her ear; “I love you too, Kyrah.”  She burst into tears, her grip on him tightening, and he returned the embrace.

Within days, she noticed his hands went to the ribbon at her neck too often.  She dissuaded him and distracted him without words as often as she could, but one night it became too much for her.  The anxiety she felt outweighed her desires and she stopped her attentions and sat very still on the bed away from him for a few minutes, looking towards the window.

He lightly touched her back, an apologetic gesture.  “Can you blame me for being curious?”  She sighed and returned to his embrace.  “No, I don’t fault you for that.  But it’s MY ribbon; you can get your own.”  Her young man laughed, his hands carefully avoiding her neck.

She sighed again, against his chest this time.  “I’ll tell you sometime, I promise.  Can that be enough?”  His hands gripped her again, and she smiled in spite of herself as his pleasing voice whispered in her ear.  “Almost enough…”

More time passed, pleasantly now.  She no longer wept herself to sleep each night, and took great comfort in her relationships.  She grew closer with Embrose, as their friendship grew rapidly.  She found it so easy to talk to the woman who employed her, a freedom she realized she never had growing up in Kingfisher.  She shared personal things she never imagined she would, including her sexual exploits with her young man.  Embrose laughed along with her and offered advice.

Kyrah continued to grow closer to Edmond too, spending almost every night with him in her bed.  She had dinner with his father as well, at the man’s urgent insistence.  Edmonds father was a distant man with a stern voice.  He spoke fondly of his son’s music however, and it was clear that he supported his boy at least somewhat.  She learned more about this older brother of his as well.  Eventually Edmond admitted that he had fallen out with his father and they rarely spoke any longer.  He still came around from time to time, but things were not the same.  He spoke fondly of many childhood memories with his brother, events that came to shape who he was as a man.  Edmond would not speak of him long, however, and Kyrah quickly learned not to push the subject.  She preferred her young man happy and full of songs.

At the Blood and Tea, she rather quickly became accustomed to serving tea to people from all walks of life.  She smiled at the Dirk Tips, who still came regularly, and no longer feared the legendary Keepers.  She still shied away from the infamous necromancer, Nicolai, after an unsettling interaction.  She had lingered at his table after delivering his tea and attempted to strike up a conversation.  It went poorly.

“Nicolai?”  He looked up from his book, his hands automatically placing a thin strip of marbled black wood between the pages as he closed it.  “If you wouldn’t mind, I had some questions…”  The man’s face was unreadable, his expression perfectly neutral.

“I am certain that you do, young lady.  However, I am uncertain that you would want to hear the answers to them, and I am more than certain you would not enjoy the questions that I would have for you in exchange.  Questions about the ribbon you wear at your throat, the darkness of your hair, or the faint aroma of…ashes and iron you seem to always carry.”  Kyrah paled visibly, taking a shaky step backwards.  He continued; “So instead of asking one another questions, I recommend we exist comfortably aside each other in peaceful silence.  Agreed?”  She nodded and fled the table as quickly as she felt she could without raising suspicions.

Embrose noticed, of course.  She always noticed.  “Nicolai frighten you off?”  Kyrah nodded slightly, abashed.  “He does that.  To all of us.  He spoke to Loothem at some length not long ago.  Shook the man to his bones, and he isn’t one to startle easily.  Don’t mind him, he’s a solitary creature.  Says mean scary things so people leave him alone, that’s all.”  Still, Kyrah avoided the man from then on.

Winter came on in full, as the weeks slid by.  Kyrah accepted Embroses old coat, more to avoid the constant comments about the cold.  Kyrah had always loved the winter, but it was so different in her new city.  The snow never covered anything for long; it was always shoveled away by large carts.  It looked to her almost like a field being plowed the first time she saw it out of her window.  Constant smoke from chimneys mixed with the snow and made a nasty dirty slush instead of the pristine white powder she knew from home.  Kingfisher had been much larger in size than Lightsfail, but it was also much more spread out, sprawling across the coast and neighboring hills.

Tomlin, her landlord, came calling for the rent and was satisfied that she paid him in full.  He did manage to bark out half a lecture on the appropriateness of her gentleman caller before she brushed him aside, claiming the need to go to work and promising to be more discreet.  She arranged her comings and goings to avoid the man whenever possible.

As the weather changed to deep winter, Kyrah noticed a sharp decline in her young man’s mood.  When she asked about it, he explained that the instrument he had intended on using during his bardic proving would not work in the dead of winter.  It was an Ithir, a Dwarven lute with only two strings.  The neck of the lute was long, and it was played by a combination of a bow being drawn across the strings and the fingers of the player plucking at them from different heights along the neck.  However, the hairs used to make the strings in both the Ithir and the bow for it were highly delicate, and would become brittle in the cold.

So Kyrah presented him with a gift the next day; a small flask of reddish orange fluid with a tiny waxed cloth and eyedropper style top that could not be removed.  The flask was made from a translucent air bladder taken from a species of cave fish.  She explained that it was Warming Fluid, an alchemical potion.  She showed him how to apply it, allowing two small drops to fall onto the cloth before she rubbed it together and then applied it to the strings of his instrument.  When he tried playing, the strings were supple and firm, and the music it produced was beautiful.  She had never seen him smile so wide.  Kyrah warned him to be careful with the fluid, as it produced a lasting heat when it made contact with the air, based on how much of the fluid was present.  She instructed him never to allow the stopper to draw air inside, and showed him by closing it carefully with its stopper.

A few days later, Edmond surprised her by asking if she would attend reflection with him at the local temple.  Kyrah had never bothered with the various religions of the land, each focused around an Influential, and they had never discussed it, so she agreed tentatively.  After she finished work at the tea shop, she dressed plainly in one of the new outfits Edmond had gifted her.  She wore a pair of fitted black leather pants with a snug dark grey blouse, finished with the warm coat Embrose had given her, as well as the customary ribbon at her throat.  Once dressed and ready, she sat on the bench outside her boarding house to await Edmond.

