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    1. eclecticwitch 6 yrs ago

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3 yrs ago
Current Why is it laundry takes forever?
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5 yrs ago
I just bring watched ALL of the new Dark Crystal! I now have nothing left to live for. I need more!
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5 yrs ago
Time to play some catch up after my short vacation! I just wish I wasn't so exhausted~!
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5 yrs ago
Need to write but my brains is all fried
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5 yrs ago
@CaptainCrunch - Do eet gurl!
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Sybl stood to the side, out of the way and as small as possible despite his tall, willowy frame. He had his arms across over his chest. Her wore a loose fitting shirt with billowy sleeves and left unbuttoned to expose his chest. This was tucked into black, soft beaten leather which clung to his hips and legs in a rather suggestive way. Around his neck was a black scarf made of light fabric and with golden beads sewn into it to make sun patterns at each end. His eyes were half lidded as he mired himself in deep thought, letting the room exist only in his periphery.

Alice's voice chimed lovely and sweet, bringing him back to this reality. A soft haze clouded his mind slightly - the brandy he had consumed with breakfast. Just enough to make life sweet but not enough that he should slurr or fall. A smile tugged the corners of his pale lips and he let his eyes rest on the blonde Queen. He responded in the quiet rasp that was a voice with deeply damaged vocal cords. "My Queen, you would look devastatingly beautiful in anything you would drape over your body. However, if you were to wear the green you would match with my eyes." He unfolded his arms and stood more upright.

He did not blame or hate her for her words. In truth he probably was boring. Too compliant perhaps? Maybe he should learn better music for her joy? He did not flinch when she slapped the maid. She was within her full right to do so. "It would be my honor," he responded as he crossed the room. He knelt on the floor in front of her and took her hand into his own. His fingers lightly moved over her skin and he brought the back of her hand to his lips. Sybl brushed a light kiss across her knuckles before starting on painting her nails. The maid had done a tolerable job so far but it was quite boring. He applied the coats of paint and added embellishments of color to the nails. Little flowers of gold and blue. Something befitting of his Queen.

He had to admit to himself, he was thinking as he painted, that he had not felt the pull with this Queen. He hadn't felt them with any Queen he'd served so far. He hoped maybe it would develop. Maybe it would come out of the blue and he could find the court he was always meant to serve. For now her would do his duty to his lady and pray that if she were not his Queen that the next would be.


Location: Winton




She smiled kindly at Dareen, her offer of what she assumed was empathy for her dilemma with Faeril. She knew the woman would get over it, Faeril was tough as nails. She was lucky to have been able to have a moment past her barrier. She had just poked a wound in the wrong way, she supposed. Just as Dareen said, though perhaps with more nuance of violence.

Fatima considered this connection to the Queen of Winton and was not feeling great about it. Her stomach churned at the thought of that of some pampered bitch laying her hands on any of her new family. She chewed her cheek as she listened. It seemed all had finished putting their input forward and Fatima was about to reply when the young lad showed up.

"I am Fatima," she said softly and stood, approaching the boy. Worry swam in her gut. She didn't like this one bit. She took the letter from him and offered a small coin for his hard work. "Thank you." She opened the missive and frowned before handing it off to whoever deigned to take it. "Fuck," she whispered. "Xandar has decided to go off on his own. Idiot. Wants to make friends with the Queen." She snorted derisively. She hoped he would be safe. She hoped his misplaced trust would be rewarded. She rubbed her hands over her face and produced a huge sigh worthy of an tragic actress on stage.

"I am wary of trusting this priestess, however I do think it important we find a safe haven. We need a base of operations, someplace outside of the reach of a certain someone-" she did not wish to speak Dorothea's name lest it bring foul luck to Xandar. She dropped her hands to her sides and looked at her motley crew of rebels. A smile took hold of her lips. "If we all agree, I would be amenable to taking a leap of faith. It seems we are all in agreement? Of course I would have you Dareen, always." She looked to Mikhail. "I don't know about the weather, we'd have to ask our friendly neighborhood assassin," she teased lightly.


Location: Winton




She was surprised at the vehemence with which her empathy was met. She sat in stunned silence and looked up at the Eyrien woman. Faeril had gone so far as to call her a child. That was quite rude. Fatima wasn't a spring chicken by any means. She was so prickly, just like the brothers. She did not respond to the woman's leaving. What was there to say? Nothing else came to her mind. And it appeared she had already fucked it up enough. Fatima clasped her hands in her lap, gently massaging her palm when Jandar broke her from her thoughts.

