Zhi arrives late for breakfast as the ladies are already engaged in the activity of finishing the last of the food on their plates.
"Sorry, not feeling my best this morning," she says by way of explanation.
At an off-hand casual remark from Sara, Zhi turns pink and mumbles a quiet response before focusing on the food in front of her.
Sara.
Zhi only finishes a small portion of her breakfast before pushing it away. Her hand moves to cover her mouth and she sits quiet for a moment.
As the ladies are leaving the table, she speaks up, "Hey, Zil? Do you have some time to ... to talk? Just the two of us?" Her eyes flick for a moment towards her wife and then back to the priestess. "It's about baby stuff."
Melodie continues to react normally, shooting her wife a brief concerned glance. "You know I'm interested in baby stuff as well, sweetheart?" She says, perhaps a little too calmly. "But that's ok. I'll be around when you're done."
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"I'm having dreams, Zil. Dreams that I shouldn't be having," she begins without any preamble. "And I need to stop having them. Yes, I know they're just dreams, but ... "
She takes a deep breath.
"They're really vivid. And they're ... they're sexual." She shakes her head. "That doesn't even come close to how powerful they feel. I woke up to an orgasm twice last night. Twice!" She wraps her arms around her chest and hugs them to herself. Zil can't help but notice the slight enlargement in that area.
"What's wrong with that, you ask?" Zhi questions, her voice beginning to stress. "Mel's not in them, Zil. It's me and ... and Sara."
Her eyes close in embarrassment. "I don't want to dream about Sara, Zil; I want to dream about Mel. She's my wife. I love her. If she knew what I was dreaming about ..."
She rises from the chair to pace the room.
"Sure, Sara's beautiful and she's strong. And our times in bed were incredible. Arrggghh!" She cries out and puts her fists to her face. "I shouldn't even be thinking about her!" The woman collapses into the chair again. "What's wrong with me, Zil?"
"Of course," says Zileska soothingly. She tips her head to Mel and says, "Don't worry, while counseling requires confidence, I won't hide anything hurtful. I'm sure if this requires everyone's cooperation we can come together for that."
~~~~~~~~~~
Zileska invites Zhi gladly into her chamber and takes her customary seat, crossing her legs and assuming her counseling position. She listens as Zhi blurts out her shameful thoughts. She listens carefully, cocks her head, twists her braid a bit and organizes her response, then says slowly, "In my profession I have known a few people who were... victims of sexual violence." She holds up a hand and says, "Please bear with me, I promise that this has an important point."
"I have in the past counseled a young woman who was... forcibly violated. She had very confused feelings not just because of the trauma and the grief and the physical pain... but because she had an orgasm during the experience. She was ashamed and terrified. What did it mean? Did she want it? Was it her fault?"
"Of course not," says the priestess firmly. "Her body responded instinctively to events, even though she did not want it and did not ask for it. It was not her fault; she couldn't control it any more than someone could control blinking while having an insect dive at their eye. It didn't mean she deserved it, it didn't mean she was a bad person, and it didn't mean that she was ruined for finding love later in life."
Zileska leans back and says, "Zhi, you're going through a great many changes right now, and your body will flood you with a lot of powerful feelings that you can't control. While you can't control those feelings, you have some control over your responses. Having lurid dreams about people you've loved before, about people with powerful personalities or great beauty, is neither in your control nor shameful. Nor should it be surprising that dreams are flitting to things that you don't have instead of concentrating on the things that you do have."
"Goddess knows I've had my share of lurid dreams," the priestess says wryly, "but I don't feel guilty over them because I don't get to set the agenda for my dreams! So that's the first thing: You don't get to decide who shows up in your dreams, and given the circumstances your body is really getting primed up on a bunch of emotions and you're going to have a lot of waves of wanting to clean and organize, wanting lots of sex, and wanting to sob nervously while eating chocolates. It'll be all right! I've helped women through this before and we're all here for you."