He had a nervous look about him as he approached, and she asked if he was alright after giving him a light kiss.  “I have not been to reflection for almost three years.  Not since my brother….left.  We used to go together, and it just became strange for me.”  Kyrah kissed him again, and gave him her best smile, which he could not help but return as they began to walk down the streets.  He led her on a convoluted path through backroads and down several levels to a much less refined section of the city.

The streets became less organized and more crowded, as the people became more shoddily dressed.  The signs in front of businesses grew tawdrier and less painted as they went, until he directed her down a back alley that reeked of sour alcohol and garbage.  As they exited the alley, she discovered a small haven in the form of a closed in garden.  All around her, the stone and brick buildings pressed upwards, but there in the middle of them was a small patch of plain earth.  A single gnarled tree and what looked like withered tomato vines stood on either side of a small temple with a plain stone door.

Edmond approached and pushed the door open; revealing a dark interior with a set of simple stone benches facing what looked like a granite pulpit.  The entire room was tiny, with room to seat maybe fifteen people.  A single tall brazier stood in the center of the rounded room, but it was not lit and seemed to have gained more than its share of cobwebs.  Kyrah crossed her arms as she stood at the outskirts of the soil patch.  Her expression became more concerned as she saw Edmonds shoulders slump.

They sat on a bench just inside the door, with Kyrah becoming more alarmed the longer Edmond went without speaking.  Finally, just as she was turning to say something to him, a satisfied groan sounded from outside.  They both rose and moved outside to check the sound, finding a man wearing a shoddy brown robe leaning against the wall of the temple, a stream of urine splashing to the ground in front of him.

Edmond barked a curse, grabbing the man by the neck of his robe.  The man was balding, with slightly yellowed skin and deeply bloodshot eyes swimming with confusion.  He continued to urinate, causing Edmond to curse again and release him, taking a step back.  Then recognition came upon him and he squinted.  “Cleric Jacoby?”

Cleric Jacoby quickly turned away for a moment to adjust himself.  “Aye, that be me.  One moment.”  The man turned back, rubbing at his eyes.  “What do ye want?”  Edmond sighed, turning to leave, his disappointment obvious.

Kyrah placed a hand on his arm, smiling slightly at him before turning to the disheveled cleric.  “We came for evening reflection.  Is it still available?”  Jacoby was visibly stunned, his forehead knotting up in confusion.  “Reflection?  Are you sure?  Nobody comes to reflection anymore, least ways not here.”

When Edmond spoke, his voice was wreathed in a sadness that Kyrah immediately hated.  “I grew up coming here.  My father, brother, and I would come every Mourning day.”  Jacoby grimaced, a hand going to his side.  “Fitting then, you coming back now, at the end of it all.  Come in, take a seat.”  Edmond and Kyrah sat back at their bench, as Jacoby stumbled to the pulpit and leaned heavily against it.  Kyrah gripped Edmonds hand as the cleric began a short sermon.

“The Influential of soil, stone, and steel….is dead.  His dragon has become an engine of murderous destruction, and his elementals stalk the earth in madness, wreaking death and despair wherever they go.”  He began a deep cough, regaining his composure after a moment.  “What was once the solid bedrock of our world has become a shifting mire of hatred and blood.  How can we survive a world like this?”  Jacoby stared at them for a moment, reeling from what Kyrah could smell as rotgut even from her removed bench.

“Remembrance is the answer.  Remembrance of what came before, of what WAS before.  Before the death and destruction was a period of solid stability.  The bedrock of our faith was never about the power that governed it; it was about the stone itself…and what we could learn from it.  The stone does not flinch if lightning flashes, or fire rains from the sky.  The stone is unwavering and resolute.  So too must we be.  Three hundred years ago, did we worship a dragon?  Or piles of rock that could move?  We did not.  We did not even worship a deity.  What we worshiped was a way of being, and like the stone beneath our feet, nothing about that has changed.  Reflect on these words, while I go fall over.”

He left the pulpit and stumbled to a small room in the back while Edmond looked down at the ground.  Within moments, loud snoring could be heard.  Kyrah sat silent beside her young man, holding his hand and not saying anything.  As she watched, tears began to slowly course down Edmonds face.

She tightened her grip on his hand, unsure of what else to do.  Within a few moments, he seemed to steady himself.  “I grew up with this as my religion.  What he spoke of, the steadfastness of stone…I can hardly remember a time when I had something solid in my life.  My father cares for nothing but the shop, and lamenting his poor luck.  I miss my brother so much…” there he broke into tears again, leaning against Kyrahs chest and weeping.  “I killed my own mother in birth…”  She simply held him, fighting back tears of her own.  When he raised his head again, he wiped his nose with a handkerchief as she smiled at him.

“I could use a drink, my love.”  She spoke simply, a pleading look on her face.  Edmond seemed to snap out of his reverie.  “Yes, let’s get out of this place.  This religion isn’t me anymore, I’m sorry.  I just had to see the place one more time before my proving, remember why stone is my calling even if the dwindling faith around it isn’t.”  Kyrah furrowed her brow.  “You intend to become an earth bard?”

With a nod, he stood and flung a few coins across the room, to land noisily behind the pulpit.  “Such is the way of stone.  Unchanging in the face of…well…anything.”  He lead her out of the lower city, back to the well-lit and brightly painted upper Lightsfail, where they found an appropriate tavern and got very drunk on expensive wine.  Kyrah couldn’t sleep though, drunk as she was.  She lay against her lover’s chest and listened to his heartbeat as she gradually became sober, lost in her own thoughts.  The next day at work, she drank coffee instead of tea, while Embrose looked on with a wry smile.

Things returned to normal for a time, with a brisk trade in tea ruling Kyrahs days.  Music, laughter, and love ruled over her nights, and she forgot her own troubles again.  She didn’t bother making any other friends, preferring to spend her time with Embrose and Edmond.

Then came the Bardic proving of the Stormborne twins, and Kyrah witnessed it alongside Edmond.  He had been excited to see it the better part of a week, and she was tired of hearing about these twins.  They approached the park they had shared their first night out together at, but bypassed it for a strange tavern named The Cavern tucked away into the underside of a bridge.  The bridge had one side hollowed out, supported with thick metal beams that ran all through the tavern.  The entrance was directly behind the stage, from the roadway running beneath the bridge.  Once inside, people were streaming through the tavern to the different levels, finding places to sit or stand in anticipation of the coming show.

