Aestivus

. 10 .

JEREMIEL

"Vlad, I know you're concerned about Ed's safety, but one of the enchanters here almost murdered this kid. It's much safer to keep him away from the rune users who have issues with him."

The Russian guy shook his head. "I don't see how sending him off into a literal battle with a fleet also filled with rune users would help. It's like throwing that kid into shark-infested waters and calling it a solution." Rem glanced to the side, where Edward fidgeted with a stick as if he couldn't hear them. "What we need now is a chance to find out why the runes are reacting this way, on the unstable islands."

"It's not a good time to test things out there. Remember the creatures affected by shadow magic? It's getting worse. If anything goes wrong on those islands when you're testing-"

Jeremiel massaged his right thumb, slipping some of his power into his words. "I understand. But if the responses from the runes are right, it's far safer to run tests away from cities. Might even help us understand what's affecting the animals out there. I'll bring him to the less dangerous islands, so things should be in control, nothing to worry about."

Vladislav nodded after some consideration. "I'll allow this for once. But if anything happens... you know what needs to be done." "That's fine. Who else is going on the main fleet?" The city leader tapped his quill on the paper. "Your sister will escort the support ship Treska. You will be on the Stremitel with Ed and 17 other rune users."

"the Treska huh...what about the Bientôt (Bee-N-toe')? "

"That sounds like bento," Edward interjected. "Who on earth even names their ship like that?"

Vlad cleared his throat. "That would be one of the ships that bring the backup troops into battle. You, on the other hand... will not be safe if the majority of your ship members see you as a threat. Learn when to talk, child."

"Vlad, he's just a kid. Give him a chance." The leader nodded. "I will let you off this time, but there will not be seconds. This is wartime. The Queen of the Night has already burned multiple cities to the ground, and we do not wish to be the next. Will you be an ally, a guest, or another storm?"

*** ***

ANEIRIN

The poet strolled into the bar with a small slime bouncing on his shoulder.

"Heyya, bard. When 'ya coming over with a performance?" The pub owner waved at him. Aneirin shot them a glare. He used to be a royal poet, and it's beyond his range of acceptance to sing for drunk people. "Where's Dunstan? The guy with blond hair red eyes? Vlad is looking for him."

There was a crash from around the corner, Jeremiel trying to keep the drunk man upright, his brown hair plastered on his face. "Told him not to drink so much, didn't listen. swapped a few cups off for water, but... it's not quite useful." Aneirin sighed- Remiel sounded half-drunk again, which wasn't surprising for his record. "Come on, then. Don't keep the others waiting."

By the time they got there, the briefing has already begun. Most chose to sit in a semicircle around Vlad and Florence from Frindov, the only city where humans coexist with elves and other species. Rem, who was drunk, stood uncomfortably close to Aneirin and whispered:

"Before you notice a snail, it moves at quantum speed. Once you notice it, it slows down to mollusc speed." His drunk jokes were nothing close to funny.

Vladislav cleared his throat. "As some of you have noticed, the runes warn about a child currently in the city. You are not allowed to harm him in any way until Remiel finishes experimenting on him." the crowd started to murmur in disapproval. Some people turned around to look at Rem, who managed to look serious despite being drunk.

Wood splintered, as one of the rune users brought a chair down on a hooded figure. With a faint whoosh, a gleaming black spear materialized and Rem threw himself at the attacker. The room fell silent as metal clashed against metal. The other man was at disadvantage despite wielding a broadsword— the overpowering strength of a furious offence rune user cripples just about any attack.

Aneirin made his way to the center, carefully propping up the unconscious hooded figure. "Hey. Kalinka, can you hear me?" the girl gave no response, blood slowly staining her hood. At least she's still breathing, he thought to himself as he rushed her to the medic hall. The hall was two blocks away, but the trip seemed too far. He barely lifted anything being a bard, and carrying a limp person was too much for him. A hand patted him on the shoulder, and an unfamiliar passerby offered his assistance. Aneirin was too tired not to accept the aid.

"Concussion, a serious one indeed." The doctor noted. "In her condition, she shouldn't be able to escort for the time being." Aneirin massaged his temples. "Yeesh... what should I do? Her brother is damn mad."

The doc shook his head, grinding herbs into a paste with a mortar and pestle. "There ain't much I can do about it, boy. I'm nowhere near the strength of any rune user. But bring me up to speed on the conference, would ya?" "Uh, well... I missed half the conference as well. But then, do you know that new kid around here? His name clashed with yours."

The doctor paused for a few seconds, tapping a metallic index finger against the mortar. "Well, guess you'll have to call me Anthony for now." Aneirin blinked. "I thought you didn't like being called by your middle name." "It's... sort of rude to call people by their middle names for no reason, isn't it?"

Aneirin looked down at the bald girl on the hospital bed. "You know... are you worried?" "Who isn't? There's no telling when and where will they strike again..." "No, I mean the Mark of Ikardius. The... Angel of Destruction, you know who I mean."

Anthony smeared the herbal paste all over a tiny slime. "You know him better than I do. Thing is, do you trust him?"