"Now, just like you can't control your dreams, you can't turn your emotions on and off like a switch. Knowing that this isn't your fault doesn't make you feel less guilty. But what will make you feel better is getting Mel on the same page with you. If you don't talk to her about this it will fester, she will know that something's wrong, and it'll become a bigger problem for both of you. You sure don't need that. I will be happy to help mediate - the important thing is that you need to share your feelings, so that Mel knows you're not hiding something because you did something wrong, but because you're trying to figure out how to process it. And she can help you with that." Zileska switches her legs and folds her hands into her lap, then says, "And if you just need to talk, or relax and think, or just have a friend to sit around and get your mind off things, I'm always here for that, too."
"But I don't want her to know that I'm dreaming about Sara!" Zhi counters. Her eyes close and tears begin trickling down her face. "And I'm worried that ... " A ragged breath follows. "I told her to stay out of my head because I know she ... she ... You know that people are just like an open book to her, right? She just flips open the cover and reads whatever she wants to read. I told her to stay out of my head, but if she wants, she can just waltz through my mind and see my secrets. My fears. My shame."
She looks down and her voice softens.
"Can you imagine the person you care the most about in the whole word, looking into your deepest self and seeing the worst parts of you? The parts that you would never show anyone? The horrible, ugly parts that everyone normally gets to hide. I'm afraid that some day she's going to see a part that I would never show anyone and it'll disgust her.
Her eyes shift upwards to look at Zileska.
"Other people get to hide those parts of themselves. I want to hide this part," She presses a hand against her chest. "But I don't have any secrets where she's concerned. She'll find out. She always finds out. I've told her to stay out unless I invite her in, but I know ... " She shakes her head. "I probably shouldn't have said anything. I don't know if you can actually help me. Mel is who she is and we need her to be that way to accomplish our mission." She wipes her eyes.
"Thanks for listening, I guess. I really appreciate it."
"You're asking me to either take away the dreams or change your feelings, neither of which I can do," says Zileska sternly. "Who you are is not something that I can just alter like that." She assumes a softer countenance and says, "You don't need to be ashamed but you need to recognize that Mel will eventually become aware of your guilt and she may assume it's because you did do something you regret, rather than that you dreamed something. You are in a relationship that will demand honesty, you have to be honest to yourself as well as to Melodie."
"What I can do is support you and help Mel to understand and work through this. I can't take away your feelings or dreams. I can only help you come to grips with them."
She rises from the soft chair and exits Zil's room.
She doesn't understand. Nobody understands.
~~~~
Zhi finds her wife amidst the preparations for a celebration. "Can we talk?" she asks.
She steels herself for the next part and meets her wife's beautiful eyes.
"You already knew that, though, didn't you?" she asks in a voice filled with certainty. "I need you to be honest with me. You were inside my head even after I told you to stay out." It's not a question.
Melodie seems genuinely hurt by this, tears are welling at the corners of her eyes and Zhi knows her wife well enough to see that these are genuine.
"How can you speak to me of trust when you don't trust me at all. You don't have to trust me; you just root around in my brain looking for whatever horrible part of me I don't want you to see." Her voice grows quiet and she looks down. "Parts of me that I'm ashamed of."
"That's why I didn't tell you, Mel. I was ashamed. I didn't want you to think ... But it doesn't matter. You just brushed aside my will as if it didn't matter and in the end it doesn't." She shakes her head.
"I feel just as violated as when Papa Sweets ... " She shakes her head. "No that's not true. It's not the same. It's worse. He didn't profess to care about me and I never told him 'No'."
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair. But that's how it feels," she says. The small woman steps forward and takes Melodie's hands in hers.
"I love you, Mel. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I have to have the sanctity of my own mind. Do you understand? Please tell me you understand. I have to have the privacy of my own thoughts. If you can't respect that then you don't respect me. It's that simple."
It's some time before Zhi realises that her wedding ring has gone too...
{"I'm sorry, Love, that wasn't fair. I just wanted you to understand how I felt. Please don't leave.}"
Her tears begin to fall in earnest. She leaves the room and wanders the manor. Not sure what she's looking for, but unable to stay in one place.