She turned white-gold eyes upon him and smiled. "Hello, enjoy eavesdropping?" she teased but this was quickly changed to interest with the statement of the priestess and dark gates. Her eyebrows raised and she whistled softly. The tension seemed to melt from him as he unburdened his secret. "Well, that certainly is news. How did you meet this person? I don't imagine that priestesses just go about advertising on the streets. Can she be trusted?"


Location: Winton




"I am her escort, her protector, Lady. And I will protect her even if it's from herself. As for that particular 'discussion'. I thought it best to head such a delicate thing off as soon as I could. I've been damn well in agreement with that oversized Reaper about the boy. But what you are sticking your delicate nose into is a family matter."

She recoiled visibly at his words. It was true, she had to admit, she didn't know exactly what had been said. She just had a very general idea of it. It was mostly Faeril's reaction that had made her jump in both feet. And now she was treading in very deep water. She pursed her lips and lifted her chin as Gen stood. She wasn't about to back down from such bullying behavior.

"Watch your tone. I'm not disagreeing it's a family matter, but you damn well brought it into the open."

It seemed Denvar was taking her side on this. So it must have been at least somewhat like she had thought. It could be hard to tell with the Eyrien language - it was as rough and aggressive as its speakers. She approached the table and set her drink down as Dareen passed by, saying something about getting air. Fatima offered an apologetic look to her back as she left. Well, she was knee deep in the shit now and without a rope to hoist herself out. The best she could do was attempt to de-escalate tempers. Including her own.

"I am not saying this conversation was something that shouldn't have been had. I am saying that you have put us in an awkward predicament by having it here. You should be careful." Now wasn't that the pot calling the kettle black? She swirled her finger around in the beer which filled her mug. It was cool and bubbled imperceptibly against the digit. With a frown she looked up at the pair of Eyriens. "And you should be gentle." Definitely not a word in the Eyrien repertoire but it was something as important to learn as bashing in heads. "A Witch can only be as strong as her foundation." She removed her finger from the drink and watched the pair of men, wondering what sort of reaction she would get next. She nearly jumped out of her skin at Mikhail's touch. Little scream she tried to clamp hands over and all, as she turned to look up at the man wide eyed.

"I... am not good with those kind of things and I don't know what I should say to help Faeril... She also doesn't seem to want my presence but you might be able to do that which I cannot. I think it would be better if you stood by her side..."

She lowered her hands from her face as he spoke, concern knitting her brows. She took the cup, surprised to see ice inside of it with the ale. An interesting combination. Perhaps the fellow didn't imbibe much. She offered him a small smile before nodding. She glanced at the two Eyrien men again before leaving them to bicker among themselves if they chose. She approached the bar and ordered something much stiffer than ale and then Fatima left the Inn to find their Black Widow.


Location: Winton




Fatima sipped her drink and listened carefully to the barmaid. She noted down the meager directions she gave her and quirked an eyebrow upward with interest when she told her not to mention her name. Lady Alice, eh? And the woman she was sending her to was, in not some small way, close to the Queen. Well, so to speak. It was unknown whether the great Lady Alice would deign to give her time to some plant pusher. Fatima simply smiled and paid the woman for the drink. "Thank you kindly, I'll keep that in mind." She spoke with good humor in her voice.

She turned as a row began between Faeril and Gennar. Fatima's smile turned to a frown as she watched, listened, and attempted to understand what the argument was about exactly. She absently leaned down to pat Dunny on his cute, fluffy head - as if to assure him that all was well despite the voices becoming raised. The end of the argument left Fatima feeling like she too had been slapped, though none of it was directed at her. Fatima admittedly knew nothing about Faeril or that she may or may not have a son. She also didn't speak Eyrien. She did, however, understand loss, and felt passionately about the way Gen had decided to go about reminding their Widow of the impending loss of Thom. At least, she assumed that was what he was saying. Not the place. Not the time. Not that she, herself was famous for her supreme tact. She did feel for the woman though; Gen's harshness striking discordant cords on her soul.

With a grim line pressed into her lips, she approached the group and looked between the four Eyriens. "May I ask why we chose to have this particular conversation here? In front of the whole Inn?" she asked with patience pulled so taught that a wrong answer was sure to break it. One could practically hear the twang of that wire plucked in the notes of her voice. "And why, exactly, you felt it necessary that Faeril hear that particular set of words in that particular tone of voice in this particular instance in front of near as well as complete strangers?" Her cold gaze was turned to Gennar now. She was not a pleased little Queen, quite evident in her posture and the ice dripping from her words.