There were four levels to The Cavern, each reaching higher into the underside of the wall behind the road.  Each tier inside The Cavern was thin, with room only for one table between the wall and the railing down to the next level.  On normal nights, The Cavern hosted traveling musicians much like any other tavern.  However, they stood out by being the only tavern in Lightsfail to host the sometimes dangerous Bardic Provings.

During a proving, a hopeful Bard would attempt to summon wild magic through the use of their music.  This was often not successful, and could be dangerous to spectators if it was.  Wild magic was difficult to control or shape, and The Cavern had undergone several renovations throughout the centuries it stood to make the provings safer.  This night, the taverns owner and staff had wrapped thick sheets of cloth with ceramic exteriors around all the metallic support beams and braced each window open.  Roaring fires were present in each of the fireplaces, but the winter air was pervasive and most of the patrons wore thick warm gear even at their tables.  There was an air of anticipation and discomfort, as the gathered people talked lightly and sipped at hot beverages while waiting for the event to begin.

After a short but cold wait, Kyrah jumped in surprise when the tavern erupted into cheers.  She looked to the stage to see two women stepping up onto it holding instruments and wearing large white fur coats.  They had remarkably similar features, but each wore different hair styles. The woman holding a harp had her hair at shoulder length, and done up in a pair of tight to the scalp braids on one side.  The woman holding a violin wore her hair long and loose, in easy waves.  Both women were slender and tall, with platinum blonde hair, representative of peoples living in the Shattered Land off the coast of Kingfisher.

An announcer stepped up onto the stage with them, raising his hands for silence before making an introduction for them.  “Welcome, revered guests and witnesses, to the bardic proving of the Stormborne Twins!”  Another round of cheers and applause followed his proclamation and he smiled widely while waiting for the crowd to quiet again before continuing.

“To my left, playing the Gilded Harp is Mika Stormborne.”  The woman cast her long fur coat off, revealing an outfit of fitted shimmering silk.  Her dress was open at the back completely, and seemed to be more a series of wide ribbons covering her private areas than an actual article of clothing.  She wore a side sword with an elaborate basket hilt at her hip.

“To my right, playing the Rebec Viola is Ali Stormborne.”  She instantly threw off her coat as well, displaying an outfit of hardened leather.  She wore a full chest piece of plated leather, open at the arms.  Loose fitting leather pants with obvious sewn in kneepads and added plates of hardened leather finished the outfit.  She wore a claymore sword on her back, in a hard leather half sheath.

Each woman was applauded, but both held a firm stance on the stage and wore stoic expressions as the announcer continued.  “I must warn you, fair patrons, that you will almost certainly experience wild magic tonight.  This performance is meant to be a public confirmation of these fair maidens entrance into the ranks of the Bards!”  Again he had to pause for wild applause and cheering, but held his composure like a true showman.

“For your own safety, I warn you all with grave serious intent to keep your hands off of ALL metal objects, and to stay away from the windows.  Once more, do NOT touch anything metallic, most especially the railings or girders of this building!”  There he swept a brief bow before stepping off the stage.  Staff members rushed about the tavern, dimming lanterns and making sure patrons had a safe distance from large metal objects.  

Ali Stormborne began a rhythmic tapping of her booted heel on the stage, as Mika began to lightly pluck at the golden strings on her harp.  Mika began a flowing dance on stage, her steps perfectly matched to sound out the drumline of their song.  Ali joined in with a harsh sounding draw across her viola, as both women began to sing.  They had vastly different voices, with Ali’s being harsher and deeper than her sister’s soft high notes.

Kyrah jumped and grabbed at Edmonds arm as she felt a stirring in the air around them.  Other guests had a similar reaction, as a palpable power began to form in the room around the two performing women.  Thunder rumbled in the near distance as rain began to patter the floor from the open windows.  Still the women sang on, a ballad of a mighty battle at sea in a raging storm.  They described ships being torn asunder by ballista fire and the sea itself, as men died in the hundreds.

The very air in the tavern began to sway, in rhythm to the ballad, as the notes of suddenly not so distant thunder began conforming to the beat the performers made with their feet on the resounding stage.  Kyrah’s grip on Edmonds arm tightened sharply as the first sparking electrical jumps began, causing screams and shouts from the crowd.  The girders above their heads became alive with power, as sharp snaps of electrical output bounced between them at random.

The song itself was deeply sad and violent, describing a horrific battle at sea between two equally desperate forces and the deaths of heroes on both sides.  The sisters on stage seemed to ignore the violent magical forces they had summoned and kept on with the song until its bitter end.  With a stamp of her feet, Ali Stormborne unsheathed her claymore sword and thrust it up towards the ceiling, where several bolts of lightning struck the tip and caused the blade to redden with heat.  Her sister swept up from the stage, levitating as the air cyclone lifted her, causing her ribbon bedecked dress to swirl artfully around her.  Her sword leapt from her scabbard as if alive, and she reached the tip of it towards her sisters, causing a mighty arc of lightning to strike between them.

Then it was over, and the storm subsided as if it had never existed.  The strange feeling of growing power in the room also fled, and several members of the staff began turning up the lanterns flames again.  Several guests sat in stunned silence as the Bardic sisters stood together on stage, facing them expectantly.  As if they took a breath at the same time, the taverns patrons erupted in cheers and standing applause while stamping their feet.

Both sisters happily bowed, before gathering their coats and bowing again.  The announcer returned to the stage, a slightly stunned look on his face.  The jubilant crowd would not quiet enough for him to say anything however, and he merely held his hands out to the Stormborne sisters, bringing further bouts of applause and cheers.  Soon, they joined the now boisterous crowd, enjoying drinks and chatting lightly with each person who approached them with congratulations.

As Edmond walked her to the boarding house, Kyrah still felt shaken from the display of massive power she had witnessed.  She had grown up hearing stories about magic users, and even bards with their command of wild magic, but she never expected to see such a thing in person.  Even passing the haunted ruins on the outskirts of Lightsfail as she entered the city was not so disarming.

