Jelro couldn’t bring himself to look Kestek in the eye after what had happened in the market.

The two of them had been packing food for the trip, using funds that Adif had supplied Jelro with, when they were stalled while passing a booth of a seamstress. She was a wraith, therefore extremely pale to the point she was nearly translucent, and her hair and clothes floated around her as though she were underwater.

The wraith had been busily tying bows for little girls to wear in their hair, and she was handing out matching bows to beings that were strolling by.

“Oh, you two!” she exclaimed, jumping up and drifting over to Jelro and Kestek. “Aren’t you two just the cutest thing?” She giggled as she observed the animals and began tying bows on them. “Are these your children?”

Jelro was slow in catching on, but Kestek reacted immediately.

“No, ma’am! You’re mistaken—we’re not-- That is, he’s not-- I’m not--”

“Oh, hush!” The wraith wagged her finger at Kestek and then grabbed a pair of ribbons from her booth. She handed one of the ribbons to Jelro and then turned to Kestek. “Now, hold still while he puts this in your hair!”

“I-I beg your pardon?” Jelro stammered.

“Go on!” the wraith insisted. “Your girlfriend will look so lovely with a bow in her hair, don’t you think?”

Jelro was mortified. He knew that most beings on land held different morals than Merrow did, but this?

“Oh, would you quit looking all embarrassed?” the wraith pouted. “Why don’t you show him how it’s done?” she suggested, handing the other ribbon to Kestek.

Kestek’s cheeks flushed purple. She frantically looked at Jelro.

“You two are exasperating!” the wraith cried.

Passerbyers were starting to stop and stare.

“Just tell her no,” Refi honked. “Really—what’s so hard about that?”

“Just hurry and do it!” Breek squealed at the same time. “It’s just her hair!”

Jelro winced.

Without warning, the wraith seized Jelro by the wrist and gathered Kestek’s long hair into his hands so he could tie the ribbon into it.

Jelro jumped back, snatching his hands away and staring in horror at Kestek. 

“I’m so sorry--!” he started to say.

“Jelro, it’s okay--” Kestek began to insist.

“What’s the matter with you?” the wraith snapped at Jelro. “It’s not like I’m asking you for a big show! Honestly—kids these days!” She floated off, completely irritated.

Jelro hustled Kestek away from the booth, repeating his apologies over and over again, completely disgusted at himself for allowing things to escalate to such a point.

“Jelro, it’s okay,” Kestek said, giving him a look. “I know we’ve only known each other for a day, but it’s just my hair.”

“Just your--?” Jelro fell back a step, stunned. “Kestek, how can you say that about yourself?”

“Uh... what?” Kestek frowned.

Jelro fumbled for words, stumbling over his explanation in embarrassment. 

“Jelro.” Kestek looked right at him. “Why are you talking about my hair like we’re discussing ladies’ undergarments?”

“I-- what?” A laugh escaped Jelro. “Those two things have absolutely no correlation!”

“I was trying to make a point!” Kestek protested. “It feels like you’re talking around some forbidden topic! It’s just my hair!”

“Jelro,” Refi softly crooned, “I don’t think she knows Merrow standards about hair.”

“Oh.” Jelro mentally kicked himself. “You’re probably right.”

“What did she say?” Kestek asked, glancing at Refi. “What did you say back to her?”

“Kestek,” Jelro slowly said, “I dunno how it is for sprites, but for Merrow? Hair is one of the most sacred parts of our body. It’s... it’s like...” He groped for a comparison. “Well, how about your wings?” he tried. “How would you feel if I could just look at them whenever I wanted and touch them without consent?”

A look of understanding crossed Kestek’s face.

“Oh,” she said. “Now I get it. I didn’t... I didn’t know.”

“Sorry,” Jelro apologized again. “I wasn’t trying to violate you, I swear.”

“It’s okay.” Kestek blushed. “It wasn’t your fault.”

There was a long moment of silence.

Kestek tied the ribbon she was holding into her own hair, pulling it back from her face.

Jelro handed the crumpled ribbon in his hands to her, unable to meet her gaze.

He was glad that Kestek hadn’t told the group what really had happened.

Jelro mulled over the situation as they walked. He felt like he had descended morally in a way, and now he needed to do something to balance out the wrong he had committed.

Lost in thought, he nearly tripped over Adif as she suddenly stopped walking. They had come a good distance so far, and the town was a blur in the distance.

“What’s the matter?” Shayrow asked.

“I can’t believe it,” Adif groaned. “I forgot to get a sword.”

“Do you need one that badly?” Kestek asked.

“Well, my practice sword won’t be much protection,” Adif dismally said. “The worst I can do with it is maybe break a bone if I swing it hard enough.”

“Perhaps you could use mine?” Shayrow offered.

“It’s too long for me,” Adif said, shaking her head. “I won’t be able to balance it right.”

