I enjoyed myself with Sylvia so much that I flat out forgot to bring up the message I’d been given by Bleddyn’s agent. But, in retrospect, maybe it was a good idea that I hadn’t done so. After all, I don’t think any of her memories from the time when she was acting as a spy observing Addersfield had returned. She had no knowledge of Bleddyn from her observations of the town at the time. At least, to the best of my understanding. We’d talked about it in that hour or so where we had dinner together.

  Sylvia had fragmented memories of the war, and according to her, they felt like viewing something from the perspective of another woman. She remembered quiet days of wagon travel across the Herztalian countryside, but not the destination. She remembered days sailing on the Thorny Reef, but not the reason for doing so. She remembered acting as a scribe in Nerexxa-controlled Elderwyck, but not the missions she was assigned. However, she had flashes of the people who were with us at those times, and most importantly to me…

  I was in them.

  Occasionally.

  That was enough, though, that she was interested in trying to reconnect with me, now that we were in a relatively safe place.

  All that to say, however, that she had little connection and little knowledge of the hell she helped to save me from. Therefore, maybe it was best that I didn’t involve her just yet. I had no idea what Bleddyn wanted from me, and little idea what I could do to even help.

  The fact of the matter is that months of settling into a new life here in Blutstein had dulled my taste for revolution.

  Stability, I found, was the death of fervor.

  Not to say I didn't want to contribute in some way, but...

  However, there was someone likely home who would be interested in what Bleddyn wanted. And judging by the light I could see in the forge he had built with his own two hands, he was still working. Luckily, there were sound-dampening enchantments on the walls of it, or else I would have been irritated by the sounds of hammer and anvil, no doubt echoing out of the walls and disturbing the girls.

  I drifted down on silent wings above the complex that was my home, hidden by the dark of night around me. A few sparks drifting up from the chimney of the forge caught on my clothes, but I brushed them off as I landed quietly outside the door of it. Cancelling my transformation, I knocked on the hardwood surface, but didn’t wait until I heard from the occupant. I had a standing invitation from the owner, after all.

  Once inside, I discovered he probably didn’t hear me anyway. The din of hammer on anvil was loud enough that I felt nearly assaulted, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. Even though I knew that he knew I was here now, I waited patiently as the bare-chested occupant finished hammering away at what looked like a breastplate. I was…pretty amused that Azarus seemed to be working with Oninite, and having a hell of a time at that. Now that we had settled down and had time to really work on our crafting, my Dwarven friend had taken it upon himself to learn the ins and outs of the notoriously finicky metal that I had abundant access to.

  Thank you, Captain Hinagawa, for your regular trips from the isles. I had an outright underground silo of the black and blue ore, sitting neatly beneath the lighthouse. Only Azarus and I had access to that space, and judging by the pile in the corner of the forge, he’d been dipping into it.

  Abruptly, Azarus almost snarled in frustration, picked up the red-hot breastplate with his bare hands, and bodily flung it across the room to land on that pile.

  Guess that one was a dud. Too bad. I wasn’t much of an armorer, to tell the truth, so it was nice to see Azarus dipping his toe into it.

  Said Dwarf only stood there for a few moments more, stewing in his frustration with a white knuckle grip on his hammer, before carefully setting it down on his anvil. He turned to face me with an almost belligerent cast to his broad features. “Don’t know how ya stand the stuff,” He grunted. “Gobshite waste of space rock blew up on me three times in the last hour! Three!” Azarus threw up his hands in renewed frustration. “I swear, it’s ten times more temperamental than any other metal I’ve ever worked with.”

  I smirked at him and playfully buffed my nails against my shirt. “It just requires a delicate touch, that’s all,” I said nonchalantly. “I’m not sure those brutish mauls you call hands are capable of it. So sad.”

  Azarus visibly cringed at the tone I took, something I called my ‘dandy noble’ voice. “Gods, ancestors…someone save me. Ya know I hate that.”

  “Which is why I do it,” I said, not bothering to hide my amusement. Still, I shook my head. “But, I didn’t come by to poke fun at you. I…got a message from someone today, that I’m guessing you might be interested in.”

  Azarus picked up a nearby rag and began wiping the soot off his face. “Oh?” He grunted.