Edmond, however, had never seemed so lively to her.  He rambled about his own hopes for bardic power, his dreams of traveling the land performing for kings and high lords, and making great wealth in the process.  He explained that the Stormborne twins were already somewhat famous, and that he was sure his own proving would be nothing like theirs.

Later that night, in the dark and quiet of her room, she lay against his chest lost in her own thoughts again.  After a time of some quiet, she noticed his fingers had returned to the ribbon at her neck and she sighed.  Kyrah sat upright and stared at him for a moment, not showing any anger or resentment.  He began an apology, but she cut him off by reaching her own hands up to the ribbon and pulling at the knot that held it in place.  His eyes widened as the ribbon slid off, to land in a crumple on the bed.

Kyrah wore a long ugly raised red scar across her throat, in a straight line.  It was still angry looking, though the skin felt smooth when Edmond lightly traced it.  Her voice tremored slightly when she began to speak.  “I lied to you and Embrose about my parents…please forgive me.  I was afraid.”  Edmond embraced her, pulling her down onto the bed beside him so he could hold her as she whispered her explanation.

“My father was the Chief Alchemist to the Lord of Kingfisher, and all my life I lived in wealth and plenty, awaiting arranged marriage to some noble’s son or other.  I was happy enough, I suppose, for a sheltered child.  I loved my family, even the squalling brat that was my infant sister.”  There she paused for a moment, her own fingers tracing the scar across her throat.  “I don’t know why we had to run, father would never say.  He became angry with mother when she asked.  He just came home in a rush late one night and made us pack up all of our things and leave before dawn.  We had to leave most of our possessions behind, but he didn’t seem to care.  He spent most of the money he had as we traveled, buying passage on whatever coaches or freight carriers we could, for however long they traveled in the right direction.”

She shook slightly there, in the grip of a deeply unpleasant memory.  “I suppose whatever coin he had left was enough, because we were set upon by highwaymen.  They cut our throats, all but my sisters.  Three of them just walked into our camp, and they killed my parents on the spot, without even asking anything.  I think their leader didn’t have the stomach for it, because he tried to make his men cut my throat, but they refused.  He did it himself, must have done a poor job of it.  They left my sister to die in the cold, or be taken by wolves.”

Edmond held Kyrah tightly while she wept for a while.  Eventually she continued, though he dared not press her.  “I bound my throat as best I could and took my sister.  I carried her and what few things I could find from the camp in a hurry and made for Lightsfail.  I was a few days walk away, and terrified they would find me again.  I hid in a ranch and farm to sleep, and stole milk to feed my sister.  I knew I couldn’t care for her, so I left her at the orphanage when I arrived.  I didn’t know what else to do.”

She grew quiet, and wept a little into Edmonds side as he stroked her hair.  “By the Influentials…I don’t even know what to say.  I am so sorry Kyrah.”  After a moment, he became angry.  “I swear to you, by whatever I hold dear, that I will kill the men who did this to you.”  Kyrah immediately pressed a hand to his mouth, stopping him.  “Please.  Don’t.  I just want to live, and be happy.  I have that with you; don’t bring down trouble with foolish oaths.”

Edmond glared at the ceiling, fighting back bile at the horrible story.  He wouldn’t voice it, but he determined what his first use of bardic power would be for.  He set the idea in his heart, and couldn’t shake it from that moment on.  Eventually they slept, and Edmond never bothered Kyrah about her ribbon again.

As the days passed and winter began to show signs of giving way to an early spring, Kyrah found it harder to keep her spirits up.  She lay awake at nights beside Edmond, trying to move as little as possible to avoid disturbing him.  Anytime she awoke him, he worried about her, and she hated the feeling.  She complained to Embrose about his constant worrying nature one day, only to have her explain it was likely because he loved her.  The conversation left her in an even darker mood.

Her consort, as she had begun to think of him, practiced his music almost constantly.  He was obsessed with his proving, and even failed to call on her more than one night because of it.  He paid to consult with the Bardic Organization in the city, and seemed crestfallen after his audience with them.  Kyrah pressed him and he eventually opened up on the matter.

“They told me I was guaranteed to fail, basically.  Not in those words of course, but that was what they said.  The earth Influential is dead, so I can’t possibly tap into its magic.  No bards since the event have been able to, and every geomancer across the known world lost their magic.  It only makes sense.”  Kyrah shook her head in confusion.  “Can’t you choose another Influential to represent?”

His response was a small laugh, with a sad smile.  “Perhaps.  I don’t think it would work.  I’ve never felt a calling for any of the other paths.  The path of stone is how I was raised, it’s all I know.  Bardic power comes from within, but it has to mesh with the magic.  That’s why the music is so important; no person that has ever lived has managed to reach the emotional and mental plateau needed to direct wild magic without first doing it via their music.”

Kyrah thought for a moment in silence before speaking again.  “What if…what if earth magic drives those who touch it mad?  The elementals and earth dragons all went mad, now they are no better than monsters, killing and destroying anytime they are encountered.  What if the remaining Influentials are blocking the use of earth magic because it can do nothing but harm?”  Edmond immediately shook his head, speaking in a measured manner.  “I do not believe that is the case.  The death of the earth Influential drove them mad, by all accounts.  Earth magic is still present, its natural occurrence is used in several alchemical devices, and the use of those does not cause madness.”

She kissed him lightly on the cheek.  “I just worry about you.  I worry what will happen if your proving fails, but I also worry about what will happen if you succeed.”  He scowled.  “What do you mean?”

Kyrah rolled to her side restlessly and sighed before answering.  “I mean…what if you call earth magic and it brings an elemental or worse?  Or even if nothing bad happens, you’ll still become a famous bard and forget all about me.”  Edmond snuggled into place beside her and whispered in her ear.  “Nothing will ever change how I feel about you Kyrah.”  She smiled and kissed him again.  “Don’t say things like that.”