“Will this one work?” Luss held out a sheathed sword after casually pulling it out from his cloak.

Everyone stared at him.

“What?” He pulled an open storble out of his cloak and shrugged.

Adif gingerly took the sword, admiring the silver handle and crosspiece. The sheath looked study, but it was wrapped in brightly colored yarn, almost as though it were wearing a knit sweater. 

Adif unsheathed the sword to get a look at the blade.

Jelro didn’t know much about swords, but his breath caught when he saw the blade. It gleamed no matter which angle it was held at, and the edge was slightly curved and was impossibly sharp and smooth. There wasn’t a single scratch on the surface except for the forger’s marking near the hilt.

“Luss, where did you get this?” Adif breathed.

“I’m not sure I remember, but it’s from somewhere in Asbvaj,” Luss said. “Got it from trading some nixie blood”—he stumbled over the ‘x’ in nixie—“so I dunno how good the quality is.”

Adif stared at Luss in bewilderment. 

“Well, no wonder!” she exclaimed. “Nixie blood is an incredibly potent ingredient! This blade...” Adif slid her hand on to the handle and effortlessly slashed the sword in a series of swings. “Can I really have this?”

“Not for free.”

“I would never take advantage of someone’s generosity like that!” Adif cried. She dug into her belt pouch.

“I was joking, Adif. You don’t have to--” Luss stopped as Adif dropped five silver bits into his hands. He gaped at her, managing to get out a quiet, “Ho-ly shit.”

“Oh Firmament,” Kestek squeaked. “I’ve never seen that much jag at once in my life.”

“It’s worth it,” Adif said, weighing her new blade in her hands. “Thank you so much, Luss. It’s so beautiful.”

Luss dismissively waved a hand, looking slightly embarrassed. 

“Maybe we should open that envelope,” Shayrow suddenly said.

“Good idea.” Adif quickly pulled out the envelope. She carefully tore the seal, and five pins with the Yaruid Royal Crest fell out into her hand.

She held up the letter so they could all read it.

This envelope contains pins for each member in the group to wear as proof that they are representing the Kingdom of Yaruid as they attend the ceremonial duel of the assumed ruler of Asbvaj.

The instructions of the task are as follows: 

At least one member of the group is to challenge and duel the prince. 

Do not hold back, but do NOT defeat him. The goal is to create uncertainty among the people of their assumed ruler’s strength.

Speak to the overseer after the ceremony concludes to obtain your proof as a challenger. 

Return to Yaruid once this is done and deliver the proof to the head of the royal guard.

— K. J. Ashphoramous

“Wow.” Luss whistled. “We’ve sure got our work cut out for us.”

“I’m confused,” Kestek said. “Why does it say not to defeat the prince?”

“Because-- Wait, hold on.” Luss glanced around at everyone. “Am I actually the only one that knows how the ceremony runs?”

“I don’t,” Jelro said. “I have no clue how the ruling in Asbvaj is handled.”

“Me neither,” Adif admitted.

“Nor do I,” Shayrow added.

“Um.” Kestek blushed. “Well, I mean, you’re going to be explaining it, anyway...”

Luss snorted.

“It’s not all that complicated,” he said. “The ruler of Asbvaj is allowed to have one kid. That kid only gets to be ruler if, when they turn eighteen, they can hold their own in a duel against any challengers around their age that come forward at the ceremony.”

“Why?” Jelro asked. “Doesn’t the ruler become the ruler by birthright?”

“That’s the point, I guess.” Luss shrugged. “In Asbvaj, strength is above all other values. If someone is stronger than the ruler, then they should be the ruler instead.”

“How many challengers does he have to face?” Adif wondered. 

“As many that show up,” Luss answered. “If the prince is defeated, the winner of that duel fights the rest of the duels. If they lose at any point, that winner fights the prince and then everyone else. It doesn’t stop until someone can defeat everyone.”

“How long does this ceremony last?” Kestek spluttered.

“It can go on for days. I think the longest in the records was ten days until the princess managed to come out on top.”

“Wait, princess?” Kestek interjected.

“Yeah.” Luss gave her a look. “Like I said—the ruler gets to have one kid. They all go through the ceremony just the same.”

“What if the ruler has twins?” Shayrow inquired.

“They fight each other first, then the winner accepts the challengers.”

“Wow,” Jelro said. “I can’t imagine spending an entire eighteen years pitted against a sibling for the right to rule—or for anything.”

“Really?” Shayrow looked mildly surprised. “I don’t find it that hard to imagine. But, then again, I grew up in a family of swordbearers—so I don’t have to imagine much.”

“Jelro doesn’t have much of an imagination, anyway,” Adif quipped.

Luss practically choked.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one here with a sense of humor,” he managed between his strangled laughs.

~ ~ ~