  “Bleddyn,” I said bluntly, causing him to go still. Gradually, my friend lowered the rag until he could stare at me with disbelieving golden eyes.

  “Bleddyn?” Azarus asked me, incredulity thick in his voice. “He’s in the city?”

  I shook my head. “No. But it appears he has a presence here. An agent of his from the Unshackled tracked me down after class and delivered this.” I said, reaching into my ever-present bag and withdrawing the scroll given to me. I was a bit surprised to see that Azarus was now staring at it like the scroll was a venomous snake, rearing up to take a bite from him. “What? What is it? I…thought you’d be interested in hearing what he has to say.”

  Azarus glanced up to meet my eyes. “I dunno, Nate,” He murmured. “For the first time in a long time, I’m feelin’…comfortable. I like where I’m at, and I don’t feel like I’m constantly runnin’ from my past. I…feel for Bleddyn, and I’m not a fan of slavery. Ya know I’m not.”

  I nodded quietly, watching him. “I do.”

  “But…” Azarus continued slowly. “I’m not lookin’ to go runnin’ into danger. Monsters, sure. Ya gotta take care of them, ya gotta make sure they’re stayin’ down or else the entire damn countryside is going to be crawlin’ with ‘em in no time.” He let a short, unamused chuckle. “Hell, Tarus has been talkin’ to me about goin’ out there and takin’ care of some messy Prime’s he’s got an eye on.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Another revolution, though…” I said carefully.

  “Is somethin’ else,” Azarus nodded, looking away almost as if he were ashamed. “Nate, we jumped ship from the last war we were in. I…don’t want to jump back into another one. Even if…even if it’s to fix me own people.” He shook his head bitterly. “Not that they want me anymore, what with the exile.”

  I took a deep breath then and nodded. “I…thought the same thing,” I admitted to him. “You said it. Life is good right now, and we’ve got responsibilities. Aveline in particular…” I shook my head. “No. If…Bleddyn is asking us to head up to the Principality and join him, I’m going to turn him down. It’s just…not the right time.”

  It made me think, though, about what I would do if a request like that came forward a few years from now. I was imagining myself as having graduated from the Academy, maybe somewhere past even the Third Breakpoint. I was imagining Aveline as a young woman in her teens, with the full power of a Status and her own time in the Academy starting, carefree and unburdened by her past. I think, then, I would rush out without a second thought. Unlike Azarus, I think I was willing to jump back into a war now. If I believed in the cause, if it was as personal for me as slavery was…

  It just wasn’t the right time. But enough woolgathering.

  I shook my head. “Let’s just see what he has to say,” I said, approaching one of Azarus’s workbenches in the forge. I cleared a space and, with Azarus hovering over my shoulders, set the scroll down on the table.

  And unfurled it.

  I read.

  Bleddyn was…surprisingly wordy, for a man I remember as being terse at best.

  Student,

  It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Over a damn year since we both busted out of the adders' den, chased by hordes of monsters. I’ve heard a few things that have happened to you since then, both from my people and from some unexpected kinsmen that showed up.

  So. The Thunderheart Clan did end up sending support to Bleddyn in the end. I had suspected they might.

  We’ve both been having a go at things, though. By now, I’m sure you’ve heard about what I’ve been up to here in Dwarven land, and I’m sure you’re not that upset with a little raised hell. Our time together was short, but I could tell you had the soul of a warrior. Good job on that monster you took out in the bay.

  That…must be referring to Rhazal. I suppose news of a Calamity reached Bleddyn, even in whatever hole he was hiding.

  But I won’t beat around the bush anymore. I, we, need your help.

  I held my breath for a moment, almost afraid to read on. For a moment, I felt the weight of the Knightly Oath I took those months ago weighing down on me. I had meant every word of that Oath, but…if it meant leaving Aveline for it…

  I'll get something out of the way, though.

  Don't come. I have another use in mind for you down there.

  There’s a couple of things we need. The first has to do with the device you left in my care. Sorry to say, but it’s gone. It was destroyed in a fight I got into not long ago, and we’ve been really feeling its absence. I know you left me instructions on how to make more, but I’m going to be blunt.

  They sucked.