Three days later, on the morning of Edmonds Bardic Proving, she noticed a lighter color in her hair.  It was just at the top, where she normally parted it.  Turning away from the mirror, she immediately vomited into the water closets bowl and sat shaking on the floor for a few minutes afterwards.  That day, she moved almost mechanically, her mind far away.  She got several orders wrong; to the point Embrose asked her if she was alright.  Kyrah nodded and remained distant.

Later that day, after closing, Embrose asked Kyrah to come up to her home with her.  They climbed the narrow staircase up to Embroses house, above the tea shop.  Embrose lead her into a room filled with dusty old furniture and several chests placed almost haphazardly about the room.  Kyrah noticed a well-made oak bassinet in a corner.  She spoke before thinking.  “You have a child?!”  The young woman saw her mistake the instant Embrose turned to face her.  Pain laced her friends face as she put on a small smile.  “An optimistic gift from an equally optimistic friend, I’m afraid.”

Embrose began to rummage through the various chests, speaking over her shoulder.  “Loothem and I have tried, several times.  Anytime seed takes, I cannot seem to keep the poor thing past a few months.”  Kyrah stood in shamed silence for a moment before speaking in a very small voice.  “Embrose, I am sorry.  Influentials, I should have thought before I opened my damned mouth!  I never want to hurt you.  I’ve never had a friend…well, like you.  Real.”

Embrose crossed the room and pressed her in a hug, before continuing her search through the chests.  “Do not waste thought on it girl, I know you meant no harm.”  She made a satisfied sound, producing a long grey and white gown.  It had an open back and lace across the shoulders, reaching down the arms and part way across the chest.  Embrose held it up to Kyrah, nodding appreciatively.  “I believe this will do nicely.  I may have to take it in a bit, just a small bit, across the chest.  But you should look positively stunning in this.”

The women spent the next hour making alterations and putting Kyrah’s hair up, as Edmond waited downstairs in the tea shop.  His jaw dropped when Kyrah walked carefully down the steps in her new dress.  She blushed, touching the ribbon at her neck.  After a mildly uncomfortable moment while he gaped at her, she crossed the room and took his arm, kissing him lightly on the lips.

He had dressed finely as well, wearing a suit of slate grey with a pure white tie at his throat.  His overcoat was a dusky slate color, and he wore the Ithir in a case across his back.  Embrose smiled as she came downstairs to see them together.  “You match wonderfully.  Best of luck young man, and be gentle with that dress, it’s older than both of you combined.”

Kyrah rushed over and crushed her friend in a hug, kissing her on the cheek.  “I cannot possibly thank you enough.”  Embrose brushed her aside with a smile and climbed the stairs again to get dressed herself.  Tickets for Edmonds proving were far more available and affordable than had been the Stormborne twins, and Embrose had charmed Sir Loothem into taking her to the performance.

As Kyrah and Edmond walked through the streets, she could sense how nervous and twitchy he was.  As they passed shops and taverns they frequented, the occasional person would shout words of encouragement, or a friendly jest.  Edmond bore it all with his usual cheerful attitude, but Kyrah could tell he was terrified.  They reached The Cavern, and Edmond spoke at some length with the taverns owner while Kyrah sipped at a glass of dark red wine, seated alone at a table directly before the stage.

Within the hour, patrons began to enter, but the atmosphere was vastly different from the previous event Kyrah had witnessed.  The tavern was warm and inviting, with no obvious precautionary measures taken.  Kyrah flagged down a barman for a refill, and when he brought it over she asked him about it.  “Oh no chance any magic will show tonight lass.  Nothing against the young bard, he’s a showman pure and sure.  Just that, you know…the Influential is dead.  Can’t have the magic without the Influential.  Asides, there’s no way to shore up the place against earth magic anyhow.  World’s well rid of it, you ask me.”  Kyrah glared at him coldly.  “I did not.  Thank you.”  She crossed her legs and sipped at her wine rather sullenly.

Eventually, Edmond returned and sat with her, a squat glass of Dwarven whiskey sat in front of him.  He took only a sip from it before the announcer began.  Kyrah quickly kissed him on the lips, longer than she should have.  When they broke apart, she was staring into his eyes, a smile on her lips.  “Whatever happens, know that I love you, Edmond.”  He returned the smile, and kissed her again, quickly this time.  Then he stepped up onto the stage, amid modest cheers and applause.

Kyrah scanned the room as the announcer spoke about her love, noticing some oddities among the guests.  The Dirk Tips gang was present, in an upper balcony, with drinks in hands while they spoke too loudly.  As the announcer gave the stage over to Edmond, their leader Rennie gave a brash cheer and raised his mug.  Kyrah started in her seat as she saw Nicolai standing beside the stage with his arms crossed and a mildly unhappy look on his face.

But then Edmond was playing, and nothing else mattered.  He sat down in a chair on the stage and propped up the Ithir between his legs, lowering his head.  A deep rumbling sound began to slowly emanate from his throat as he began a slow draw across the Ithir with his bow.  Using different areas in his throat, Edmond formed a slowly coalescing melody with the Ithirs unique sound.  Heated with the warming fluid, his strings were in perfect tune, and the music slowly began to reveal itself.

He played a Dwarven Dirge; a lament of the worst tragedy to strike the proud and ancient Dwarven kingdom, the attack of the great earth dragon, Beryl.  She was the singular Named Dragon of the earth Influential, and went horribly mad upon the powerful beings death.  Through the use of his melodic humming, and the heartbreaking sound his Ithir made, Edmond painted the picture of the attack for the crowd.  Beryl had almost destroyed the entire race of the Dwarves, killing a full third of them in a single day of blind rage and destruction.  She had used her stone breath to change tens of thousands of innocent peasants into statues, and ripped a giant scar into the northern mountain range.  Beryl dug and clawed, her massive wings beating avalanches down the mountainside, until she unearthed the Dwarves home city, and then tore it out of the mountain entirely.  By the time she was finished, nothing lived in the once proud and beautiful capital of the Dwarves kingdom.