When she finally notices her ring is missing she wraps her arms around herself and secludes herself in the nursery. She curls up in one of the soft chairs and pulls a pink blanket over herself.
{"I won't. I'm not."} Comes back through their connection as Zhi curls herself up into the chair.
Despite the reassurance its still another six hours or so before Melodie reappears. She simply steps out of mid-air into the bedroom and then goes looking for her wife.
"I'm sorry." She says without preamble the moment she finds Zhi, "You were right - it was horrible of me and I shouldn't ever have done it." She opens her palm and Zhi's wedding ring floats gently back to her - the band is now thicker and composed largely of heavy gold with delicate engraving, almost as though a second ring has been fused to the first.
"I'm not a very good girlfriend." Melodie says with a slightly twisted smile. "I got angry and then went out and spent twelve thousand gold pieces on you. I probably should have broken a vase or something first..."
Her smile drops. "I really am sorry. It won't happen again - I've had your ring improved - from now on, as long as you wear it, no-one can read your mind, or try to detect your aura. You'll have your privacy. If you still want to wear it..."
She goes to put the ring back on her finger, but pauses. She purposely puts her hands to her sides and closes her eyes.
"Go ahead. I want you to this time."
She opens her eyes hesitantly, waiting for her wife's reaction. She then slips the ring on her finger.
~~~~~
Sometime in the pre-dawn hours, Melodie is awakened by the sensation of her wife pressing up against her and a wetness pressing against her thigh.
"I want you," Zhi whispers to her. "Make love to me."
-----------------
"Gladly." Melodie replies, leaning over to kiss her wife, and the two of them set to repairing their relationship in the dark of the night.
Somewhere in the household, Zil sniffs the air, then mutters, "I smell hormones."
"I have some good news amidst all of this," Zileska says to Sara one night during the travel. "My connection to Calistria has deepened... I could perform the magic to remove your mark any time now, without need of the incense. If you want it gone - if you want it to no longer be a reminder of who you were, but wipe that slate and reject that heritage in favor of who you've become - we can make that happen."
After much deliberation, Sara assents. "I don't want to be weighed down by my past. I want to be proud of it, uplifted by it. This mark, it informs me, and I am not ashamed of it. It brought me directly here to where I am today. But everytime I move my wrist, I feel them cutting into it. It is a constant and unwavering reminder of the time in my life when I felt the least human. I have tried to pretend it is a strength, a way for me to control or manipulate what people think of me, but to be free of it," she blows her nose ungracefully into a handkerchief, "and to be who I am now. I would thank you, Zileska, if you would be kind enough to remove this stain from my flesh."
Sara spends the next month constantly in and out of the house, visiting Lucretzia in Lotheedar and Malphene in Oppara or arranging for them to spend nights and weekends with her in Stachys; she even follows through on her word and finds time to take Lady Paril to the opera house (Sara reports that the Grand Banker is a fantastic kisser, but a bit of a bore and a capitalist to boot). She rehomes the rescued hag cats, giving one each to both of her girlfriends (after first discussing it, of course), and leaves one to run around the house, chasing the fairies ("that one is Snippsen Snails, said so on the collar. She's my favorite."). Nothing in her life seems neglected. Her birds get daily exercise and care, and she rallies a rent strike in the Narrows, as well as another protest out in front of the Senate.
But having grown used to Sara, the ladies can tell that in all her excitement and fervor, she is avoiding something. She's been distant for some time now, constantly distracted or off thinking, drinking less often but heavier.
Awake early one morning, she is the first to arrive at the table for breakfast. With a pounding headache, she sits down and unfolds a well creased and damaged letter. It had arrived months ago, when her protest movement reached its zenith. A promise of help and funding from a far off patron, a so-called "true patriot" who saw the plight of the Unbearded and wished to pay reparations for centuries of their family's exploitation of their labor and resources. They volunteered knowledge, resources, and promised to pay for various magical necessities. She only needed to write back, deliver the message to the provided address.
