OoOoO

"Here, travelers, is where we must part ways."

Sonak had stopped them on a rocky downgrade, hidden from view of the main road into Hashodi by bushy black pine trees on all sides. From the top of the hill, they had been able to just glimpse the northern capital; tiered rooftops and high walls, all built from various shades of the same grey granite. Surprisingly, the walls of Hashodi hardly seemed to mark the end of The Night Forest. Rather, spiked treetops could be seen poking up all throughout the city, their enormous height implying that their growth had been in no way interrupted by the presence of Hashodi and its citizens.

Lhara was so excited to reach their destination, she hardly noticed when Sonak and his children split off from the group. Reyson noticed though, and upon calling out after them had been met with Sonak's cryptic reply.

"But why?" asked Yidu. "You said the gates of Hashodi would only be minutes down the hill from here."

Sonak nodded. "And so, our contract is fulfilled. We cannot be seen entering the city with the four of you though. There is another, smaller gate which is known to us, further around to the northwest."

"You should have no troubles in following the road to the main gate," added Konnah, a tad apologetic.

"I ought to take back a couple luns from the fee for this trip," Reyson grumbled.

"Ah, but you already paid us in full before we left Blue Stone." Turak's black eyes glittered with amusement.

Lhara was less concerned with the money as she was the sudden parting of ways. She and Yidu had both grown rather fond of their guides, particularly Konnah.

"Will we see you again?"

"Well, that depends," answered Konnah.

"Depends? Depends on what?" asked Yidu.

"On how your Factionist errand is received once you reach the city gate." Despite her ominous words, Konnah still rejoined the group long enough to take Lhara and Yidu's hands and press them. Her smile was genuinely warm. "We have our own business in Hashodi, before we return to our home in Tingenik. If your path ever leads that far north, you would be welcome to visit me. By then, I think I will have married my beloved, so we might even have our own household to host you in!"

"You say that as if Bua and I would leave them out in the cold." Turak folded his arms in mock offense.

"You'll have your tiny house more than full enough with the little one your wife has on the way," Konnah quipped back.

"Ahem," interrupted Reyson. "Well, if you're set on leaving us here, then it's goodbye for now. And thank you, I suppose, for not losing us somewhere in The Night Forest."

Sonak accepted Reyson's offered hand, while Konnah and Turak likewise made their farewells to Lhara, Yidu, and Jath. With no further ado, the three northerners slipped away into the woods. Although they were gone in seconds – all but vanishing into the pines – the faint chiming of Konnah's bells lingered.

That left Lhara, Yidu, Reyson, and Jath alone on the wooded hillside, first watching after the guides' departure, but then looking to one another. By unspoken agreement, everyone waited upon Reyson's say-so before continuing. Hashodi presented an enormous unknown, not only to the four of them, but to the world at large. As far as the wider realm of Goran was concerned, the north kept to themselves. Its inhabitants rarely involved themselves in capital affairs...rarely were even seen beyond the cities of Vaelona and Blue Stone; the northernmost cities of central Goran beyond Amenthere. By all reports, the regent of the north - the mysterious Vállin White-Fox - had been paying taxes to the crown with all the precision of a mechanical timepiece. Just during their journey through The Night Forest, Lhara and the others had seen royal soldiers riding south along the main road from Hashodi. For all they knew, the northern capital might be a veritable hive of loyalist sentiment.

They had no choice but to find out though. Adjusting his pack on his shoulder and bringing a hand to rest on the hilt of his sword, Reyson jerked his head toward the road.

"Come on. The days are getting shorter, no sense approaching the gate after nightfall."

The four of them were quiet as they navigated their way down the hillside. Sharp outcropping of dark stone poked up through the forest mulch on all sides, but it was not the need to concentrate that kept everyone silent. They were all tense, unsure of just what might happen once they entered the city. Once they found the road and were able to walk side-by-side, Lhara found her hands grasping without conscious thought for both Jath and Yidu. Both took one of her hands in return, and the three of them followed after Reyson around the bend.

