Of all the things Brand expected tonight, eating dinner was not one of them. After the Captain's harrowing negotiations with the Lightbringers, the rebel leader Shayn had insisted they stay the night and eat a proper Danic meal. Moss and Cent were more than eager to agree, with Libro and Elba hesitantly following suit. And while the food had been bountiful and delicious, the table space was a different matter all together.

Brand sighed as he toyed with a handful of iron shavings, trying his best not to stare at the others. They sat at the head table with Shayn and a retinue of his rebel lackeys, eating, drinking, laughing to their heart's content while he sat alone in one of the corners. The meal beside him remained untouched, the meat on his plate having long since grown cold.

He wasn't jealous or anything. Cinnis would never waste his time on such a childish emotion. He was an adult now, a Stelecaster, the greatest in all the Medial for Nido's sake. Besides, he had better things to focus on, things worthy of his time. His eyes fell upon the metal shavings as his thoughts drifted back to the barn.

No normal man could crush an iron ball with their bare hands. The logic bound to this world denied such thoughts. Human muscles were not made for such a task, and yet the Captain had crushed the iron ball in his grasp as if it was made of chalk. Magick then, had to have been involved. To alter the world's logic and make the impossible possible

But as far as Brand knew, and he'd spent the better part of a year making sure of it, the Captain was not Talented in any conceivable way. He was as mundane as everyone else in the Vangen.

And yet Brand could not deny what he'd seen that day, what he'd felt. The tugging snap of his magick getting trapped in Libro's palm, the faint glow of the dark marks lighting up his forearm, the hazy shimmer forming above his shoulder. The scars of his Captain's past were more than they appeared, and Brand had spent countless hours pondering over what else they were capable of.

There was a loud crack as a wooden cup slid across the table, frothy beer sloshing onto his hands. Brand flinched as his concentration broke, bits of iron clattering onto the table as he lost his grip. He looked up, saw Tergrid leering over him as she sat into a nearby chair.

"Why aren't you sitting with the grownups?" She asked, taking a slurp of her cup with the slightest grimace. "Or do you Middenites prefer brooding in corners by your lonesome?"

"Maybe," Brand muttered as he flicked the last droplets of beer off his fingers. "Or maybe it has something to do with a lack of table space around here." They looked up at the head of the room, Shayn and his crew laughing raucously at some joke Libro had made.

"Sorry for that. Would have brought out the bigger tables had Shayn not turned them into shields for the rebellion. Could have dragged the one out from my home." Tergrid paused, staring vacantly into the candlelight for a moment before the mocking edge returned in her voice. "But who has time these days?"

She jabbed a calloused finger at the bits of iron on the table. "What's that?"

Brand cocked an eyebrow at her. "Metal."

"I can see that you ornery ass. I mean what are they for? I'm assuming you Middenites don't roll them around in your palm for nothing?" She paused for a second. "Unless, that is what you do. No judgment of course."

Brand couldn't tell if she was serious or simply mocking him. The slight curve to her lips said otherwise, but her shimmering eyes held genuine curiosity in them. Was this some type of game then? He remembered the earlier back and forth they'd had when she'd teased him about his staff. A joke then. It had to be. And he would not be mocked a second time.

His eyes settled on the cup, the beer within still frothy and fizzy with the scent of damp earth. "What's the cup for?" He asked, matching her question with his own. "Trying to get me drunk and make a bigger fool out of me? You did plenty back at the mill already."

Brand winced at the sharpness in his tone as Tergrid sat back, the sides of her neck growing bright red as she took a sip from her cup. Damn it, but his mouth was getting the better of him already, and here he was trying to be the ambassador of Middengard expected of him by Libro.

"More of a peace offering to be honest," Tergrid said. Her eyes sat watchful over the rim of her cup. "And you didn't answer my question."

"Oh." Brand took a sip of his drink, nose full with the heady aroma of cooked hops and barley. The alcohol was weak, thank the goddess, the lukewarm mixture easily palpable as he drained it into his gullet. He placed the cup back with a gentle thunk. "They're part of an experiment I'm conducting. A personal project of mine."

"Ah, I see. Boys and their toys. I'm sure it's something that would go right over a simple farm girl's head like myself, eh?"

Brand snorted, the warmth of the alcohol already beginning to glow in his stomach. "Oh please, something tells me you're far more clever than you make yourself to be." He paused, eyes growing wide as he realized what he'd said. Damn him and his big mouth.

"Oh really?" Tergrid asked, her voice taking on a delicious purr that Brand hadn't recognized before. With one gulp she downed the rest of her drink, tossing the empty mug over one shoulder. "And what gave that away?"

Brand took another sip of the beer, his head swimming over what to say. This wasn't feeling like a normal conversation anymore. It felt more like a trap, with each word he spoke digging him deeper and deeper into it.

