Tree Keeper sat at the back of a cell. The cool stone and dank interior reminded him a little of the forest. He brushed off a brief tendril of homesickness and looked into the cell across from him. None of the other residents seemed to like it there, but Tree Keeper thought it much like a cave he’d spent several months in... minus the stench of feces and urine and sweat and dirt and... there were many unpleasant smells.

A pair of guards passed Tree Keeper. He tilted his head at them, his reflective eyes flashing as he blinked. He saw in dim light better than most creatures, and so could make out the gold buttons on their lake-blue uniforms and the curl of the older one’s mustache. Tree Keeper thought to ask them what he did wrong, but it occurred to him that he didn’t need to have done anything specific. It seemed his association with the bunny-girl and human-man were enough to make him guilty. That guard had started chaining him up even before Tree Keeper mentioned killing bandits, which he instinctively knew was frowned upon in most civilizations whether they were murderers or not.

A couple of prisoners shouted at the guards. They made threats, said words Tree Keeper interpreted as insults, and then the sound of heavy footfalls quieted them. Tree Keeper straightened at the swift change in behavior. Many found the back corner of their cell. Most faced away from the hall. Taking a cue from them, Tree Keeper bowed his head so to not challenge or agitate the alpha headed their way. Only someone feared, respected, and powerful could make a bunch of hardened wolves tuck their tails. The approach paused, and Tree Keeper twitched under the sound of jangling keys. He peeked up, and for a moment, he thought he saw the White Stag’s spirit looking down at him. His next blink erased the image, and he discovered a tall, broad-shouldered man frowning down at him. Light slid across the strands of his wheat blonde hair, his eye as blue as a crystal clear horizon set on his strong face. An eyepatch covered his right eye, while a fur-collared cape emphasized the man’s sturdy physique. His masculinity mimicked the stag’s. No wonder Tree Keeper had been confused.

“You’re fired, Sergeant,” the man said to one of the two men with him, voice low and husky.

Tree Keeper glanced at the one standing stiff under the intimidating figure's shadow. It was the one who had arrested him.

“Yes, Captain. Forgive me.” He bowed low and then led himself back the way they’d come.

Captain Fairwind stepped into the cell and looked down at Tree Keeper. “The ex-sergeant apologizes for your rude handling, Master Stag. Release him.” The soldier handling the keys for Captain Fairwind strode forward. Then, crouching, he unlocked the chains holding Tree Keeper. Tree Keeper turned his wrists and then massaged the pain from them. Unlike the other prisoners, he’d remained in the cuffs the sergeant first put him in. Tree Keeper hadn’t complained or questioned him about it, but it was a relief to be free.

“Thank you,” he said.

Captain Fairwind nodded. “Come with me.”

Tree Keeper rose and, glancing at the guard who did not look at him, followed Captain Fairwind. He wondered at those they passed. The officers and people looked wary of him now. Before, they simply regarded him as another vagabond. What changed? They stepped into the hot sunlight. Tree Keeper blinked to adjust his eyes while keeping up with the captain, who marched across the prison courtyard and out its gate. Tree Keeper stayed on his heels. He knew better than to run away from the only person who seemed inclined to aid him. They passed several buildings and people heading from one place to another. The crowded area made Tree Keeper draw in on himself. It relieved him when they left it behind and stepped into the immediate open area near a plaza, though that looked busy too. A fountain sprayed in the center of a cobblestone walkway. Lighter stones circled it, and Tree Keeper imagined some design he couldn't see from his current perspective covered the area.

Captain Fairwind led him to a towering building with gothic steeples and a woman’s figure emerging from over the door. Tree Keeper slowed under her warm gaze, and he thought the soft smile she wore widened a little upon his and Captain Fairwind’s arrival. Remembering the stern man, Tree Keeper hustled inside. A blast of colored light fell over him. He looked left and right at the stained glass windows. He'd never seen anything like it save the autumn leaves under a traveling sun.

“Captain Fairwind, I’m glad to see you’ve found your way back. Mr. Noarwin came by earlier.” An elderly man in a white, full-body tabard approached.

“He’ll find his way, I’m sure.” Captain Fairwind looked behind him at Tree Keeper. “Though his informants are only mortal, they are sufficient in providing him information. He’ll know I’ve brought the Waywin Stag.”

“The stag?” The old man’s eyes rounded, and then he scurried to bow his head to Tree Keeper. “It is an honor.”

“What is?” Tree Keeper asked after realizing the elder meant him.

The older man smiled. “Ah, this must be your first venturing away from home. How old are you?”

“Six,” Tree Keeper said.

“My. The guardians do reach maturity fast,” the old man said.

“Bishop Yandez, I will be taking the stag to my office. Send Mr. Noarwin as soon as he arrives.”

“Of course.” Yandez bowed, and Captain Fairwind sped away. Tree Keeper hurried after him. A few acknowledged the captain as he passed, but he didn’t spare them a glance. Tree Keeper felt inclined to send them a nod in his stead, but doing so made Tree Keeper dizzy, and he decided that why Captain Fairwind didn't try.

Captain Fairwind pushed open a heavy, carved-embellished door, and gestured Tree Keeper inside. He stepped through and looked in every direction. Books covered the walls. A desk stood in the center, a gold inkwell and feathered pen poised beside it in a corner. Captain Fairwind swept his cape behind him and sat in the chair behind its desk.