She had yet to write anything.
Her mystery patron (identified in the letter only as T. W. R..) was offering a lot of boons that could greatly benefit her and the movement. But it did not sit well with Sara. She didn't need the helping hand of a sympathetic noble. Offering gold and services instead of their voice and presence. It was the same as doing nothing at all!
After months of deliberation, she had finally decided to put the matter behind her. And yet, here she was. Reconsidering.
For the patron had sent another letter.
After rereading their first letter twice more, she folds it up and tucks it under her mug with a disgusted grunt.
The second letter sits before her, unopened, taunting her, tempting her. She slides a long, black nail under the wax seal, and pulls it open gingerly, as though afraid it will catch fire.
I am most distressed you have not responded to my first letter. To reiterate, your words have chastised me, and I am wracked with the guilt of my crimes and those of my forebears. Let me pay my debt, first to you and then my nation.
I am a wise and learned wizard, well connected throughout Taldor. If you accept my sponsorship, I can lend you the weight of my name behind yours. You will be provided for wherever you should go. I can provide an allowance for magic items, should you need or want them. This benefits us both, I promise you.
But you received my last letter. None of this is new to you, and if it did not tempt you then, it will not now. I must try a new tactic.
I have had the privilege of hearing you speak, Sara Burke. You have a commanding presence and an intelligent mind. I respect you and see in you a promising and bright young person; it is my wish to help cultivate and shape your path. If you accept me, I can help guide and teach you.
I am told you have some skill with basic enchantments, charming others, placing suggestions in their minds. I will gladly teach you how to command this, grow better, become powerful. Write back to me, and we may arrange a time and place to meet in the future.
Yours,
T. W. R.
Sara sits there, stunned. Folding the letter, she thrusts both hands in front of her and examines them, curiously. She had seen so much magic in the last year. Melodie, finding hers in her voice, Zhi, finding hers in her blood. Zileska had always known and been able to call upon her goddess to support them, and even Maria had her alchemy. Was there really magic in these hands?
Her hands were long and bony. The nails on one hand gleam, neatly polished and manicured, sharpened to a deadly fine point. The others shine just as brightly, though their points are filed short, smooth and rounded out. She had used magic before, yes. Both of the magic rings she wore had blessed her in the past. She was well aware of the power in her voice afforded to her by the Envoy Ring and dreaded parting with it for even a moment, and each morning, she pricked her thumb on the point of her other ring, a dull gray and deathly-sharp spike. It held within it her own blood and breath, and she could call upon its help in moments. She had done that when calling out Pythareus before his men.
And then there was the Standard of Conquest, the flag that had become a symbol for her cause and for her as well. With that strapped to her back, she could fly, and gift that flight to others.
And that was it really. There were her tattoos, but she wasn't convinced they didn't give her anything she already lacked. TWR was wrong. She had never cast anything, and had none of this supposed talent for enchantments.
Although once, when she twisted the Envoy Ring at that diner in Yanmass, she felt a strange power behind her voice, and the host had accused her of trying to charm him. She had believed he simply saw through her words and grew aggressive, hostile, but perhaps he did truly mean enchantment.
She crumples the letter and writes a response. It is short, curt.
All it says is, When can I meet you?
After the previous discussion, Zileska calls on Sara for lunch the next day.
”We’re ready,” she says, bringing Sara once more into her heady, incense-scented boudoir. Eerie red magical light suffuses the room and a sense of... whimsy? Fickleness? descends upon the chamber.
Zileska wears her floor-length ceremonial robe and corset, in her role as a divine intercession of a particular set of skills.
She sits in one chair across from Sara and gestures for the warrior to take the facing seat. Then she extends her thin hand in expectation of receiving Sara’s. Slowly she works free the glove and bears the burned scars. Holding Sara’s hand as if preparing a manicure, she turns it this way and that, then brings the wounded appendage to her cheeks. She runs it gently across her face, and whispers, ”We pay a price for our demands... but in the end, blessed are those who get what they want.”