Location: Winton




She watched Jandar go with a slight nod. She would never detain him. It simply wasn't her way, as she herself greatly despised being cooped up and kept hidden. That had been most of her life, unfortunately. She turned her attention back to the game, watching Dareen and Denvar with interest. Her hand continued to absently pet the dog. Dareen raised the stakes again and Fatima had to grin. What a brave woman to keep going in such a fashion. She must have had good cards.

Fatima set Denny on the ground and stood, stretching. "I need to use the loo, be back in a tick." She walked off in the direction of their rooms, hoping to find privacy there now that it had been quitted by Mikhail and Faeril. She entered the plain, simple quarters - nicer than some places she had stayed in the past - and made a bee-line for the bathroom. She closed and locked the door before turning to study her face in the mirror. Dark skin, light eyes, dark hair - all of her Hyallian traits so obvious. She shook her head and summoned a box.

With reverence, she opened the lid and peered into the jars of herbs which lived there. She pulled out a few, seemingly at random, checking their contents before putting them back. Frustration turned down the corners of her lips and furrowed her brows. She didn't have enough herbs left to make a proper potion. She tried to run a hand through her hair but only found a tangle of curls from which she had to free herself. Fatima vanished the box and thought long and hard. What was she to do? It would not be too long before her Moon Time started and she did not have any desire to awaken the protective nature of the Warlords. They were already wary and jumpy enough as it was.

Heaving a grand sigh, she exited the bathroom and made her way back down the stairs to the common area. She did not take her place at the table again. She went to the tavern owner instead and ordered a drink. And then asked him, on the sly, the best way she could get herbs in this town.


Location: Winton




Fatima patted the dog, watching the game progress. She followed Gen's gaze to Thom. The poor boy was trying to hard but the keg was obviously quite the thing for him to handle. She carefully set the dog on the floor as she went to help the lad. "I don't know. It's not safe with us." She said as she passed him. It was spoken with a light, matter-of-fact tone that did not indicate the darkness she felt regarding their situation. Fatima took an end of the keg and grinned. "You know, it is okay to ask for help. You need not carry a burden alone when you are among friends," she told the boy with kindness. She helped the boy carry the drink up to the room. She gave Faeril and Mikhail a small smile and wave before heading back down to the common area.

She took her seat back at the poker table and pulled the dog into her lap again. She was just in time to hear Dareen's question. "That's a bit complicated," she responded with a smirk. "I spent a lot of time dodging the servants to do what I wanted. I did not like getting bossed around. But there were people who dressed me and made my food and such. The usual fair. But when I was able to get away I learned how to do a lot for myself too. Nothing beats having someone draw hot water for your bath for you though. I can handle bugs and dirt and eating bread harder than a rock. But cold baths are just the worst." She wrinkled her nose as she said it.


Location: Winton




She was glad to leave the black jeweled male far behind them. The further away they got, the less she thought about him. And having the child and dog underfoot was a lovely and welcome distraction. Words could not do justice to the relief she felt in their being with her. She did her best to spoil and dote on the pair, perhaps overcompensating a bit for having considered their deaths as a viable option.

She spared no glance for the haughty Queen. To do so would be to acknowledge that she too had felt the spark of contention. Instead, she kept her mind on the little dog which trotted at her heels. She hadn't been allowed a dog growing up. Dogs were working creatures, tools to protect and guide the sheep. A Queen could not be seen with a tool of the common man. Fatima especially loved that she could talk to Dunny. His delightful conversation kept her from wallowing in self-loathing. He helped her see the brighter things in life.

They made it to the inn without incident and she was grateful. For once in her life, she was behaving. She did everything she was told to do for her Queenly protection and did not even attempt to sneak off once. Nor did she whine or gripe about Xandar going off and having fun without her. Nope, she had learned her lesson, for the time being, after her stupidity in Sharon.

Fatima looked over the cards in her hand. She had nothing. Absolutely nothing. She glanced at the other players in the group, considering her options before heaving a sigh and laying down the cards. "Fold," she said airly. She disliked losing and it would seem luck was not on her side this day. Had it ever been, she thought with sarcasm. She leaned back to watch how the round would play out. Denny lay in her lap and Fatima was bolstered by this fact. She couldn't be too sad when there was a puppy to pet. She scratched him behind his ears and bent down to kiss the top of his head.







