The Kindreds, Volume 1

The Eighteenth, Pt. 2

One of the men across from him, with skin the color of burnt copper, raised his cup in agreement. "That, and it seems that the only powerful Wielders being born of late are within the Elf king's walls. And if they're born in our towns, the Titian sharp-ears cart 'em away before they can do the work that really needs to be done. All we're left with are the Boonless or Wielders with a single tangle, if that. When is the last time a new house has even been built in the Border cities?" He gestured emphatically at the buildings around them. "Look at this shit, going to the Void faster than my damned knees."

While the homes were small and ugly in the Border cities, the dishevelment was not obvious upon first glance. All of the buildings stood sturdily; none had fallen down, or if they had there was no evidence of it. Yet upon closer inspection, it was obvious that all the walls were sun-bleached, and the cracks in the stone ran deep into the foundation. Tile repair was a daily chore, insulation and cooling stones were things to be laughed at, and summers killed just as often as the cold of winters.

The others grunted in agreement, all likely thinking of the repairs that needed to be done to their own homes, most of which they were powerless to do. Nearly all in the little group were Boonless, with no tangles of any type in their short hair. One of the men wore either a braid or a twist, but from Naexa's vantage, it was impossible to discern which one had been woven into the curly hair.

This one leaned in, frowning. "You mean to say none of the kingdoms of the Valley should have power? King Sichan is strange, to be sure, but he's a fair ruler. And I've gotten no trouble when visiting the other Elven cities."

"Just too-polite smiles and hesitant greetings," snorted another man. He was blue-skinned but ugly, and could only be a crossling. One half was definitely Goblish, but what was the other? Most likely Dwarven, judging by his bulbous nose.

"Oh, it's an evil to be polite now, is it?" muttered the curly-haired Wielder, but he leaned back to nurse his drink, looking dejected.

Faery-boy looked fed up with the other men already, and waved a hand as though to shoo away any words still hanging in the air.

"Nobody wishes to dethrone all of the central kingdoms, it was just an example for spirits' sake. The people are restless, that was my point. And restless people can be dangerous, if they get an idea in their heads that perhaps some of the old royalty aren't upholding their duties as well as they ought to." He shrugged, smirking. "I'm just saying."

The Wielder nodded, but still looked uncomfortable. He shouldn't be here, Naexa thought. He didn't look like the snitching type, but he would have no ear for what she had to say, if he didn't even like what the Faery spoke of. And she had no time to waste convincing those who didn't already share her beliefs. Thankfully, she was not desperate enough for that.

"Yeah, but the sharp-ears are holding on tight to their power," the crossling grunted. "'Member when the Nymphs tried to claim themselves as one of the central kingdoms? The leaf lovers practically laughed at them."

"They are, though. One of the central kingdoms, that is," said Curls.

"Yeah, but the sharp-ears don't give a damn, that's the whole point."

"The others did, though. The other kingdoms, I mean. Even Caprius's allies. Don't you remember? The heralding Pixies had even the Border abuzz with the news, talking of the Monarchs' renewed decree that the Nymphs were a central kingdom." Mr. Copper picked at something in his teeth, raising his eyebrows pointedly. "Half of us were wondering why they'd even bothered to tell us, when we didn't know there had been a debate about it in the first place. Then that half-mad Goblin—no offence, Riktus—came to tell us the tale of it, and it turned out to be kind of interesting. Don't you remember?"