”No more beholden to others, but only to yourself.”
She licks Sara’s hand and as she does so, the flesh seems to throb painfully, then itch, then the burned and scarred remains flake away as if disintegrating, leaving behind soft flesh that flexes and feels once more.
With a breathy sigh she draws the once-maimed hand across her face again and then holds it close to her throat, where Sara can feel her pulse.
”All that you desire is within your grasp.”
For a moment Sara has a pair of unsettling feelings - one, of just how simply she could squeeze and Zileska’s life is in her hand, now strong and whole once more; but also that this simple act is perhaps the closest she has come to the touch of the divine. It’s as if, for a bare moment, Calistria herself is in Sara’s palm, asking, what do you really want?
During the downtime, Zileska tracks down Zhi at one point, bringing along a small vase of fragrant flowers.
"I thought the pleasant scent might be nice, given that your sense of smell may be more heightened for a time," says the priestess.
"I have made a few inquiries and pulled a few strings and engaged the services of a rather... specialized nursemaid. Her name is Marcia. She has a somewhat... storied past, having been committed by her family to serve as a nun in a convent to Abadar, then trained as a warrior-maiden, but Life struck and she was exiled from her order... along with her resulting infant. She is in need of employment and refuge, and nicely fits our upcoming need for a reliable wet-nurse with certain skills."
"I hope I have not overstepped my bounds in bringing this up?" Zileska says hopefully.
"I thought the pleasant scent might be nice, given that your sense of smell may be more heightened for a time," says the priestess.
Zhi chuckles a bit. "I don't know if 'heightened' is the word I'd use. I had to go down the Wolf yesterday and as soon as I smelled the ale, it was a race to get out the back door in time to lose my lunch all over the ground. Some things are just ... 'Nope'."
... "I hope I have not overstepped my bounds in bringing this up?" Zileska says hopefully.
It takes a moment or two for Zhi to process what Zileska suggests. Zhi finally glances down at herself and then looks back up at the half-elven woman. "Yes, of course. That's something we're going to need. Thank you, Zil. You're a good friend."
She then turns and walks off.
"Stupid!" she manages between hiccups. "I'm stupid! I should have known I can't do this! Even Zil can see it." She gestures down at her chest. "I can't feed a baby with these. I couldn't keep a mouse alive with what I have. How am I supposed to feed a baby?"
"Well I like them just as they are!" She says with a smile. "You know I think you're perfect. And they'll get larger as the pregnancy progresses - you still early on right now. You're barely showing much! Although you're certainly brooding enough!"
She drops a kiss on her wife's ear to take away any sting in the words.
Melodie has been investing some of the domovoi's time and ingenuity into a new bathroom, excavated from the cellar beneath the tower. It now boasts one large pool and two smaller 'cosy' ones, as well Bartelby's contribution - a decanter of endless water that pours hot water, and another that pours cold - allowing for fine tuning of bath temperature!
Zileska look somewhat relieved before Zhi turns to continue on her way.
"Oh, good," she says. "Since we are always so busy with affairs of state and dangerous intrigues, it seemed important to have help who could watch the baby while we're busy - and Marci has the advantage of being quite skilled in unarmed defense. Thus, no worries about keeping weapons or hazardous magic around, but the baby will be very well-guarded at all times."
Cracking a smile, the half-elf says, "Having helped raise a few children myself, I can say definitively that the more hands you have to assist, the better."
"Also, I was thinking of having a set of enchanted rings made so that you can always check up on your little one even if your away, would that be helpful?"
Zhi's appetite seems unusually high this morning, but as she's reaching for another biscuit she notices the unmarred skin on the back of Sara's hand.
"Your brand," she fumbles out, dropping the biscuit onto the table. "I mean ... it's gone!"
When it's explained to her why and how it was removed, she jumps from her seat to move around the table to wrap her arms around her friend.
"I'm so happy for you," she whispers into Sara's ear.
She smells wonderful. Just like ...
