The Imperial Sword & Shield
“Oi, Gossi. Who is that!”
Leaning suggestively across the bartop, the young woman was making a concerted effort to pump up her ‘assets’ as she asked the tavern owner about her latest employee. Gossi sighed to herself, and managed an affable smile for the girl even as she did her best to let her down gently, now. “Unavailable, lass. What else can I getchya?” The girl pouted prettily, but Gossi remained nonplussed. Ry’s good looks had certainly drummed up business in a way she hadn’t anticipated, but the woman wasn’t the sort to take advantage of anyone. Best to let the girls know quick - and early - that the object of their desire wasn’t on the market. If they chose to stick around anyway, well - she’d willingly exchange food and drink for coin. Ry knew to let her know if anyone acted inappropriately.
To her credit, this particular lass simply sighed winsomely and returned to her previous position. “Ale, then. And my thanks.” She was later joined by friends, easing Gossi’s guilt a tad. As for Rycroft, he was keeping himself busy cleaning tables and taking orders; though Gossi knew for a fact he’d heard the exchange. The man had uncommonly good hearing.
“You heard that the Scientist has a new clutch project?” One of the male patrons was speaking to someone else at the bar, causing Gossi to opt to clean glasses just a little closer. The Scientist, eh? What was that one up to?
“Yeah, something big. Supposed to be a … uh … ‘goodwill’ gesture. Like anyone from the Nexus would trust’em after that last debacle.” The speaker continued, glancing around - clearly looking for any golden-eyed Projects. “S’creepy, if y’ask me.”
“Not if it works.” The person he’d been speaking too seemed sure of something, and gave the first speaker a hard look. “Who’re the candidates? Anyone we know?”
As the pair continued to speculate, Gossi found her eyes drifting back towards Rycroft - wondering anew about the strange powers he possessed.
For close to a year now, the man had lived in the White Horse Tavern with Gossi, Varna and Allouette the serving girl. He’d never once caused an ounce of trouble, and had proven himself to be both an asset as a second server, and an unofficial protector. Several times, Death Court raids had happened nearby, but a strange ‘shield’ had been raised around the tavern and their surrounding neighbors. Sometimes, it was as if the Death Court couldn’t see them at all. Other times, no matter how hard the dragons tried, they simply couldn’t approach. Not physically, nor with their magic or even thrown rocks.
Rycroft didn’t talk about it, and generally looked a bit tired after putting one of the larger shields up, but there was no mistaking that he was the one behind their safe fortune. He never asked for anything, afterwards, and simply went about his work as if nothing had happened. Crotchety Varna had taken to making his favorite stew to help him recuperate, but like the herald -- she never explicitly said anything about it. The unspoken accord was a bit odd, but Gossi had decided to abide by Rycroft and Varna’s example.
But it was bothering Gossi. Rycroft had skills and talents that could - and should - be put to better use then guarding a simple tavern in the dingy part of town. Her allegiance to the Empress and the Vella Crean put her ill at ease with simply letting things continue - even if she knew she’d miss the herald terribly if he did leave. His steady presence was a soothing balm on the worst days, and his quiet humor could be counted on for a chuckle when the days were quiet. He’d even gotten Alouette to open up after years of utter silence from the girl, earning giggles and the occasional flower in his hair that Gossi never thought she’d ever see again after the death of Alouette’s fiance.
Sighing, she listened in again on the speaker; but was disappointed to realize they’d shifted topics. Wiping the last glass down, she saw to the needs of another pair of customers, then bustled off to the kitchen for an order. Varna met her at the door, looking troubled.
“Goss, someone’s at the back.” She said, her green eyes sharp. Brow furrowing, the tavern keeper nodded and asked Varna to take the waiting order out, then bustled towards the back door. Somewhere along the way, Rycroft slid into her shadow, joining her at the back door before she opened it. Glancing back over her shoulder, she gave him a slight nod (uncanny hearing and uncanny timing, this one) then slid the door open.
Hazel eyes blinked at them both from the back alley.
Gossi looked scared for a good, long moment. She knew who this was - one of the Scientist’s oldest projects. He was --
“No.” That was from Rycroft, his pale silver-blue eyes locking on the tall stranger in the alley. The Search Rider seemed nonplussed, though he did cross his arms. “You are a strange one. Interesting.” The man looked at Gossi. “Tavern Keeper, greetings.” Gossi inclined her head politely, but also did not invite the man inside. Why was he at the back door, anyway?
“I was pulled here, it seems, by this one.” Those hazel eyes had a strange Otherness to them that put Rycroft’s teeth on edge. His mental probes yielded nothing, but clearly this man was also Gifted. Albeit… differently.
“The Clutch?” Gossi asked, quietly. Too quietly, and without looking at Rycroft. The Search Rider nodded, causing a swift intake of breath from the older woman. Hesitantly, she looked over at Rycroft. “Ry… you should look into it. It could be -”
“I won’t have someone else in my head, Gossi.” The vehement denial shocked the woman. Rycroft had never so much as raised his voice at her. But the pain in his words was undeniable - as was his clear understanding of what this man represented. Rycroft had quietly done some research since his arrival in the Vella Crean a year prior.