At first, Lhara almost didn't realize what she was looking at. The outer walls of Hashodi appeared through the pines like a granite cliff face, as if they were walking in a valley and had suddenly come upon the boundaries of the space. Ivy grew thickly across the stones in many places, further veiling their man-made architecture. Vertical banners of deepest violet emblazed with silver stars – the heraldry of Hashodi - made it clear exactly where they were though. A pair of pikemen wearing black, lamellar armour stood guard outside the gate, flanking the entrance to Hashodi even though the heavy iron grate was raised. Movement in the shadows behind the guards suggested the presence of more pikemen, watching from within the barbican. When Lhara dared to peer up through the trees, her new eye-glasses also allowed her to spot spear tips on the walls; unlike branches, their rigid points did not bend and wave with the wind.

"So far, not a very welcoming first impression," murmured Jath beside Lhara. She squeezed his hand nervously.

"Let me handle the talking," said Reyson.

For once, Yidu did not offer any protests or quippy remarks. Jath, however, did.

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to have the social contact in Hashodi?"

Reyon barely so much as shortened his stride. "Alright, fine. Let Jath and I handle the talking, then."

As they walked up to the open gate, the two pikemen were ready for them. Leaving their previous stations on either side of the entrance, the pair instead planted themselves squarely in the middle of the road.

"What business brings you to Hashodi, travelers?" asked the guard on the right.

Although the sides of her helmet flared forward to frame her face – almost reminiscent of wings, or perhaps jaws – they could still easily see the guard's expression. Not that it gave them any clues; the guard was as collected and composed as a marble bust as she studied their group.

"Answering an invitation for a social call," Reyon replied. "Our destination is the household of a lord by the name of Zhaiden. Unfortunately, we weren't able to write ahead, so it's uncertain whether he'll be expecting our arrival today or not."

Jath spoke, and Lhara almost gave a start to hear him slide straight back into the polished Vaelonese accent which she hadn't even noticed had been gradually fading from his voice. "If confirmation is necessary, I would very much appreciate if you would inform Lord Zhaiden that Jatheryn Saurivic is here to see him. Tell him that I would be pleased to take him up on the invite which he extended over dinner some years back. Please do offer my apologies as well, both for my sudden arrival, and for accepting his invitation so belatedly."

The pikemen's attention was no longer on Jath though. Instead, the two of them were openly studying Yidu. Yidu bravely stared right back, arms folded, lips pressed into a flat, resolute line.

"Your party is not arriving direct from Vaelona, I take it?" asked the second guard.

"No, from Blue Stone," answered Reyson.

Exchanging a look, the two guards communicated something between themselves without words. One thumped the butt of their spear on the ground. Whatever their meaning, the additional guards inside the gate apparently got the message. Lhara's heart leapt into her throat as suddenly they went from confronting two armored pikemen...to six.

"Do you still wish to enter Hashodi?" asked the lead guard, after giving the travelers a moment to consider the half-dozen spears now encircling them.

Jath and Reyson exchanged a look. When Jath nodded, Reyson sighed and squared off with the lead guard.

"We do."

"Then in that case, you must follow us."

The pikeman formed up into a tight box around their little group, more or less obliging them to go wherever they were led. As they passed under the gate and through the barbican, Lhara drew closer to Yidu. It was after noticing her presence that the guards had apparently decided they were not to be trusted. Lhara hadn't liked how Yidu had been singled out in Blue Stone, and she liked it even less now. She whispered as much to Yidu under cover of the shadowed tunnel.

Yidu shrugged half-heartedly and whispered back. "As far as everyone north of Falerik is concerned, a southerner and a Factionist are the same thing, I guess."

"Where do you think they're taking us?"

"I dunno. I mean, it's not like they're wrong-"

"Stop whispering," interrupted Reyson.

When they emerged out into the streets of Hashodi, Lhara would have been too busy staring to whisper anyways. Seeing Falerik, Utunma, and Blue Stone for the first time had utterly amazed the unworldly young shepherdess. Hashodi inspired the same thrill of discovery all over again...and then some.