The rogue releases her with a surprising suddenness and gives a quick glance towards her wife before turning back to Sara. "I know it's something that will help you leave the parts of your past behind you that ..." Zhi trails off and looks around nervously. "That you want to leave behind," she finishes lamely. She returns to her seat with a red face and her arms crossed over her chest.
Melodie sits on the other side of the table and ignores the incident, apparently focused on her eggs. It would take a sharp eye indeed to read the tension in her shoulders and the way she glances between Zhi and Sara occasionally from under lowered lashes.
Sara blushes at the sudden attention. "It's not a very big deal," she insists, entirely unconvincing. She playfully swats Zhi's hand away and continues. "I just wanted to be able to, well, not have it any more I suppose."
She leans into Zhi's hug, offering and accepting their first real moment of physical love, support and intimacy in months. She missed this woman, her love and friendship. She had been a terrible friend, and she owed Zhi more fhan this. She had never even congratulated her on the baby.
About a week after returning from Zimar, Eutropia asks you to accompany her to Oppara to bear witness to the carrying out of her father's sentence. Thousands have packed into Imperial Square, braving the autumn rain to jeer and hurl rotten fruit at the disgraced Grand Prince Stavian III as Lion Blade agents lead him up the steps off the scaffolding, where a hulking Ulfen man awaits with a gleaming greataxe.
Kathann Zalar fixes the former prince with a stern gaze. "Stavian III. You have been found guilty of high treason against the great empire of Taldor. Your actions have done irrevocable harm to her people. The punishment is death. May the gods have mercy on your soul."
Stavian's defiant screams and imprecations are drowned about by the roar of the crowd, calling for blood. The Lion Blades force him down to his knees as the executioner adjusts his stance. Tears well in Eutropia's eyes, but she forces herself to watch. As heavy raindrops pelt the ground, the headsman raises his axe. He brings it down in a swift, powerful chop--
--and thus passes Grand Prince Stavian III, former emperor of Taldor.
***
The War for the Crown has intensified once more. Pythareus's damning evidence against the Stavian bloodline has tainted Eutropia's bid for the throne, and dozens of nobles have scrambled to take advantage of the chaos by staking their own claims. A few more weeks pass as Martella Lotheed consults with sages and scribes to try to discover the best course of action to salvage the princess's campaign. Eventually, she summons you to the Palace of Birdsong.
Upon ascending the stairs toward Eutropia's office, you spy a lean young man lost in a book and chomping absentmindedly at an apple. He doesn't seem to notice anyone approach for several seconds, before finally sitting up with a start. He sets the book aside—choking down a mouthful of fruit—and jumps to his feet, wiping a hand on his trousers before offering it warmly.
"I remember you, don't I? You're my sister's friends?" His eyes light up after a few moments of awkward staring. "No! No, I do remember you! You were the ones who saved me in Yanmass! I'm so sorry for the trouble I must've caused you! I'm not sure we've formally met. I am Prince Carrius II, second born of Stavian III. Brother to the Grand Princess Eutropia...
"Heh. That's a bit awkward to say, isn't it? I'm still used to just thinking of her as Eutie, my annoying elder sister.
"But yes. Thank you for rescuing me."
"You're welcome!" Melodie replies, taking the young man's hand in her own. "I'm glad to see you so well recovered. Time has worked wonders it seems. Although my Prince, if you will forgive a question..." She pauses a moment for assent before continuing. "Do you not seek the throne for yourself? I don't think my brother would be as understanding as you are."
Carrius shrugs. "I didn't really want the crown even before I died. Dad and I used to argue about it a lot. But I think Eutropia's made good and grown up a lot since we were kids. She'll make a great empress--if this stupid War for the Crown business ever settles down."
"Well we're here to help!" Melodie replies. "Can you tell us anything else about how you came to be with us today? When we first met you you seemed... confused. Do you mind me asking if you know what caused it? The man you were with, Varrigan Pol, was it him or something else?"