Location: Sharon, Shalador




Fatima, full of relief and joy, walked her way back into the campsite. She grabbed herself a little breakfast and sat next to Thom. She offered him one of her fine smiles. "Have I told you my name? I can't remember. Fatima, nice to meet you." She held out a hand briefly to shake before shoveling some food into her mouth.

Thom looked distinctly nervous and bashful when Fatima sat next to him. Being a young boy next to a powerful woman who held his life in her hand and having been found out by Jandar hadn’t exactly helped his confidence that he could slip away. Not that he would have been able to, Dunny was off playing fetch with another woman and Thom couldn’t leave his friend. Guilt was knawing at him for Dunny’s mistake, but he had told the Sceltie about the danger! It wasn’t like Dunny had risked himself without knowing what he should have done! The stupid mutt just- Thom cut his thoughts off as he nodded to the Queen. It wasn’t fair for him to blame Dunny. He should have gone along with the Sceltie. ”Thom… I’m Thom Moorson.” Or at least it was the family name his mother had given him in the Red Moon house he had grown up in. Twisting the strand of dried grass in his hands the mix raced boy grimaced slightly. ”I- I warned Dunny to stay away from people, Lady. I really did.” His tone was that of someone who was grieving for a mistake they thought they could fix while certain they should never have been blamed for it.”I won’t say I’m sorry. A man’s gotta do what we gots to, but I- I didn’- I wouldn’t tell anyone you were out here. I saw you all at the bookstore…” He stared at the ground looking utterly bashful as he trailed off uncertain if he was digging a larger hole for his corpse.

She watched him as she chewed, fiddling. When he was done she said, "It's alright little one. Fret not. Our desire is not to harm you. And even if…" she trailed off a moment deciding against saying the next thing. She didn't want to give the poor dear nightmares, even if the thought lived in the back of his mind.

"Since we have now become aquatinted we will be taking you and Dunny somewhere safe. You cannot stay here. Have you eaten yet?" She asked as she took another mouthful of food.

Thom shrugged absently and gave Fatima a startled look. ”Take us where?” There was worry there, reasonable considering the state of the Realm. ”I don’t need puttin’ anywhere!” He protested, looking sullen about his defeat.

"To a friend, so you will be safe, and warm, and well-fed." She said this last part pointedly as she filled the bowl with food and shoved it into his hands. "I can't and won't leave you to be hurt by anyone. Especially on our behalf. So, I'll make sure you're taken care of. Whether you need it or like it or not." She pressed a fork into his hand. "Eat, please. Don't make me have to feed you."

“Yes, Lady.” The young lad said meekly as he obediently began to eat what he had been given with the gusto of a young Blood male. Which is to say, with a bottomless stomach. Giving a sideways look to Fatima, Thom swallowed the meat that sung of wonderful flavors and gave a slight pessimistic shrug. ”What if where you leave me isn’t safe? Why can’t I stay? People say a lot of things in front of me without thinking. Not the Prince. Dunno what folk have against him, but he aint so bad less you cross him.” It seemed safe to talk to this Queen, even about the gossip of the back alleys and streets. Plus, if he could prove he was useful perhaps he could stay about. He didn’t know why exactly, but he liked this Queen even if her being a Queen induced a quiet terror in him.

"The Prince?" She inquired gently. It felt like the bottom dropped out of her stomach. She hoped against hope he didn't mean him.

Thom looked hesitant as he nodded slowly. ”Prince Sadiablo. I don’t know him. I saw him go into the bookshop afore you last night. He was nice enough, gave me a silver mark.” The boy looked utterly dreamy even admitting it though he shifted uneasily. As if she might take it from him or shake him for answers about the infamous Warlord Prince.

"Ah," was her reply. So it was him after all. Shit. "Well, I also have a nice Prince. And he has assured me this person would be very safe. And if you aren't treated well you can rest assured that my Prince will take this person's head. I won't let any harm come to you little duck." She reached out and ruffled his hair gently before pulling her hand back as if she had touched flame. "Sorry."

The ‘little duck’ blushed slightly as the older woman ruffled his hair. Shrugging slightly he looked away. ”’S fine.” He muttered embarrassed by his flushed cheeks. ”The big one wanted to put me in the ground. Anyone could tell that. We’ve had a few Eyriens in the Red Moon-” The boy pointed out surly about the fact the Warlord Prince was a Eyrien warrior. They tended to want any possible problem dead. Not that he didn’t believe the Queen, Dunny had spoken to her after all. But his mother’s Red Moon house had catered to a few and they had left… a mess behind them. One that was impossible to clean up. For all it seemed this ‘nice’ Prince was trying to be helpful he wanted to toss the lad to the unknown which Thom was not a fan of. To be fair he had been a tad bit curious about the pointed ear man- Mikhail his name was?- til this tidbit came up.