“You are afraid.” The Search Rider’s quiet voice sent a jolt of ice up Ry’s spine, and he whirled on the man. Around them, a subtle breeze rustled hair and Gossi’s skirts. Ry’s eyes practically glowed with the power in him.
“No. I am not.” His voice was flinty, though he softened moderately when Gossi laid a quelling hand on his arm. The Search Rider’s expression softened as well. “Consider the offer made, regardless.” The man inclined his head to them both, then focused on Gossi. “You know how to find the Labs, yes?” When the tavern keeper nodded, he seemed pleased. “Good. Tell them Sh’an sent you, should anyone ask.” Another look was spared for Rycroft, though the Search Rider - Sh’an - didn’t add anything else. With a polite nod, he turned and strode back down the alley, disappearing into darkness.
Later, much later - after the customers had gone and the staff of the White Horse was relaxing by the fire with a bowl of Varna’s stew in hand - Rycroft finally broke.
“What are the Labs, Gossi?” The herald asked, his bowl cooling in his hand without a single taste. Before Gossi could answer, however, Alouette perked up. “The Labs? Y’got tapped for a clutch, Ry?” The girls warm brown eyes fairly danced in excitement, though she was alone in it. Varna looked sour, while Gossi seemed troubled.
“Is that what happened?” Ry asked, still watching Gossi though he had given Alouette a slight nod of acknowledgement. Gossi shifted uncomfortably in the large armchair, then set her bowl down on the side table. “Ye, that’s what happened. That one doesn’t come around ‘ere much, but most everyone knows of’im. He takes the Scientist’s projects off-world; spreadin’ his influence, if y’ask me.” She drew breath. “He also knows who will … and won’t … be a good fit fer the clutches laid here at Vella Crean.” Now her eyes are steady, holding Rycroft. “Standing doesn’t mean the dragons will find y’worthy. Just means y’got t’potential.”
Rycroft had to hold himself back from snapping at his benefactor. She knew nothing about heralds, companions, or what it had taken for him to complete his training with Danja. She had no reason to know how painful her words were. Not even the slightest guess at how much the thought of being ‘judged’ would set him on edge.
“Considering where the Death Court comes from, I suspect the one doing the judging won’t be them.” He said instead, his voice chilly. “I’ve been assessed by a higher hand. Nothing here can compare.” Arrogant, perhaps, but it was also the truth. Even if he was horribly sure he was beyond the Star-Eyed’s reach in this far flung corner of the world.
Varna looked annoyed while Alouette sank back into her own chair, deflated. Gossi, though … Gossi looked angry.
“Tha’be the first time y’said something nasty, Rycroft.” She leaned forward, pinning him with a Look. “From wha’little ye told me, y’got tossed here when y’shoulda died. Yer girl ain’t abandoned ye, she died. Who’s t’say this ain’t part o’the plan o’yer own Gods, eh? Who’s to say? Ye? Yer a mage, Rycroft, na a Godling.” She huffed. “Everyone ‘ere lost someone. Ye know that. I’d give anythin’ for my husband back.” Her eyes softened again, and she sat back.
“Ye know enough abou’ t’dragons and the Vella Crean, now. Think abou’ it.” She looked towards the fire. “Y’know I believe I’ll see m’husband agin someday. Next life, maybe. But someday.” She glanced back. “Maybe y’got the chance here t’see yer's sooner.”
Rycroft had nothing to say to that. Not without risking further disapproval and censure. Bitter as he was at the implication that Danja may or may not be reborn here - what did they take her for, a cosmic game piece that popped in and out of existence just to please him?! - he also couldn’t help the flutter in his stomach. Like Gossi, he’d give anything to see her again. Anything … and everything.
Stupid as it sounded, maybe there was something to the idea. Perhaps not in the way Gossi meant it (that was too romantic, like some sort of horrible Bardic play) but in another. What if Danja had been reborn elsewhere? Wouldn’t a dragon help him find her?
Somewhere along the way, he’d stopped dreaming about her in the way that had made him think she was watching over him. Now his dreams were simply memories - other times, nightmares. He’d never felt her comforting presence again, and that scared him. Had her spirit repudiated him? Was he so far from home that she simply couldn’t find him anymore? Was he falling into depravity? With her death and his slipping control over his powers once more, had he lost sight of what it meant to be a herald?
Looking at Gossi, though, he said nothing. Climbing to his feet, he gave his bowl to Alouette to finish and went to his room upstairs.
It took time for the thoughts to form up into a haphazard plan, but eventually - Rycroft did seek out Gossi’s help in locating the Labs. If he was guarded and suspicious at first, well … Gossi didn’t blame him, and it seemed neither did anyone else they encountered. The mantra fed to the herald from the Projects he met seemed straightforward enough - these beasts were for protecting the Vella Crean. If the Search Rider had found him suitable, then he was welcome in the Labs.
Shivering against the feeling of being deep underground and under the scrutiny of so many molten-gold eyes, Rycroft nevertheless made a point to get the lay of the land. He kept his powers to himself - particularly after he realized what the word ‘lab’ meant and how exactly the Scientist went about his ‘experiments.’
Soon, he hoped. Soon, he’d know one way or the other if this endeavor was a fool’s errand.