"Yes, it was Pol. He had been drugging me, keeping me in a state of confusion. My mind is much clearer now. I still can't remember much about... About being dead, or how I came back. I just...followed the circle back to the beginning."
As the ladies bear witness to the Grand Prince's final justice, Melodie can't help but notice that her wife seems a little green.
Once the sentence is carried out, the rogue grasps Mel's hand tightly.
Zhi draws back a little at Carrius' mention of the circle. "What do you mean, you 'followed the circle back to the beginning'?" she asks, suspicion filling her voice.
Carrius furrows his brow. "I don't really know. When I try to concentrate on it, everything gets foggy. I wish I could tell you more, but I just remember a circle... And I followed it around and..." The prince shrugs helplessly.
Melodie at once throws her own mighty willpower behind her wife, concentrating mightily on ensuring that Zhi is not sick.
"How odd." Melodie says lightly, her turmoil not showing behind her eyes. "Well, now that you're back in the land of the living what do you plan to do with your time?"
"I've been doing a lot of reading, but it's kind of boring. I want to get out and see the world, but Eutie says it's not safe to do so yet." Carrius's expression brightens. "You're all great adventurers, aren't you? I'm sure you've got all sorts of exciting stories to tell! I'd love to hear some of them!"
"Well!" Melodie replies, with a smile, "Anything to oblige a prince."
She takes a seat, gesturing for Carrius to come and sit near her. Then she begins to tell her story. As she proceeds it becomes clear that Melodie's voice isn't just good for singing - the tale she weaves, one of dashing heroes fighting an evil cult obsessed with taking over an old and noble kingdom, is exciting and evocative. The villain, a sinister schemer with a limp and an accent remarkable like Earl Merkandor, practically whispers over the listeners shoulders and the heroine - an intrepid thief from far off lands, with raven black hair and a rapier wit - trades bards with him as their climactic duel across an abandoned amphitheatre takes place under the watching eye of a psychopomp - determined to claim the villain's soul after his unnaturally long life.
As the villain is finally defeated he laughs that the thief will "Never stop my plans, for the throne itself is mine!" and as the psychopomp swoops in his body crumbles to dust! Exploring the ruins she finds a shocking sight - the Duke's daughter, tied upon an alter with a shimmering spirit attempting to possess her! Fortunately the hero thief calls upon reserves of magic she never knew she had and banishes the spirit - saving the young girl and the kingdom from the villains rebirth!
When Mel sits down to tell the Prince a story, Zhi frowns a little. They did have an appointment to keep, after all. But once the woman begins, she's enthralled.
Once she finishes, Zhi leans over. "You're going to have permanent bed-time story duty," she whispers with a grin and a pat on her belly. "But we really need to be on our way."
"Carrius dear, it's so good to see you up and about and feeling better," says Zileska.
She sits down for Melodie's story and watches with some glee as the tale unfolds, quite enjoying the storytelling.
Carrius smiles at Zileska, then sits down and listens, utterly captivated by Melodie's storytelling. When the mesmerist finally finishes, he applauds enthusiastically. "Wow, that was fantastic! You certainly have a way with words, milady! I don't have any exciting stories like that..." The prince smirks. "But I do have lots of embarrassing stories about Eutie! Did you know she used to be terrified of dogs? She was bitten before I was born; still has the scar on her arm. After that she would shriek and cry at any dog."
He starts laughing. "One time—one time Countess Talbot's little lapdog got loose and chased her all over the Imperial Palace. She was so scared, she wet herself! It was hysterical!"
Carrius chuckles for a few moments before becoming more serious again. "Of course, she has a giant dog now. I guess a lot changed while I was gone. She said losing me made her grow up a lot; she didn't want other people to hurt like that when they didn't need to."
As the conversation reaches a lull, Martella Lotheed clears her throat at the top of the stairs. "Ladies? Are you ready for our meeting?"
Carrius looks chagrined. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to keep you from your business so long. It was great talking to you, though. Maybe you'll come back and tell me some more stories later?"