"It's your eyes," he said, practically forcing the words out with as much delicacy as he could muster. "And the way you carry yourself. Back at the mill you mocked my staff, but I could tell you were ready to kill me at a moment's notice." His gaze met hers with a sudden rise of drunken bravado. "You knew it was dangerous. That I was dangerous."

Tergrid smiled, the same way Brand's father used to when he'd been caught scheming and had to save face. "And it looks like I was right. Seems you're just as clever, Cinnis."

A cold shiver ran through Brand's body as she said his name. The new one, the correct one, and yet it still somehow didn't feel right. Like an oversized coat.

"Tell me then," she continued. "About your staff. What's so special about it? Can you shoot lightning from it? Can you transform it into a snake and make it bite your enemies?" She put two fingers beside her mouth and hissed, wiggling from side to side in her chair.

Brand snorted into his cup, coughed as foamy beer shot up his nose. He spat, snorted, laughed as he wiped his mouth. "If only I had such powers. I could quit the Vangen and open up a traveling circus instead."

"Far less dangerous I would imagine."

"At least the pay would be just as lousy. No, no, the staff is just a staff." He reached out and gave it a gentle stroke along the handle from its place against the wall. "It has a lot of sentimental value. A lot of good memories."

"Oh yeah? "How so?"

"Care to listen?" Brand asked, heart thumping wildly at the prospect of being listened to. He stared down at the iron bits still scattered about the table, an idea forming in his mind. "I promise it'll be a story you'll never forget."

"We'll see about that. Danic is quite known for its storytellers." Tergrid leaned in close as if to challenge him. "You'll be hard pressed to match their skill, let alone beat them."

"Ah, but they don't have the one thing I do," Brand said, willing the magick around him. "First hand experience." One by the one the iron bits began to rise off the table, hovering in formation. Tergrid's jaw dropped as he slowly transformed them into tiny figurines.

"It was over a year ago," he started saying. "The Vangen had come to my city to liberate it from the tyrannical clutches of my uncle." A metal city formed between them, tiny trebuchets and soldiers surrounding it. "At that time I was ignorant of my uncle's crimes. I truly believed he was blameless, that the Vangen were my enemies, but I was wrong."

The city and its attackers twisted and formed into new shapes, two people standing over a railing, one driving a knife into the other. The memory came back to Brand just as painfully. It took a second for him to find his voice again. "He tried to kill me in one of his schemes, but I survived and with the aid of the Vangen they helped me claim my vengeance."

A new scene formed, two people riding on horseback as they chased after a great winged beast. "But my uncle had one last trick up his sleeve. With the power of his Stelecasting, he created a Wyrm made of solid metal to try and kill us, but with the help of...my friend... we ended its short lived existence."

One of the riders jumped off, taking the sword in its hand and holding it up like a javelin. With a mighty thrust the tiny splinter of metal went hurling towards the metal Wyrm. Brand remembered it so vividly, watching the sliver of metal sail past, missing the Wyrm before he'd reached back out again, pulling it up and over before severing the creature's wing from its body.

Tergrid watched dumbstruck as the metal Wyrm spun head over heels before crashing into the table. With a final gesture, the splinter slapped back into the rider's hand, shaped into the same staff leaning close beside.

"His sword became my staff," Brand said. "And together we killed the creature, ending my uncle's rule over the Medial forever." He didn't mention the part where he was soon exiled by the new ruling class of Middengard. Some parts of the past were meant to stay buried. The bad ones, at least." He let the iron figurines drop to the table, clattering against the wood as the story ended.

Tergrid sat there a moment, eyes glittering in the firelight. Shadows danced in the sharp curves of her cheekbones, making mischief in her eyes. Brand couldn't tell if she was sad, thoughtful, or merely drunk. Perhaps a combination of all three, he reckoned.

"What happened to your friend afterwards?" she asked after some time. "You make it sound like he's not around anymore. Did the Wyrm kill him?"

"We both survived, but he disappeared after the battle was over."

"Disappeared?"

"Aye, vanished into thin air practically," Brand said. His chest ached as he kept up the lie. "It's been a year now searching for them and I've yet to find him. I've only this staff to remember them by."

"I'm sorry," Tergrid said. She reached out, placing a hand over his before pulling back, the color around her neck glowing a deeper shade of red. "I didn't mean to bring up such bad memories."

"It's all right," Brand said. The skin around his hand tingled from where she'd touched him. He bit his lower lip as he looked up at her. "I appreciate you listening to me."

"Anytime." They held each other's gaze a moment longer as a drunken chorus swelled around them, wrapping the room with laughter and song.

And for some odd reason, Brand could not stop smiling.

***