It was after great consideration that I decided my mortal enemy and his friends are kind of alright, so at least I’d let them travel with me. I’m not completely sold on the idea of helping them beyond magical advice though, given that part of their plans seem to involve tracking me down and likely attempting to murder me. Honestly, they’d have to get in line. Also, that line is a conga line, so good luck, I guess.

Anyway, I eventually got around to telling them why I was tracking this particular stone. And Big Guy finally told me his name: Torin Agrion. They introduced Eris’ brother, Wren, too, but I had already reasoned that that was his name. It took a brief lecture on fairy and fae biology, but I managed to explain the levity of what they’d done well enough. The Hounds had been rather sorry, although Torin claimed he would do it again if the stone would have helped. Dreadfang, or Fang as he’d shyly told me to call him, had been the most apologetic of them all despite having no part in the initial theft.

He had insisted on attempting to make amends, I told him he’d die a fairy slave if dared to offer such an open commitment. Fortunately, Sigil seemed to have a better mind for understanding the lessons I’d given them regarding fae interactions and had agreed to stop Fang if he tried. As it is, I’m still undecided on whether I’ll let them join me in the burrow or not. More to the point, I don’t think the fairies will be particularly pleased if I bring along the people that wrecked all their houses and almost killed their queen…either way, it was immediately clear that Fang should be kept far away from any fae dealings in the future.

It's hard enough to avoid getting scammed by them when you know their tricks, much less if you're the sort to believe them.

Yeah…I’ll probably leave them at the forest’s edge.

At first, I thought their ignorance was the standard variety you see in most non-Magis folk, but as it turns out there aren’t many fae creatures in the Forsaken Lands. Then again, if what they told me about Magis never being born there is true, maybe the leylines there are too disordered to be hospitable. Although, there could be plenty of other reasons too. But I’ve digressed.

Zephyr has significantly cut down on travel time, so I’d say he was a good investment, if a bit cantankerous. While I was sorting out the human things, my wisp had given Zephyr a tongue-lashing spirit to spirit and resolved some of his misgivings. He persisted in choosing the most turbulent paths, but he finally let us ride on his back. Well, except for Wren who had continued to be unconscious a couple days longer. When he did wake, he’d freaked out about being caught in what he thought was an avalanche until Zephyr noticed his occupant trying to gouge a hole through his pseudo-stomach and promptly spat him out.

I’m no doctor, but he would be okay as far as magic could tell me. It did take a minute to convince him that we we’re friends now though, due to his last memories being of a hazy smokey fight.

It isn’t long before we’ve reached the edge of the woods. The closer we got the lusher the environment became, taking on rich green hues sprouting over dark brown soil. Ultimately, we bypassed Teleost slightly on the way, since the northernmost edge of the Great Forest was closer.

I dismount, sliding a short distance off Zephyr’s back.

“You all stay here, I should be back by the end of today, tomorrow at the latest. If I’m not, my partner can lead you back to me. You should be safe so long as you don’t actually enter the woods, but Zephyr can protect you if anything comes out looking for trouble.” The golem grumbles about being reduced to a babysitter. “I’m going to sort out my travel arrangements with the trees now, if everyone is good?” Most of them nod their understanding and agreement, except for Fang who looks dissatisfied.

“I was hoping to come with you, if you don’t mind?” He requests, ever polite.

“You can’t.” He looks ready to argue. “Fairies can spot suckers like you from a mile away. You will definitely get scammed. I know you want to apologize, but the only thing you can offer them when you don’t have magic is servitude. And they will absolutely take you for all you’re worth. Humans are just resources to fae, means to an end, unless you contract one as a Magis they won’t see you as anything else.” I felt a pang of guilt at the slash of emotion that cut across his face. I tried patting his knee where he was still sitting on Zephyr to soften the impact.

“Okay, I understand.” He looks away, clearly thinking self-deprecating thoughts as his expression turns subtly bitter. I can’t take it, this guy.

“If it means that much to you, I’ll offer them a dragon scale on your behalf.” I suggest.

“But those belong to you, it’s bad enough that I can’t make amends myself, it wouldn’t be fair to have you do it.” He rejects.