The mountainside itself was torn asunder, a great scar in the range that was visible for hundreds of leagues across the great northern steps.  Edmond sang the traditional lament well, and in the Dwarven custom.  As he continued, Kyrah felt a sense of something intangible stirring in the room.  She looked over at Nicolai, and saw the man standing alert, his arms uncrossed, while he held a small bit of deep green crystal.  Kyrah became terribly afraid, the Dirge bringing horrifying thoughts to her as she swore she could feel the magic forming.

But nothing happened.  Edmond finished the Dirge, and took his bow to the scattered applause.  Nicolai seemed to relax, the crystal object he palmed disappeared into a pocket as he turned and simply walked out.  From the upper balcony, Rennie and the Dirk Tips were cheering and applauding wildly.  When others did not share their enthusiasm, Rennie shouted out across the tavern.  “You lot best stand and appreciate that man.  He’s my thrice damned brother, and the best Bard in Lightsfail, magic or no!”  Kyrah went pale, and had to steady herself on the table to avoid fainting entirely.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!  Edmond Rennald, bard hopeful!  While no wild magic made itself known, I think we could all feel it circulating.  What a performance, either way!  Cmon folks, let’s hear it for him.”  The announcer was very kind, and indeed many additional people stood and applauded politely.  Soon, the tavern was calm again, with other normal musicians performing and drinks being served liberally.

Rennie led the Dirk Tips over, rather drunk.  “Brother! What a show, you always were the talented one!”  Edmond sighed and stood, embracing his drunk and criminal brother briefly.  “Hello Erik, thanks very much for coming.”

The elder Rennald brother made a face.  “Call me Rennie brother, everyone else does.  That was a hell of a show little brother, a HELL of a show.  Oh hello miss, sorry.”  He faced Kyrah, seemingly unaware of who she was.  The bald man with the earrings whispered in his ear and he nodded.  “Right right, Kyrah.  By the Influentials, you look amazing girl.  Brother, don’t tell me you’ve managed to bed this one?!”

Edmond turned red, his anger apparent.  He shoved away from the arm his brother tried to cast over his shoulders.  “You’re drunk Erik.  Speak civilly, if you please.”  His older brother cuffed him lightly on the shoulder.  “You speak civilly.  I don’t mean nothing by it Eddie, c’mon.  I just wanted to show some support for my little brother.  Don’t worry; I won’t darken your night any further.  Come on lads, let’s go someplace a little less upscale.”  They turned to leave.

Something unexpected snapped in Kyrah and she spoke after them.  “New special at the shop tomorrow boys, be sure and drop by.”  Don glared back at her, his dislike of the tea shop obvious.  Rennie waved a hand dismissively, not slowing.  “As sure as the dawn.”

A little later, Edmond and Kyrah left The Cavern as well.  Edmond was in poor spirits, as she had expected he would be.  They walked in silence for a while, Kyrah savoring the cold night.  Edmond surprised her by pulling away.  “I’m sorry Kyrah.  I think I need to just walk and think tonight.”  She became afraid instantly.  “Edmond no…please.  I don’t want to be alone tonight.”  He looked at her and seemed to think for a moment, before relenting.  “I can’t say no to you.”

With a great flood of relief, she led Edmond back to the Gentleman’s Collar, and her bed.  After, she slept peacefully against his chest while he lay awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to the slowly dying fire beside them.  He eventually slipped away a couple of hours before the infernal alarm could rouse Kyrah, and simply walked the city lost in his own thoughts.  He did not see her stirring as he closed her door behind him.

Kyrah rose with a sinking pit of fear in her stomach.  No matter what she did, she could not shake it, all throughout her morning routine.  After leaving a piece of carefully folded paper on the beds cover, she dressed plainly, and walked across the street to the Blood and Tea, still horribly afraid.  Soon she walked the Under-Road, making her normal deliveries.  She had no stomach for small talk, and was short with each patron who opened their door to her.

When she arrived at the Redistributorium, Edmonds father opened the door to her.  He said Edmond had not come in yet, and asked her to send him over if she saw him.  Kyrah paused for a moment, and then turned back before he could close the door.  “I’m afraid I won’t be seeing Edmond again, Mr. Rennald.  I would appreciate it if you would give him this letter.”  She produced a simple folded page of paper, handing it to the aging shopkeeper.  He held a confused look on his face, but accepted the page and pocketed it with a nod.

All throughout the day, she worked with no heart.  She barely spoke to Embrose, and could not seem to face the other woman.  Then came the moment she had been dreading, as the Dirk Tips entered the shop, searching for a place to sit.  She put on her best smile and greeted them with great cheer.  After seating them at a table outside, Kyrah returned to fetch their order.  She paused and seemed to dither a bit, arranging the cups on the platter.  Glancing behind herself to ensure Embrose was not watching, she slid another folded piece of paper partially beneath a cloth on the counter behind her friend.

She waved a cheery good morning to Sirs Loothem and Versi as they entered and she bustled past.  Stopping by Nicolais table, she stared at the man for a moment before he again patiently closed his book and looked up at her.  “I may need you outside in a few moments.  I apologize for the inconvenience.”  He scowled and said nothing, as she bustled away.

        Kyrah carefully placed each cup of steaming tea before the Dirk Tips, giving Rennie his last.  Don grabbed at his cup and sneered.  “Finally.  Its bloody freezing out here.”  She watched closely, standing beside their table as each member of the gang took their first sips, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure everyone in the city could hear it.  Don died first, and mercifully quick.

        He had been chuckling at something Rennie had said, before he began to choke and cough.  He spluttered as blood began to flow freely out of his nose, and pool in his eyes.  Without so much as a word, Don slumped over dead onto the table, a great pool of blood gushing from his face to splatter off the side of the table onto the cobbles below.  The bald man instantly stood and grabbed Kyrah by the throat with a growl.  He squeezed, cutting off her ability to breathe as he shoved her roughly into the side of the building.

        She held his gaze, unwavering with a snarl as blood began to course out of his nose.  He coughed and sprayed a small amount of blood and spittle onto her face, but she ignored it.  As his hand lost its strength, his eyes filled with blood and he gasped for air like a fish on the shore.  A passerby screamed, impossibly high pitched, and several other civilized people nearby joined in.  Kyrah grabbed him by the front of his shirt with surprising strength and growled into his face.  “You were right about me from the start.”  She gave him a little push and he fell to the side, another pool of dark blood forming beneath him.