Up close, the city was indeed built mostly from grey granite. Veins of black, white, and even silver minerals swirled from block to block like silt in a stream, confusing the eye and making the buildings shimmer in the afternoon sunlight. Rather than the simple, straight-edge thatch trim used in Trosk, the rooftops of Hashodi rounded and curled like the leaves of ferns, unfurling. From the tip of each angled corner hung a tall column of windchimes; silver flutes spinning and singing softly to passersby.

The wonder didn't stop at the ground. The streets of Hashodi were paved in wide, enormous dark stones which interlocked, not at square angles like in Blue Stone, but in alternating triangles and hexagons. A person could dizzy themselves trying to both walk and study the pattern, which Lhara did after less than a single city block.

Lhara was so absorbed in Hashodi itself that she almost missed noticing the handful of people whom they passed. A woman's tiny gasp caught her attention though. Her high, smooth features were pale – unexpected after having known Sonak and his twins - but her eyes, brows, and neatly coifed hair were just as distinctly blue-black. She and a man beside her, both with baskets hanging over their backs, were dressed in long, cross-collared shirts over soft, formless pants. Both also wore long cloaks, loosely tied down the front, with long slits at each shoulder through which to reach their arms. The couple watched, apparently startled, as the armed escort led Lhara and the others deeper into Hashodi.

"I thought Konnah and the others were also northerners?" Yidu whispered to Lhara.

"Me too, but they don't look very much like the people here."

Reyson cleared his throat ominously.

Although he remained in-step with Reyson at the front, Jath dared to glance back quickly and explain. "Sonak's family are far northerners, from the shores of Paledir's Bay at Goran's uppermost tip. Not quite the same as the people of Hashodi and Kotan...quite different in many regards, actually."

A stealthy elbow from Reyson stole Jath's attention back to the front, and just in time too; their escort appeared to have reached the intended destination. They stood before a wide stone building, set against the city wall and far less artistically designed than most of the area closer to the gate.

"I suspect we may not be getting a guided tour straight to Zhaiden's home after all," observed Jath dryly.

Sure enough, it was to no one's surprise and everyone's dismay when the pikemen led them inside to reveal what appeared to be a sort of barracks or guardhouse. Other city guards – similarly dressed plated lamellar armour – glanced up curiously at their arrival. There was no stopping for introductions however. The four of them were led straight to the back of the building, where they were ushered into a room with only one door and a barred skylight instead of windows.

"Send for Lord Zhaiden! Tell him that Jatheryn Saurivic is here and waiting!" called out Jath before the bolt slid shut behind them.

"Well," said Yidu, flopping down onto the room's only chair. "Did that all go just as planned, O great and grumpy leader?"

"Shush, you." Reyson was already studying the skylight. "Lhara, come here. I'll wager that you could reach that, standing on my shoulders."

Lhara squinted up at the bars through the dirty lenses of her eye-glasses. "Sure, but what would I do up there? There's barely enough room for a child to fit through that opening, and no latch in sight."

"Well at least have a look, before you jump ahead and call it no use. Jath, you help her up."

Jath, however, seemed more inclined to follow Yidu's lead at the present. He leaned back against the wall of their cell and folded his arms.

"Calm yourself, Reyson. The entire point of our coming here was to see if the north could be swayed to help in the fight against Mahir, right? So, we're going to have to speak our truth to someone in a position of authority sooner rather than later regardless. We may as well bide our time and gather our wits; I highly doubt we'll be left alone for long before someone comes to sort us out. After all, given the current political climate, an Undorian in Hashodi may as well be a walking manifesto."

"Thanks," grumbled Yidu sourly. Lhara shot Jath a look as well, which he immediately acknowledged with an apologetic wince.

"Jath's right though," said Lhara. Picking a spot along the wall, she slid downward, folding her legs beneath her until she was seated on the cool stone floor. "The whole city probably knows we're here by now, so we may as well sit tight."

For a moment, Reyson stood staring up at the skylight, jaw muscles clenched and working. Then, with a huff, he threw up his hands and joined them against the wall.

"Jath, you had best hope that you made a lasting good impression on this Zhaiden. Otherwise, we're going to be giving our rallying speeches from inside prison cells from here on out."

"He'll remember me," replied Jath. Only Lhara heard his added murmur "-I hope."

