“We need to get ourselves organized,” Manus declares once they’re all back in the living room.

Hagen nods in agreement, appearing to not have any reason to argue with this statement; but Jarl frowns. The priest glares down at the items the doctor brought back with him and then shakes his head, “I’ll be fine.”

“You will not.”

“How do you know this?” Jarl challenges, fed up. He wants his brother back and sees no reason he can’t go alone: he knows where his brother is, he has the super powers to get there and save him, and now he actually knows how to properly take care of those powers. What’s the problem?

“The Elders told me.”

Jarl groans. Meanwhile, Áesta raises a brow, intrigued. “T’e ol’ gobshites?”

Manus snorts, “Yes, yes: the old imbeciles.”

“Hm…” The daemon settles down on a couch—the one Jarl almost fell into while arguing with the magician—and gets comfortable with the map the priest received from Hagen (Although… how’d Áesta get it from Jarl?). “And hwat, exactly, did t’ey say?”

“A mortal bound by phlegm and bile will seek an answer from those most vile and bring a plague unto all mindkind.”

“What on earth is that?” Jarl asks, ignoring Hagen’s perturbed look. He ignores, as well, the chill that just went down his back and the worry that just doubled in his heart: Jasey is not at all vile, never mind most, and can’t possibly be… then again, he is a mortal, bound by phlegm and bile, who would ask daemons anything… the overly trusting sweetheart. “They think Jasey’s going to unleash a plague???”

“Told ye t’ey’re gobshites.”

Manus whacks Áesta with a small couch cushion, “Shh!” He then immediately turns serious, “I don’t know. It’s possible that they’re talking about whomever kidnapped him; but that makes even less sense.”

“Z’at vould ‘ave to mean z’ey are trying to get a daemon to give z’em somez’ing in exchange for Jasey, ja?” Hagen asks, brows furrowed; he’s clearly confused—as are the rest of them.

“Prophecies never make much sense beforehand,” Manus agrees with a nod. He glances at Áesta, briefly, and the two seem to have a short and silent conversation. Jarl frowns, not liking this; but Hagen ignores it. “Which is why one must think ahead of their time.”

“You are suggesting using Áesta as, vhat? Bait?”

“Well, t’ank ye fer rememberin’ me name~” the daemon chuckles. “An’ yea; t’at’s exactly hwat ‘e’s sayin’!”

Jarl splutters, “And you’re okay with this‽” not understanding the sudden tripling of worry inside himself.

Áesta smirks, pine needle teeth suddenly flashing between soft lips, “Ah’course! Ah’m gettin’ anot’er meal!” The tiny daemon laughs, “An’ even if Ah weren’t: hwat daemon wouldn’t want ta unleash a plague on man?”

The priest scowls, worry depleting, “You really are vile…”

The green bean only grins, “Vilely cute!”

(Manus coos at them, “O, you two are adorable!!!” which earns him a pillow to the face [still taking so much abuse…] by Jarl.)

~

“You are certain you are comfortable with this?”

Áesta glances up from his spot on the couch, calm but surprised. Jarl towers over him and the tiny form Manus crafted for him, thick brows furrowed and slightly untrimmed goatee ruffled along with his mustache. It’s a nice look on him, the little daemon decides, amused and just a tiny bit hungry. “hWy wouldn’t Ah be?”

“You’re going through a lot of trouble for no reason.”

The green bean laughs and shakes his head, “Yer not payin’ attention: ye brought me ‘ere fer super powers; all t’is talk about rescuin’ Jasey? T’at wasn’t part o’ our original deal.”

“But that’s exactly what I mean…” Jarl speaks, confused as to why they seem to be on two different pages.

Áesta simply nods, “Yer not realizing ye have ta pay me double, now.” He giggles as the priest pales.

“I-I…”

“O, it’s fine!” the little daemon smirks, orange carnelians ringed in chrysoprase green scintillating with glee; “Ah can be t’at cute!”