A Bright and Shiny Life

After grabbing my thrown blades, I liquify everything and clean up, grabbing only their coins and two enchanted weapons: Briarhart's sword, which is iron-phasing; and a basic enchanted dagger of standard imperial army form. The latter is so common as to not be a risk for divinations, and the sword, while having a slightly more interesting form factor, is worth the risk.

Not that I intend to use it myself. It's too long for me, being nearly as tall as I am, and my form changing blade is simply too convenient to swap out. Still, it's more useful than the price I can get for it. Better to give it to the Mud Hares to build up their arsenal and increase their loyalty. Well, knowing Jack, it'll probably have the opposite effect somehow. It's also not exactly subtle, so maybe only if I think I can trust them to keep it in reserve. On that note, perhaps I should give them one or two of the heavy crossbows. I'll decide when I get back and see their status.

After stuffing the loot in my cloak and cleaning up, I make my way to my inn room and immediately lie down. Pain shoots up my back as it makes contact with the mattress. My damaged spine compresses under the pressure, sending shivers down my legs. My clothes drop in temperature as the cleaning enchantment works full force to rapidly clean and vaporize the sweat soaking into it from my skin.

Ser Terry had better appreciate all I'm going through for him if he ever finds out about it.

I pop berry after berry into my mouth, but to little avail. Each shaves a sliver of pain away, but even after all of them, I'm left with agony. There must be some interaction between the berry's healing magic and an injury that requires Anar's regeneration to heal. The berries seem to work by accelerating natural healing, and natural healing won't heal this sort of wound anytime soon.

The room is sparsely decorated, but I spotted a potted plant in the common room. I hobble downstairs and ask the first staff I see to bring up the pot. They give me a strange look but complies with a few raem.

After they bring it up, I plant the berry staff and cast plant growth on it. I also plant a sedative and a pain killer and cast rapid growth, immediately taking them once grown and falling asleep. I wake a little later from the pain and take more berries, then repeat the process.

I'm still in pain in the morning, but it's no longer beyond my ability to cope, so I decide to make the last leg of the trip back to the capital. I instantly regret my decision the moment Pelliphos speeds up past a walk, with every step feeling like a knife. I get off and plant another painkiller, grow and take it and get back on before it even has time to take effect.

It's not so bad. I've had worse.

I could heal much quicker with even a single sacrifice, but even ignoring the increased risk of offering so close to the capital, commoners just don't seem that appealing after tasting the bliss of a favoured soul. There's always the chance that they have some hidden factor, but the disappointment would be worse than the pain.

I'm nearly completely healed by the time I get back to Allan's manor, or at least enough that I no longer need the herb to stay upright. There's a nervous silence as I walk in, and the servants who take my luggage suggest that I stay in the entrance until they can get Allan.

I sit nervously in the antechamber until Allan comes. I give him a smile, cut short when I see his worried expression as he pulls out the silencer and activates it.

"Count Fluemhal is here," he says curtly.

"Ah… well, I guess we might as well do this now then." I try not to wince as standing sends a jolt of pain up my spine.

He looks at me concerned, instinctively reaching towards me to give support. "Are you sure? You don't look well." Because of course he sees through me.

I shake off his hand. "I'm fine. It's mostly healed."

"Healed? What's healed? Did something go wrong?" His look of concern intensifies to near franticness.

"No… everything worked out as well as could be expected. I just underestimated someone afterwards, is all."

"Afterwards? What happened afterwards?"

"Nothing important. Just loose ends." I try to move past him, but he grabs and turns me around, causing another jolt of pain.

"It doesn't look unimportant."

"Well, it was. Anyways, let's do this."

"He'll understand if we say you're not feeling well. In fact, he doesn't know you're here."

"It's best to handle it sooner. Besides, I doubt it's a coincidence that he's here the moment I've returned."

He shrugs. "A little. He requested the appointment the day after you left. I delayed it to give you time to get back, but I didn't know when you'd come. But fine, if you think it's best to do it now, I'll trust you. But there's no reason to go in without a plan. What do I need to know about him? How are you going to approach this?"

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I go quiet, realizing that he's right. I'm rushing this. But then again, what is there even to know? I suppose some basic background should suffice.

"Okay," I start, speaking quietly despite the silence zone erected by the item, "so I met Lindrid when I was leaving Caethlon. It was the last thing I did before I left, in fact. He was in charge of the operation to spark a revolt there, but the resistance crumbled right before he finalized his plans. So, he requested my help. I um… heh, lit the final spark, so to speak. The rest you know. Fluemberg revolted, he negotiated the surrender and was made a lord for brokering the peace."

Allan stares at me with a look of disbelief. "Seriously? They put the rebel who caused the revolt in charge of the place?"

I shrug. "I got the impression he had a lot of plans in place to make it happen. He probably could have sparked the revolt a lot sooner if he wasn't aiming for a title. Still, it's probably better this way… assuming he's still loyal to the cause."

"…And if he's not loyal?" he asks, tense for some reason.

I give him an utterly baffled look. "Why even ask? We kill him."