I counter, “Alright, then buy it from me and I’ll deliver it.”

“I have no way to compensate you for something so precious.” He shakes his head.

“It’s fine, you can just owe me one,” I reassure, “although, I can’t guarantee that owing a Magis won’t be just as bad as owing a fairy would be.” My words are half playful and half warning. He considers his options for a minute, but finally gives up and agrees. Seems like thee Supreme Lord of Darkness and Void Space Himself owes me one, I smile. A blush faintly rises into his ears, as if he can hear my thoughts. I imagine him saying I was thirteen in a tone that begs me to stop. I chuckle softly to myself as I walk away, business settled.

I approach a random tree, it has a cool black and white pattern to its bark, but that’s all I can tell you about it. Well, that, and that it’s young; it doesn’t have a sprite or imp of its own yet. Even so, it connects just fine to all the other trees of the forest allowing me to communicate my intentions and requests. Normally, there’d be more fanfare for daring to address the Great Forest itself, but they were expecting me. I had only to start walking forward and they would bring me to where I needed to go soon enough.

It should have taken days to reach the fairy-burrow tucked into the shadow of the cliff, but the tree-express got me there in a little under two hours. If I was lucky, they’d help me on the way back too. It had been a couple weeks since I’d last seen the place, but they had long since repaired their tiny homes. They looked much nicer when they weren’t in heaps and pieces.

Unlike the first time I visited, this time I was welcomed and greeted openly by the fairies. It wasn’t long before the whole swarm of them was hanging around, watching if not nearing me. I stood in the center of the semi-circle crescent-shaped layout fairies preferred to build in. They chittered excitedly, and hungrily, for they knew why I was here. Then, from the most ornate house, a pavilion-like structure imbedded with flakes of silvery mica, the queen emerged.

She was supported by two other fairies, helping her withered form move steadily. She looked awful, though not as bad as I knew fairies could when they were magic-starved. She had almost completely lost any luster she should have had, and her wings drooped down her back; they weren’t quite shriveled yet, but they would eventually crinkle up and die like wilted sun-scorched leaves. Well, they wouldn’t, because I got her stone back, but you get the point.

I don’t waste any time fishing it from my pouch, kneeling to place it beside her. The instant she touches it I feel the ambient magic rush into her, gushing through the stone and transforming into the special frequency of magic she needs to nourish herself and her colony. Only seconds later, it’s as if she was never weak or sickly at all. She stands as tall and regal as she should, although that’s no more than the height of my hand.

Her dark curls spring, glossy and magic-filled; and her golden eyes have taken on a dazzling and eerie glow that sparkles faintly. Most iconic of all, her wings stand tall, proudly displaying their affinity for the flow of the leylines around us. I allow myself a pleased smile.

She does not thank me, but I don’t expect her to. Her gratitude is implicit in the way she swiftly brings forth the fulfillment of her end of the deal. As promised, I receive a casket-bird quill of exceptional quality, three sacks of wick-wolf char, and most importantly an ounce of moon-dew. Her gratuity for my services is displayed in how the sacks are all made of finely woven wild silk, and the moon-dew is contained in a naiad-glass bottle. Fairies are con artists, don’t get me wrong, but they know when to show their appreciation.

We communicate solely through body language, as the use of words might open either side to making a mistake. I don’t explain the dragon scale, though there is curiosity in the little queen’s eyes; I just place it before her and make a gesture of offering. She knows with the keen mind of any fae that it was not a part of our agreement, and so she also knows that I am giving it on someone else’s behalf. She considers it for a moment, the tiniest pout on her lips, and then nods. The dragon scale disappears with a blink, along with the newly recovered fairy-stone.

With that, all my business is complete. It feels nice to be free of stressful commitments again. If only my life would stay that way.

Alas, I have a rather interesting assortment of traveling companions to return to.

And worse, all the trouble they bring with them.

I try not to dilly-dally too much on the way, but the journey back is a peaceful moment to myself that I’m not likely to experience again anytime soon.

All things considered, I suppose I should bring my merry band home to plan and regroup. Somehow, I doubt I’ll be able to refuse if those plumb eyes ask me to help them.

Sigh.