Tree Keeper looked down at him, and then Captain Fairwind gestured Tree Keeper to choose one of the three, smaller chairs. He picked the closest one, soft and gray, and sat.

“The Waywin Guardian is not meant to be imprisoned. Especially considering the reputation of its power. Though,” Captain Fairwind paused, “you do not strike me as the short-tempered type like your predecessor.”

“The White Stag was never... short-tempered,” Tree Keeper said, brow furrowed and head cocked in confusion. “Not that I ever saw.”

“Recorded history suggests otherwise. Though, I suppose becoming a hermit in a forest most are too scared to enter would give you little reason to be angry. He raised you?”

“Yes.”

“That is the way of it. And you having left Waywin means he has passed on.”

Tree Keeper swallowed the pain webbing in his throat under the captain's blunt analysis. “Y-yes.”

“He wouldn’t have been able to fetch me otherwise.” Captain Fairwind flipped open the book waiting for him in the center of his desk.

“Fetch you?” Tree Keeper asked.

“Yes. He told me what happened to you.”

Tree Keeper took several moments to try to interpret exactly what that meant, but he failed to comprehend. “But—how?”

“Spirits can do whatever they like,” Captain Fairwind said. He scrolled a few notes in his book, let the ink dry, and shut it. “In that way, they can be more powerful than their previous form.”

“I guess that is true,” Tree Keeper said, though the idea still weighed heavy on his heart. “Um. You have been calling me Stag or Waywin Guardian. How many titles do I bear?” What names should he answer to? Which was the one Champion Alma spoke of?

“As many as have been made up for you.”

That didn't produce any constructive fruit. Tree Keeper's shoulders drooped. Captain Fairwind was too short in speech to help one as ignorant as him. “I didn’t even know anyone regarded me as anything before today.”

“And what made you leave your forest, Stag?”

“The death of my father, the White Stag,” Tree Keeper said. Captain Fairwind studied him, and Tree Keeper felt inclined to explain more. “Fear and anger overwhelmed me when the arrow pierced him. I blacked out. The forest had consumed me, and I—killed several men. One of whom was his murderer. I awoke to a beast-bunny washing their blood off me. She and her human companion asked if I was the Tree Keeper. And then the White Stag appeared to me and... he told me I am now the stag. The title is too grand and its burden heavy. I’ve only been thinking of myself as what she called me.”

“Tree Keeper,” Captain Fairwind said.

“Yes.”

“And you came here searching for the dy’adrin and human-man,” Captain Fairwind said.

“Is that what her kind is called?” Tree Keeper asked. He was desperate to know the truth of her identity. Beast-bunny elicited a negative itch in him as he’d sensed the self-deprecation when she said it.

“It is. Beast-bunny is a derogative term not fit for their nobility.”

“I’m glad I know. I could tell it wasn’t right when she told me.”

“Then she is a moiety.”

“Moiety?” Tree Keeper couldn’t quite grasp the word despite the earth-magic aiding him in his speech.

“Half-sized. Most dy’adrin are as tall as elves, or taller. Only a few are small as gnomes or dwarves. Though not discriminated among their own, many find them alarming because of their appearance.”

“I see.” They fell silent. Tree Keeper watched Captain Fairwind, who had pulled out another book to scritch notes in. “I’m sorry. I need to find them,” Tree Keeper said at last. He couldn’t wait for whatever Captain Fairwind did or an explanation of what that was.

“I will leave that to Mr. Noarwin,” Captain Fairwind said without looking up.

“Who is Mr. Noarwin?” Tree Keeper asked.

“An information dealer that works explicitly for me. He comes across eccentric and frivolous, but he is as loyal as they come—”

“I am touched.”

Captain Fairwind's pen stopped, and Tree Keeper looked behind him. He hadn’t heard the door open when a teal man with pointed ears, short dark violet-blue hair, and orange eyes swept in. He floated behind Captain Fairwind and drew his hand across the captain’s chest to lean over his shoulder.

“You hold me in such high regard, Captain,” he cooed. Tree Keeper felt the solare's tone too intimate for his comfort and lowered his gaze. The captain effortlessly ignored him, and Mr. Noarwin looked at Tree Keeper. “So this is where I find Tree Keeper after running all over prison for him. You already scooped him up. Are you trying to make me irrelevant?”

“We both know I don’t have time to do your job for you.” Captain Fairwind set down his work. “I’m putting the stag under your care.” He rose, forcing Mr. Noarwin to step back. “I don’t want to know where you keep him.” He paused at the door and glared at Mr. Noarwin. “And I expect you to continue your work.”

Mr. Noarwin waved. “You can count on it, Captain.” He turned toward Tree Keeper when Captain Fairwind shut the door. “Now. I believe you are looking for some acquaintances of mine.”

Tree Keeper stiffened. Would this Mr. Noarwin react the same as the sergeant when he learned Tree Keeper sought aid from a dy'adrin?

“Come along," Mr. Noarwin grinned, "the little rabbit is quite worried about you.”

“Where are they?” Tree Keeper asked, his anxiety tightening and unraveling in lurches as he hoped they meant the same people.

“Where you will be staying.” Mr. Noarwin brisked past him. “Honestly.” He held open the door. “To think I intended to show off and be the hero. Arne really does like stealing the spotlight. Come along.”

Tree Keeper frowned at Mr. Noarwin, who waited for him to exit, and then he followed the elaborately fashioned man through the back of the cathedral and into its shadows.