He closes his eyes in thought, rubs them and finally opens them with renewed focus. "Wouldn't it be better just to convince him that you've changed sides too?"

I scoff. "How would that work? Even if we somehow convince him we're on the same side now, there's no guarantee that he wouldn't reveal my past anyways just to gain favour at court. Assuming he has turned, the only reason why he wouldn't have revealed or tried to blackmail me yet is because I seem to have somehow gained more favour with the empress than him, and so accusing me would risk gaining her scorn. But that's sure to fade, especially if he learns that the gift was a complete surprise to me."

He sort of chews my reasoning, nodding in thought for a few moments before finally conceding. "I suppose there really would be no other option. Let's hope he's still on our side then. Any idea how to find out?"

I shrug. "I suppose we can't just ask him and have you watch his reaction?"

"…He's heavily enhanced. Probably a major boon with a focus on body control. I don't know if I can read him. Or rather, I probably can if he answers directly, but there's no reason for him not to require you to answer the same question first."

"Odd," I say, sitting back down and stroking my chin, trying to conjure up memories from all those months ago, "he didn't seem particularly enhanced when we first met. I would think that he would reduce any divine contracts after succeeding in his goal rather than increase them."

"Well, it is a rather high level, and your perception wasn't as good back then. He might have been able to hide it from you. Try to make you think you had an advantage."

I bite my lip, not liking the suggestion, but am unable to refute the possibility. "Or maybe becoming a lord under such circumstances pleased one of the deceiver gods who offered him a greater boon? That would be in keeping with him still being loyal and hiding his true allegiance from his new friends."

"Yes, but betraying the resistance for benefit might also please the same set of gods. So, it doesn't get us anywhere."

"Sigh. I suppose this means we'll be spending hours in subtle back and forth trying to wheedle out each other's current loyalties, then?"

Allan shrugs. "It might not be so bad. While his probable actions would be the same regardless of if he has turned, his emotions should at least differ. If he has turned, then he should feel confident about you. Since, at worst, you're still loyal to Caethlon, and so his footing would be secure. However, if he's still loyal, then he should be worried about if you have turned and might report him."

"And do you believe you can tell the difference with his current enhancement?" I ask.

He grimaces uncertainly. "I should at least be able to tell if any presented emotion is real, but I doubt I'd be able to penetrate his mask if he goes for blank neutrality."

"I guess that will have to do." I stand up and smooth out the wrinkles in my clothes. "Unless you have another insight? I'm sure he's wondering what's taking you so long… actually, it might help to know what he may have heard about me. Rather, what have people said about the dagger while I was gone?"

He shrugs. "Everyone's baffled. They're saying you're a complete nobody, an unknown. There are a few rumours, but nothing credible, and even the incredible ones are sparse. In fact, there are almost as many rumours about the absence of rumours as there are rumours about the event itself."

"Right… yeah, I don't see how that helps. If anything, it might make things more complicated as he might behave erratically due to listening to the wrong rumours. Any other advice you can think of?"

"Just… be confident, I guess. Maybe with an undercurrent of bafflement if we're still going with the 'wrong person' approach."

I shrug. "It probably won't work, but might as well try."

"Right, well, regardless, trying to confuse him into tipping his hand may be our best bet, and he shouldn't be expecting confidence." He doesn't look certain, but I doubt any social suggestion of his will be completely bad.

I nod. "I suppose that's as good an idea as any. Sigh. Let's just do this."

I stop in a side room to change out of my gambeson into something more sociable, then we make our way to Allan's office with a building nervous energy. Allan gives me a strange, baffled glance as we go, but suppresses it. Arriving at the closed ornate door, we both take a deep breath and school our faces before going in with confidence.

"My apologies for the absence, Lord Fluemhal," Allan says, going over to place the silencer on a side table and grab a drink, "but, as it turns out, the one you wished to speak to has returned from his journey."

"Indeed? How fortunate." Lindrid says, reposing on the couch, swirling what looks to be an untouched glass of Alan's fine brandywine. There doesn't seem to be any alcohol on his breath, so he must be holding it simply for effect. He's still as fit as before, though not bulky. Just enough muscles to strain against the elegant silk fabric with complex Caethlian style geometric patterns and Arkothan colours as a background.

I raise a questioning eyebrow. "I suppose so, Lord Fluemhal. Though, while I am pleased to more formally make your acquaintance, I must confess to being baffled as to the reason for your visit."

He chuckles. "I'm certain. Though perhaps you'd be more insightful with fewer distractions?" He glances to Allan.

I look straight at him and smile, as if not knowing what he means despite my imminent response. "I'm certain you're mistaken. I trust my cousin completely. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of him."

He nods, politely. "Very well. If that is true, then I will say that I am certain that you are lying about me mistaking your identity. As such, I will say that I am indeed still loyal to Caethlon, and still intend to work for the liberation of our homeland, be that bargaining for greater autonomy or building up my assets until it's time to rebel again. Now," he grins viciously, "does that satisfy your paranoia?"

Allan and I glance at each other with visible shock at his tipping his hand so readily. "Well," I mutter, "I suppose that simplifies things."