OoOoO

Unfortunately, Jath's predictions turned out to be wrong. The sun had long since set, and whiling away the hours in a cell scarcely bigger than a wagon bed was growing increasingly difficult.

"-but when the lemur realized that the sparrow and butterfly were no longer on her shoulders, she...she...arghhh! Lhara, I can't remember any more!"

"Aw no! Keep trying, Yidu! I know you remember what came next!"

Jath laced his fingers atop one knee and chuckled, leaning back into the wall. "Don't take it too hard. Lhara has a terrifying memory when it comes to things like this. You probably still even remember everything the women of Utunma told you about their sea plants, hm?"

"Well, when they have names like 'bladderwrack'..." Lhara shrugged. "I guess that's the end of our Tale of Tales. What now?"

Reyson's eyes flickered up toward the skylight. A couple hours ago he had at least made some attempt to keep himself entertained with his charcoal and sketchbook. Now though, he was up and pacing in a corner of the room.

"We could play Lesser of Two?" suggested Yidu.

Both Lhara and Jath cocked their heads curiously. "I've never heard of that one," said Lhara. "How do you play?"

"We take turns giving each other two choices. The choices should both be something the person wouldn't want...or both something they really would want. If the person is able to pick something – a 'lesser of two evils' – then it's their turn to pose a choice to someone else. The aim of the game is to stump the person you're asking into not being able to choose. If you're stumped, you're out, and so it goes until there's only one person left."

"Hmmm," Jath hummed. "Sounds not too dissimilar from a game that children liked to play in Vaelona."

"Only just children?" asked Yidu.

Jath coughed lightly...or rather, feigned a cough. When Lhara and Yidu gave him strange looks, he went on to elaborate.

"Young men and women occasionally play it too, but it's not usually considered polite to do so, especially in mixed groups. With older players, the questions inevitably seem to trend in a rather...risqué direction."

Even in the gathering dark – their cell had only one small lantern, which hung out of reach outside the doorway – Yidu's smile flashed white and gleeful.

"That's the entire point, Jath! How else are you supposed to stump people if not with saucy topics and forbidden options? Now come on, it's not as if we have anything better to do anyways."

Reyson harrumphed noisily.

Yidu rolled her eyes and looked to Lhara. "Lhara? Are you playing?"

Well aware that this was yet another thing which probably flew in the face of Jath's straitlaced upbringing...but too intrigued to resist, Lhara nodded and scooted closer.

"I'll play. Go easy on us though, Yidu. We don't want to embarrass poor Reyson, after all."

That pulled a laugh out of both Yidu and Jath, confirming that the game did indeed have three willing players. Shifting on her hipbones, Yidu resettled herself on the stone floor before pinning an evil grin on Lhara.

"Alright then, I'll start you out easy. Which would you prefer; not to bathe for a month, or not to clean your teeth for a month?"

The grimace which contorted Lhara's face and hunched her shoulders was purely involuntary. "Uggh, both sound awful! Remind me again, what happens if a person refuses to choose?"

"They're knocked from the game, and can't answer or ask any more questions," replied Yidu.

"Well then, in that case, I prefer not to clean my teeth for a month. At least I could try to rinse my mouth every time I had a drink. Not bathing for a month sounds much harder to hide!"

"Fair enough! Now it's your turn to pose either Jath or I a question. Ordinarily you can't ask the person who just questioned you, but since we only have three players..."

Yidu trailed off in midsentence with a meaningful look in Reyson's direction. Now it was the swordsman's turn to roll his eyes. Deciding to make use of the rare opportunity afforded by the game, Lhara asked Jath something which she'd been burning to know;

"If your choices were either to one day return to live in Vaelona, or to settle elsewhere forever, which would you choose?"

A tiny frown puckered Jath's pale brow. When he tilted his head in thought, the lanternlight struck his eyes in just such a way that they gleamed like tiny moon-disks. Lhara thought she might never get tired of the marvels which her new eye-glasses were constantly allowing her to discover, especially when it came to Jath.

At length, Jath answered. "I left Vaelona because of a number of circumstances, and as far as I'm concerned, none of those circumstances have changed. If the choice is between returning permanently to Vaelona, or never seeing the place again, then I choose the road."