"I'd be delighted Carrius." Melodie replies with a smile, mentally filing the stories about Eutropia away for further use. She follows Martella and once Carrius is out of sight asks the spymistress quietly. "Have you learned anything more about his resurrection? We found a book, a very strange one which seemed to suggest... well, I don't really know, but it was about rituals and famous spirits being conjured and I wondered if they might be linked."
"Yes," Zhi says, adding to the conversation. "The Prince mentioned 'following the circle back to the beginning.' We've run into mentions of that before." She pulls from her everpresent bag a battered spelllbook, replete with drawn circles inside and out.
"Have you come across anything else emphasizing the circle motiff?"
"The prince seems to like you," Martella comments. "He's been skittish since his return, so it's nice to see him opening up to someone besides Eutropia."
Once out of Carrius's earshot, the spymistress shakes her head. "We've been unable to make any progress on that investigation. Even with Dame Avenna's considerable abilities. It seems as if something is interfering with our attempts at divination. We'll continue to try to learn more about his return, but in the meantime, we have another task in mind for you."
She guides you into her office, where a familiar woman awaits. "You may recall my guest from the Exaltation Gala, but if not please allow me to re-introduce you to the Lady Gloriana Morilla, member in good standing of the Pathfinder Society."
Gloriana smiles. "It is my pleasure to congratulate you on your many extraordinary deeds from the last several months, but I'm afraid my visit isn't merely a polite social call. Your work deposing Maxillar Pythareus was decisive, yet he was no fool. As I'm sure you know, he had recently uncovered evidence that the entire Stavian line was born illegitimately, beginning with Stavian I two hundred years ago. Worse, their line seems descended from the long-lost Adella family, utterly reviled for their indulgence, treachery, and violence. Pythareus's closest agents held this damning information in reserve, and now that their leader is undone, they have verified and published the documents. This discredits the entire family and delegitimizes Eutropia's claim based on her parentage. Now more contenders than ever are circling like vultures. We need a decisive sign.
"Taldor takes its name from its founding emperor, Taldaris. His name is still uttered from the fields to the palaces, and although historical records of his policies are vague, that doesn't stop senators from claiming to act on his vision. In Taldor's past, the grand prince could call upon Taldaris's spirit for guidance, and it was said that Taldaris's legendary Mantle of Kings would glow when donned by the empire's rightful ruler. The First Emperor's blessing was practically sacred, and it would be equally decisive today."
"Unfortunately," Martella chimes in, "it's not as simple as it sounds."
"Indeed," Gloriana confirms. "The dubious Grand Prince Uirtamon II worried his rivals would use the mantle against him, so he had it reinterred in Taldaris's tomb, which he then ordered buried and its location scrubbed from public records. Thankfully, my Pathfinder Society agents are excellent archivists." Morilla picks up a leather folio from the seat next to her and places it on the table. "Together we have pieced together the approximate location of the Tomb of the First Emperor, as well as the rudiments of the ritual to call upon Taldaris's spirit to empower the Mantle of Kings. What we need now are capable operatives able to survey the area, locate the tomb, find the Mantle of Kings within, and contact the spirit of Taldaris to ask that he bless the garment."
"We need this—not just for Eutropia but for Taldor," Martella concludes. "If the mantle reappears and glows on her shoulders, it stands to prevent considerable bloodshed. Even if it does not select her, it will allow us a nonviolent means to identifying a worthy heir without the need for drawn blades."
Lady Morilla provides you the leather portfolio, which contains written reports from 11 different Pathfinder scholars. These trace the tomb's location to a roughly 25-square-mile area in Kazuhn with additional notes that the tomb's superstructure stood about 20 feet high (and so would form a small hill) and had an entrance facing north. The Pathfinders have pieced together significant parts of the ritual and secured a collection of aromatic oils, candles, and incense. However, the ritual is difficult to decipher because it uses extinct forms of measurement, cites ritual practices from millennia ago, references parts of the Tomb with unknown dimensions, and in some places is just incomplete with the Pathfinders' annotated best guesses.