Rennie tried to stand, to speak.  He could do neither, as he raised a shaking hand to his nose.  A great smear of blood came away, and he struggled again to rise.  Kyrah swept around behind him, one arm circling his throat as Sir Loothem burst out of the door onto the patio.  She reached into her top with her free hand, and glared at the Keeper from behind Rennie.  Sir Loothem stopped dead, his eyes going to her hand.

A tiny ball of fragile crystal held a bright red fluid, and Kyrah held it outstretched at the mighty Keeper, stopping him in his tracks.  The color slid from his face as he took in the macabre scene.  She stood for a moment, allowing him to see all that she had done as Rennie spluttered and choked under her grip.

“Do you know what this is, Keeper?”  Her voice was twisted in a snarl, unlike anything the Keeper had seen from this girl before.  Sir Loothem raised a hand, shouting at Sir Versi to stop.  His partner had been slowly moving around behind Kyrah, his booted feet making no sound in the slush.  “I surely do.  Alchemists Fire.”  He looked down for a moment, and then took a step backwards, closing the door behind him.  “Please Kyrah.  Do not hurt these people.”

She rose slightly, looking behind her at Sir Versi.  His longsword was firmly gripped in his right hand, his guardsman’s shield in his left.  “If either of you so much as move before I have had my say, you will have chosen that fate for them.”  Sir Loothem nodded to Sir Versi, and the other man sheathed his sword, but stood clearly at the ready.  Embrose appeared at the window behind Sir Loothem and screamed wordlessly as she saw what Kyrah had done.  Kyrah ignored her completely.

She growled into her captive’s ear.  “There was Bleeding Horror in that tea.  I’ve killed you.”  Rennie spluttered in response.  She continued.  “You cut my throat, killed my parents, and left my infant sister to die in the cold.  You deserve this you coward!”  She spat the last, violently.  Then her face softened.  “I was not aware you were my loves brother until last night.  All these last months, wasted.”  She released him and produced yet another small bottle, filled with milky looking liquid.  Still brandishing the Alchemists Fire towards Sir Loothem, she popped off the bottles cork and tipped back Rennies head, pouring it into his mouth.

Almost instantly, he began to breathe easier, and his bleeding stopped.  With a defeated look on her face, she turned and handed the Alchemists Fire to the Keeper, who breathed a huge sigh of relief as he carefully took it.  He stared at her, perplexed.  “Kyrah…why did you do all of this?”  She said nothing and simply stared at the ground.  Sir Versi lightly vaulted over the railing into the patio, securing Rennies arms behind his back with some leather straps.  He turned towards Kyrah with another length of the tie in his hands.

She willingly offered her hands to him, her wrists together before her.  He tied them together gently, before quickly searching her.  She looked up, seeing Nicolai seated at the far table across the patio.  “Thank you Nicolai.”  The man had his arms crossed, with an eyebrow raised.  “I’m afraid I don’t fully understand what my role here was, frankly.”

Kyrah looked up past his shoulder.  Edmond stood in the street on the other side of the railing, his mouth hanging open.  The young woman smiled sadly at him, before turning her gaze back to the infamous magic expert.  “To explain, Necromancer.  To tell the others what happened.”  With that, she reached her tied hands up and pulled loose the ribbon at her throat, leaning her neck up towards the meager sunlight peeping through the clouds overhead.

The angry scar at her throat bubbled, and then burst into a line of tiny flames.  Kyrah slumped against Sir Loothem, her life pouring out of her cut throat onto the cobbles as the black color rapidly drained from her hair, leaving it a natural dirty blonde.  As the light faded from her mind, she could hear Embrose screaming from inside the shop.  She was dead before Sir Loothem could catch her as she fell.

Nicolai sat with Sirs Versi and Loothem at a table in the local guardsman office an hour later.  Rennie was asleep in a cell behind them.  Two pieces of previously folded paper sat on the desk between them, as did four small bottles, three of which were empty.  The only one that still had liquid in it was the bottle of Alchemists Fire Kyrah had threatened the lives of everyone in the tea shop with.

Nicolai began.  “Kyrah Bennom, as we knew her, was dead before she entered this city almost four months ago.”  Both Keepers sat calmly, saying nothing.  Nicolai continued, picking up a small black vial from the table before him.  “This is Vel-Blood potion.  It is made primarily from the blood of a Vampire, among other ingredients.  This potion grants its imbiber some of the healing abilities of the Vampire it was crafted from, as well as the hair color and certain personality influences.  It is temporary, and can only last six months if crafted extraordinarily well.  Even then, any wounds healed with it are vulnerable to sunlight or silver as would be a Vampire.  The average use of Vel-Blood potion lasts between three and four months.”

There he paused to set the vial down and motion towards the cell.  “You will have to question that man when he awakens to be certain, but from what I heard, and what she wrote in this letter, it seems like she consumed this potion sometime after he had cut her throat.  Since the effect is not permanent; once the potion had run its course she would have returned to the state she was in prior to drinking it.  The body is altered by the potion, and once it is used, another will have no effect.”  Sir Loothem picked up the note and reread it for the tenth time.

“To whomever searches my belongings,

I was Kyrah Arclight, until four months ago.  I traveled towards Lightsfail with my parents and infant sister.  We were set upon by what I assumed to be highwaymen two days west of the city, just outside the ranches and farms.  These men cut my parents throats, as well as mine, before leaving my infant sister for a cruel death from the elements or predatory animals.  I had apprenticed under my father, an alchemist, and knew what the potion would do to me, but I could not simply leave my sister to die.  I drank the Black Death to save my sister, I can remember that much.  However, I felt compelled to follow these men back into the city, to avenge my parents and myself. I could think of little else for days.  I do not know how I will have accomplished this task upon the time of this letters reading, but I would like to apologize if I have hurt anyone other than those I intend to murder.”