  I looked up from the scroll to stare off into space for a moment. Furrowing my brow, I wracked my brain trying to figure out what exactly I had scribbled on that tiny scrap of parchment in the minutes before I had set out to rescue Bleddyn and kill Magnus. Try as I might…I couldn’t.

  But I could imagine just how amateur it probably was. The fact is, I hadn’t understood Abjuration quite as deeply back then as I do now. I hadn’t had both the depth of theoretical knowledge as well as the practical experience. There had been months of instruction from Grey afterward, my own private study, and then the last several months of formal instruction from Professor Stahlbrandt. Not only that, but my knowledge of runic script had been much shallower back then.

  Combined with the fact that I had been trying to translate my own unique brand of Enchanting through Aetherial Melding into the standard format…

  Shit.

  Despite that, we’ve managed to produce a few inferior copies of the device. However, what our Enchanter has created isn’t as good as what you provided, and it comes with risks. To our dismay, we discovered those risks were deadly.

  That risk is unacceptable.

  I’m reaching out to you now to ask for more of the device. I can’t overstate to you just how many people were saved, just with that one copy of it. If possible, I’d like to ask for more than one. I imagine you have access to a great deal more resources, where I suspect my man found you.

  I let out a sudden sigh of relief, something I heard echoed from my right as I read those words.

  He just wanted more Bond Breakers.

  Hell, that was easy. Not only had I improved on the design massively since that first prototype that I’d left with Bleddyn, but I’d gotten better at making them in general. These days, I was familiar enough with the design that I could whip one up in thirty minutes with only a box of scrap.

  Not only that…

  But I knew proper Enchanting notation these days, courtesy of my course with Professor Krevane. And considering how familiar I was with the process, I was positive I could translate the process much better onto paper, to the degree that even the most inexperienced of hedge Enchanters could produce a Bond Breaker.

  The second thing I have to ask of you is more perilous.

  The fact is, we’ve helped a lot of people up here, student. So much so that we’re having trouble caring for all of them. Many of those people want to go home, especially with the news that the civil war is over. Normally, I would ask my allies in this land to help resettle them, but the fact is that it would place them in a difficult position. The presence of so many of our fellows would raise eyebrows that might just risk the entire movement. To that point, we’re starting the process of relocating them to the lands they were stolen from.

  Oh, shit.

  Now, you don’t need to help with that part. My people and my kinsman will be handling the journey. However, many, many of the people we’ve helped are either from the lands you’re currently living on, or wish to move there. It’s a much easier place to start a new life in. You can just disappear there, with no questions asked. It’s safe, too, much safer than over half the realm. You can see just why so many people want to move there. As such, I’m asking for your help in settling them. I’ve heard that you were granted a title, and that comes with weight in that city.

  Oh, goddamnit. I knew being a Knight would come back to bite me in the ass.

  I’m asking you to use that weight to help people who suffered like we did. Without it, I’m not sure just how easy it will be to resettle them. If you say no, I’ll figure something out.

  But I hope you won’t.

  Speak to my man for more details, both on the items and the people.

  Sincerely,

  B

  I sighed, standing up straight from my bent-over position. At the same time, Azarus and I sought each other’s gaze. “Well,” He said, stopping to scratch his beard. “At least he ain’t askin’ us to fight for him.”

  “Yeah,” I let out a heavy breath and shook my head. “But it’s going to be a…large endeavor, to say the least. I’m going to need help resettling who knows how many former slaves.”

  Azarus raised an eyebrow at me. “So, you’re gonna do it?”

  I just looked at my Dwarven friend like he had just grown a second head. “Of course I am,” I said indignantly. “Who do you think you're talking to?”

  My response was a sigh and a nod. “Alright then,” Azarus said grimly. “We’ve got some work to do, then. But go on, shoo. Bait has been watchin’ Lina, and it’s gettin’ late. I know how you are with your rituals.”

  I smiled and nodded at him, stifling a laugh at the name my clone had picked up. I knew it irritated Core Ring, but that was the best part. Still, I knew I could count on Azarus’s support.

  It was never in question.

  I turned and left his forge, remembering to take the scroll with me. I was probably going to have to destroy this, but I wanted to show it to Grey first. He’d likely help as well.

  But for now, Azarus was right.

  I had a little girl to tuck into bed.