Season of Bloom - 35. Pitaxan Playtime

Lapis trudged through snow and ice, an arrow on his string at all times. He could barely see sixty yards out, and only his ears and Khemet’s nose guided them through the whipping precipitation.

“I can’t see anything,” Valerie called behind him. “Shouldn’t we stop and rest until the storm clears?”

“And where would you suppose we wait out the storm?” Faes’ voice demanded, the hollowborn’s light long since blown out by the wind. “Do you have a cave on hand? Or perhaps a nice warm cottage?”

Lapis considered returning to the hunting lodge, but at this point, the amurrun wasn’t sure he’d be able to find it, even with Khemet leading them.

“I smell smoke,” Ekundayo said suddenly. “There is campfire nearby.”

Lapis raised his nose, sniffing slightly. His head turned toward the smell of smoke, and the amurrun started walking cautiously. The sound of a banner whipping in the wind caught his ears.

“I believe we found the Pitaxans,” he called, staring at a flickering light.

The light bloomed into a crackling fire, the sound of a lute straining to be heard over the wind. A bard sat in front of a small group of nobles, playing for them as they lazed around.

“Annamede!”

Linzi suddenly raced past Lapis, her short legs churning as she sped up the small hill. The music stopped as the bard stared at the halfling indifferently.

“Do I know you? Oh, you’re the baron’s bard!”

Her attention turned to Lapis, a warm smile gracing her face. Instantly, the amurrun felt his skin warming despite the weather, and he moved up the hill eagerly, wanting nothing more than to get to know this beautiful songbird.

A heated hand grabbed his wrist suddenly, Faes pulling the baron back.

“Remember yourself,” the hollowborn hissed, his hand burning the amurrun, and Lapis bit back a hiss as he pulled his arm away.

“Ah, what a beautiful flower to grace our presence!” Annamede beamed, turning her attention to Valerie. “Please, feel free to have a seat. I was just regaling my lords with the tale of Irovetti’s ascent to power.”

Valerie scowled, refusing the seat, and Linzi took it instead.

“You don’t remember me? You taught us poetics at the Academy! You… you’re just so amazing!” the halfling stammered.

“You are not joining the hunt?” Faes frowned at the group.

“Why should we? The weather is cold, but the fire warm and the wine is rich,” Annamede chuckled. “What use do we have for a hunt?”

She set her lute aside, grabbing an open bottle.

“Would you care for some wine? We can wait out this weather in companionship.”

“We really should be returning to the hunt,” Lapis said uncertainly, his eyes travelling the bard’s body.

“Oh nonsense, it is far too cold out there. Please, I insist.”

“Well… I suppose we can’t do much hunting in this storm,” Lapis frowned.

“My lord,” Faes said tightly. “Which of us do you want to take guard? If a monster shows up, surely having us all drunk would be a poor choice.”

Lapis looked at his companions and sighed quietly.

“I’ll take guard. The rest of you, feel free to mingle. Make friends. I want our lands to be friendly with each other,” the amurrun said.

Instantly, Linzi took a goblet of wine, leaning back in her seat. Her book came out, and the halfling began writing excitedly, the wine sloshing in her goblet. The rest of the group sat more warily, none of them removing their armour or weapons. Lapis took up a seat with his back to the fire, trusting the cliff on the far side of the camp to protect them from any intruders. Khemet collapsed around him, the amurrun running a bit of magic through his hands as he pet his friend. A few more injuries healed, as the two stood a silent guard over the gathering.

Faes held his hand over the goblet, letting fire heat the wine. Fumes rose from the cup, most of the alcohol burning away with the heat. He had explained it away as personal mulled wine, going so far as to warm the glasses of the Pitaxans.

The kineticist was on his third glass already, supposedly well drunk. But his mind remained sharp, his senses sharper as the storm began clearing.

“Did you know…” a noble hiccoughed, his eyes crossing slightly. “I heard Castruccio isn’t even… isn’t even his name… It’s Mandalarucio… son of a Belland something or other. He changed it to… to hide from the Technic League…”

“I heard a nymph brought him to power,” another noble snickered.

“A nymph?” Faes demanded incredulously. “No wonder he beds everyone he can. Probably can’t find anyone halfway decent after laying a nymph!”

He could see Lapis’ ears swivelling, the cat far enough away not to arouse suspicion, but close enough for feline ears to listen in. Smart kitten. Faes would have to reward him when they got back to Ismenia. His pants tightened at the thought.

A sudden yowl startled the hollowborn, his eyes widening as Lapis leapt up from his seat. The amurrun sent an arrow flying in the blink of an eye, Khemet charging forward to sink his teeth into an enormous hydra that had snuck up on the group in the storm.

All around him, the baron’s companions were prepared for battle; the only one lagging behind was one rather drunk halfling. Fire and arrows met the hydra, Faes calling up his flame as he rose unhindered by the alcohol.

The beast roared at the resistance, all five heads thrashing as Khemet bit through one. Fire rushed over the wound, sealing it forever as Faes targeted each head individually.

Lapis seemed to have the same idea. His arrows picked out targets for Khemet, the tiger eating his way through the acid weakened scales in the beast, only to have Faes burn through the rest. By the time Valerie and Ekundayo brought their weapons to bear, the creature was dead, one of its heads in Lapis’ hands.

“I told you we didn’t need the wyvern,” the baron smirked at Faes.

“Laugh it up my lord,” Faes smirked back at the amurrun.

They would see who was laughing more that night.