Sir Versi scowled.  “So she drank the potion, stalked the Dirk Tips back to Lightsfail, and then what?  She was established in the Blood and Tea, she could have poisoned them at any time in the last four months.”  Nicolai nodded.  “I cannot say for certain, but I imagine she found reasons to delay her vengeance.”

There he pointed to one of the other bottles.  “This is Bleeding Horror.  It is a poison derived from the Bleeding Skull mushroom, and it dissolves the mucous membrane tissues of its victims.  They drown in their own blood, or die when it reaches the linings around the brain.  Be very careful how you dispose of this.”

He lifted the third empty bottle.  “This is White Mud.  Very expensive and rare.  It can cure almost any poison that exists, with instant effect, and has some slight healing properties as well.  I have seen her consorting with the younger brother of your prisoner, and I suspect she found herself unable to go through with her plan.”

That said, he rose from his seated position and turned to leave.  Both Keepers rose as well.  Sir Versi reached to shake his hand.  “Thank you for your consultation, Omnimancer.  I will ensure your standard payment is delivered to your account.  Nicolai looked down at the outstretched hand for a moment, almost confused.  He slowly reached forward and shook the Keepers hand lightly, before turning on his heel to leave.  He stopped at the door, before closing it and turning back.

“I would be remiss if I did not mention this.  That young man she was consorting with; Edmond Rennald.  He very nearly became an Earth Bard last night.”  Sir Loothem scoffed.  “Nonsense.  The Earth Influential is dead; there is no earth magic any longer.”  Nicolai glared at the man.  “As you say, the Influential is dead.  The magic of earth is still very much present, however.  If he had succeeded, I cannot say what manner of devastation he could have called down on this city.”

Sir Versi turned, hands clasped behind his back.  “I was under the impression that Earth Magic could no longer be used.  By anyone, Bard or no.  I do not understand.”  Nicolai frowned, an expression he was well versed in.  “I was under that impression myself.  I personally confirmed the restriction of Earth Magic immediately after the death of the Influential, and in the three hundred and forty six years since no earth magic has been used by the young races of Brezcia.  This young mans near success last night is extremely troubling.  I intend to launch an investigation into this matter; may I count on the co-operation of the City Watch?”

Both men nodded vigorously.  Sir Loothem held the door open for him as he began to leave again.  “Of course, Nicolai.  Whatever assistance we can provide, simply ask and it will be yours.”  After the Omnimancer was gone, Sir Loothem turned to his partner.  “That is unsettling.  I leave you to this mess, I must attend to Embrose.  She is devastated by these events.”  Sir Versi nodded, a slightly disapproving expression on his face.  As Sir Loothem left, he pulled up a chair to sit and watch their prisoner.

Early in the dark of the next morning, Edmond approached the gate to the park where he had shared his first night with Kyrah, a piece of crumpled paper clutched in his hand.  It read simply: “My dearest Edmond, I am so sorry for everything.  Please forget me.  Sing happy songs.”  He staggered into the gate, drunk on raging emotions and Dwarven Whiskey.  Clearing his head a bit as he shook the gate, he realized it was locked.  After a moment of fumbling at the lock, Edmond reached into a pocket and produced the bladder of Warming Fluid, squeezing it hard into the locks keyhole.

Within a few moments, the locks delicate inner workings had become slag, and it clicked open loudly.  Edmond shoved the gate aside and walked down the path, his head continuing to clear with purpose as he passed beneath the skeletal trees.  He walked to the Lovers Stone, and drew out a short file made of hardened steel.  He had stolen it from his father’s tool chest before storming out of the shop and his childhood home to seek strong drink.

As he reached for the massive boulder to etch his and Kyrahs names, he noticed her name was already present.  It sat two hand lengths below the lowest of the other names, and a line traced upwards through the crush of names and symbols above it.  The line reached up past the other names, well above his head, but he could see his own name etched into the stone.

Edmonds strength failed, and he slumped to his knees, weeping.  After a moment, an unbidden anger washed over him and he stood and struck the boulder with his naked fist.  The massive boulder shattered as shards of stone flew out away from the young Earth Bard.  He screamed as he felt the powerful magic weaving around and through him, and the stone walls surrounding him also flew to shards.  A hole was blasted into the wall beside him, exposing and destroying a section of the Under-Road as the wall secreting the garden flew apart and rained down across the lower parts of Lightsfail.

A stunned lamp tender stood outside the gate of the garden, staring at Edmond as the young man fled from the scene of his Bardic Proving.  He had inadvertently destroyed The Cavern, which stood directly behind the wall that covered the Lovers Stone.

A week passed.  Embrose stood in the lobby of the Blood and Tea, reading a piece of thick paper that looked like it had been folded and unfolded a few times too many.  She wept a little, but smiled sadly.

“Dear Embrose,

I am so sorry for all that I have called down upon you.  My dearest wish is that we could have met under different circumstances, with a different outcome.  I lied to you from the first, and it pained me every time I looked at you, my only true friend in this life.  I pray that no fault for my ghastly actions comes to rest on your shoulders, and I pray that you forget me as soon as you can.  You are the kindest, most beautiful woman I have ever met, and I wish you every happiness.

I know that I have no right to ask anything of you, but I have no one else…and you were my friend.  I do not know how much of my actions I can truly blame on the potion that consumed me, but I never once forgot my purpose in taking it.  I placed the majority of the money you gave me for working for you into an account at the Bank of Lightsfail, in your name.  You are the only person who can access it.  I would beg of you to give that money to the Sisters of Hope orphanage in lower Lightsfail, for the care of my young sister, whose name is Maylah.

I cannot ever hope to thank you for all that you have done for me, but I hope you know that I loved you, in my own way.  Goodbye my friend.”

Embrose wiped the tears from her cheeks, and turned as Sir Loothem came down the stairs.  He carried a young child with dirty blonde hair who reached for Embrose with a squeal of laughter.  Embrose bounced the baby girl on her hip with a smile as she turned the sign in her front window to ‘Open for Business’ for the first time since Kyrah had died on her patio.  After a moment, she turned back and placed another sign in the window next to it that read ‘Employment opportunities, enquire within.’

The End.