"Awenis would approve," said Lhara softly.

Jath met her shy glance and smiled.

Instead of the road, how would you feel about Trosk? Lhara wanted to ask. It was Jath's turn to pose the next question though. Following their impromptu order thus far, he turned to Yidu.

"Which in your mind is the lesser of two evils? To always be the youngest member of whichever company you keep, or to always be the oldest?"

"Well, I already know how it feels to be the youngest!" laughed Yidu. "You are Lhara are both at least three years older than me, nevermind Lord Grouch over there. If being the oldest means you're always in a foul mood, then I would definitely choose being the youngest!"

Despite pretending only moments ago not to be interested in the folks' game, Reyson was quick and ready with a rebuttal.

"I must have offended Madame Kiiss and the general, to have been sent on this errand with a gang of children. You try keeping this bunch on task for more than five minutes, see how cheery you're feeling!"

"Eish, you were always saying the same thing about General BlackPearl too!" declared Yidu with a flippant wave of her hand. "And see how we Factionists have grown since then? Driving the Third Company out of Utunma, reclaiming the whole of the southern jungles, even taking on military ranks and being recognized by Lord Xolani and Lady Oesu? You mark my words, Reyson, even if we don't manage to sway the north, it's only a matter of time before the general is leading Undor to march on the walls of Amenthere itself!"

"And where exactly does that leave us then?" Reyson jerked his head toward the barred door. "If the north is firmly behind Mahir, then the four of us could hardly be in a worse position. This cell may as well be the dungeons of Castle Armathain."

That notion certainly stole some of the previous levity from everyone's mood. Lhara, Yidu, and Jath glanced around at one another, considering the gravity of the risk they were taking. Lhara repeated Jath's words from earlier.

"If we escape now, we'll be acting like criminals without actually having done anything wrong. Who in Hashodi will listen to us, if we're having to run and hide in alleys, dodging city guards like a pack of robbers?"

Although she tried to speak with conviction, Lhara's voice rang slightly meek off the featureless stone walls. Yidu interrupted the growing sense of unease by turning the next question back on Jath.

"Which would you rather; spend the rest of your life blind, or the rest of your life deaf?"

Much to both Lhara and Yidu's surprise, Jath had an immediate answer.

"I'd much rather lose my sight."

"You would?" Lhara was curious. "I would have expected most people to choose the opposite. My eyes weren't even all that bad, but I still can't imagine going back to before the eye-glasses. To not be able to see at all..." She shuddered.

Jath flexed his fingers – still laced around one knee as he leaned against the cell wall – and shrugged. Although it was growing too dark to see the string calluses on his fingertips, Lhara remembered that they were there.

"In my experience, at least, the world might be a gentler place if we could only listen to one another, instead of looking. So many assumptions are based off of how we see one another. By the time a person has the chance to actually speak, chances are that it's too late; initial impressions have already been made. Besides, I enjoy music too much to ever want to spend the rest of my days without it."

For a moment, Lhara and Yidu sat in silence, considering. When she heard it put that way, Lhara could almost agree that maybe being blind wouldn't be so terrible a loss as being deaf. Almost.

"This game is turning out far more serious than usual," declared Yidu. "Jath, it's your turn to ask next, but please try and get some excitement going, yas?"

"Oh, alright then. Lhara...which would you prefer? To be-"

Sudden noise from down the darkened hallway reached their cell, stealing everyone's attention. Reyson sprang to full readiness immediately, hand closing around the hilt of his sword (which, oddly enough, had been left with him by the guards). Footsteps came echoing along the stones, accompanied by the rattling of keys.

"All of you, behind me," ordered Reyson. The other three scrambled to their feet, drawing back cautiously from the cell door.

The jaw-like silhouette of a guard's helmet came into view, cast in pale lanternlight, followed by the sound of a bolt being drawn back. The door swung inward, revealing three figures standing outside; two guards, and a stranger.

Holding the lantern aloft, the stranger stepped over the threshold and into the cell. It was a young man; a northerner, dressed similarly to the people whom Lhara had seen earlier in the street. Rather than homespun cloth though, his sleeves and belt were clearly stitched from fine satin, or some other similar, shimmering material. Thick, dark hair swished unbound atop the embroidered shoulders of his cloak, framing an oval face punctuated by a broad nose and thick, expressive brows. Although Lhara had never met Zhaiden before, she recognized him immediately from the way he immediately reached out toward Jath.

"Jatheryn! How is this possible? We heard news that you were dead!"

Stepping forward, Jath accepted Zhaiden's grip on both forearms, likewise returning the gesture. Relief was evident in his voice, even as the Vaelonese accent returned yet again in full force.

"A false report, one which I am glad to be able to refute in person. Thank you for coming, Zhaiden...we were beginning to worry that perhaps my message had not reached you."

"O but of course I would come! In fact, I left the house to come here before the messenger was even finished speaking." Leaning back a bit, Zhaiden looked Jath over from head to toe. "Well, for a reported dead man, you certainly don't look any worse for wear. Is...what of your sister, Lady Awenis? Is she...?"

Jath's smile faded. "Perhaps I ought to have said that the reports were only partially false."

"I'm sorry, Jatheryn. I know how fond you were of her. I wish our families could have had more time to spend together, before the world changed as it has."

"Well, speaking of the world and all it's changes, that may have something to do with why we're here. I wish I could tell you that this is a purely social call, but..."

Zhaiden chuckled. "I had a feeling as soon as I heard you were being held by the city guards that this might not be a usual sort of visit from Vaelonese nobility. Are these your traveling companions?"

"They are." Turning to beckon the rest of them forward, Jath made the necessary introductions. "Everyone, this is Lord Zhaiden of Hashodi. Zhaiden, this is Reyson Hollistor, formerly of Blue Stone-"

"This surprise visit just managed to become even more surprising," said Zhaiden with a raised eyebrow. "Lord Hollistor."

"Just 'Reyson' will do fine," said Reyson, but he shook Zhaiden's hand all the same.

"-Yidu BlackPearl, of Moaan."

Yidu beamed from ear-to-ear at Jath's use of her self-adopted trade name. Zhaiden's eyebrows both shot up this time, and he threw Jath a brief sideways glance before reaching for Yidu's hand.

"BlackPearl...you're not the only one to carry that name, I presume?"

Far from downplaying the connection, Yidu nodded proudly. "No, not the first or the last one to carry it either. It's a good name to have though, especially for an Undorian."

"No doubt," said Zhaiden wryly. Then he turned to Lhara. "Considering that Jatheryn has saved you for last, you must be someone quite important, Lady...?"

Lhara stuck out her hand, grabbing Zhaiden's wrist and clasping it. "No 'Lady' here. I'm Lhara Miradaughter, one of the mountainfolk of Trosk."

"Bāh! Well then, it's a pleasure to meet all of you. I've spoken to the lieutenant here, and she's agreed to release the four of you to my guardianship, so long as you remain within the bounds of my family's household. In exchange, I've given my word that there will be no trouble from anyone. Does that seem a reasonable arrangement?"

Jath nodded. "It certainly is. Thank you for putting yourself out like this for us, Zhaiden. I know arriving like this, with no word of forewarning, was asking a great deal."

"I did invite you to come and visit me in Hashodi, when the opportunity presented itself, didn't I? As far as I'm concerned at this moment, you're doing just that. Now then, the sun has long since set, and the night air is getting cool. Why don't we leave the guardhouse to the guards, and get everyone settled back at my family's home?"

"Lead on," said Jath. "As you said, we are under your guardianship now."

Lhara was only too happy to leave their cramped little cell behind. When they stepped out into the streets of Hashodi once more, she was delighted to discover that all of the many pine trees which towered over the city rooftops were decorated with tiny lanterns. Once grey stone and strange angles in the light of day, Hashodi had been transformed into a place of golden light, twinkling in answer to the stars filling the night sky above. There were even still people out and about, milling about in front of shop windows, or enjoying mugs of steaming drinks sold from travelling carts.

Little did Lhara or any of their group know that, behind the façade of a peaceful, isolated city, the capital of the north hid more carefully guarded secrets than anyone could have ever suspected.

OoOoO