"Mmmm, it's true, Eyriens can be rough around the edges. Especially mine. But he's a good lad. He wouldn't hurt you. None of the boys here would hurt you. Because I ask it. And because Faeril would probably make them eat their balls if they did." She chuckled softly. "Now eat up. We'll get to leaving soon and we may not stop for food in a long while."

”Lady?” The word was timid as Thom studied the bowl shyly. ”I don’t mean to be prying, but you talked to the Black?” He gave her a look that was innocent of any malice if perhaps overly curious.

She stiffened as she turned her gaze upon the boy. Why would he possibly want to know about that? The look of innocence in his face told her that he meant no malice by it. The din of the camp died away as all of her concentration was on Thom. "Yes, I did."

The fear seemed to seep away from the boy. ”Oh.” It seemed that satisfied the boy more than anything else could. Enough he gave her a timid smile seemingly unaware of her sudden stiffness.

And it seemed that was it and she was not going to question it. If he had no more questions for her then she had no more answers. She relaxed and smiled again. "I hope we get to know each other well during our journey," she said. And with that she went about her business of packing the camp away. Erasing all evidence of their existence.








Location: Sharon, Shalador




She exited the ramschackle home and looked over at the fire. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon and she felt panic in her chest. It weighed heavily on her, this decision. And it had to be done quickly. She clutched at her rumpled shirt, her fists balling at her stomach. Her knuckles had turned white with how hard Fatima held the fabric. She paused, taking deep, calming breaths as she let the veil of Queen slip over her. Bright white-gold eyes pierced the group with benign calm. A calm she didn’t feel. A storm raged in her stomach. She wanted to vomit.

“Xandar. Jandar. May I borrow you please?”

“Yes, of course, my Lady. I suppose we are moving somewhere more private,” Jandar stated.

Xandar had just finished eating himself and serving everybody, caught up in his work as he heard his name called. The Queen’s touch and kind words say troubled with him, and he hadn’t replied, but it seemed Fatima wanted to speak with him. Not in particular him, but, he could guess what this was about. Summoning on his usual attire, weapons withheld, he nodded silently as he vanished the cooking wear he was just using.

She nodded to Jandar's statement. "Bellinar," she called, the choice of the Eyrien stemming from Mikhail’s stepping away, “keep an eye on the boy and dog please." Satisfied this would be done she turned on her heel and walked toward the center of the village. Wiping a hand over her face, she turned, sad eyes now upon the two men. "I am at a crossroads and I request your advice. The way I see it there are but two things we can do with this boy." She took a shaky breath before forging on. "We either take him with us or we kill him."

She disliked how many times she'd said the word. 'kill him' today, especially since it involved a child. But this world did not allow for kind phrases often. The words had left her lips sour and she now pursed her lips and looked toward the forest at the village edge some way off. Her arms wrapped about herself as if to keep off a chill. "I spoke with Faeril about this already. She said she would be willing to take responsibility for the boy. She does not have the energy to wipe his mind. But, I do not want to make a final decision without your thoughts on the matter."

Jandar followed Fatima quietly, concerned. He raised both brows in disbelief when he finally heard what was on her mind. So, the Queen had been considering an action as dire as murder. He hadn’t been certain she had it in her. Though the mere thought left her obviously shaken, which was better than the alternative. The Warlord stepped near her, and put a bracing palm upon her shoulder.

“The boy has a Kindred’s trust. I say we keep them. I have no wish to kill innocent children, nor is it necessary if he chooses to follow our directives. He seems like a smart lad, so I believe he will cooperate with us if we give him the option,” Jandar offered his opinion. “Besides, if we got rid of him, we would be subject to the ire and distrust of a Kindred, which would not be a good position to be in,” he added, a tad more lightly, though it was one of his concerns - just not the most important one.

She listened patiently to Jandar's statements and gave him a sad, wry look. Didn't he see the kindred would have to be dealt with too? Fatima was beginning to feel evil.

Xandar followed quietly along, crossing her arms and waiting for the others to speak. He listened carefully, having a feeling this was to be about the boy and his dog. Quite the annoyance, really, it was not ideal for them to have been caught up in such trivial things when they were on their way to leave to much more important matters. After hearing both of them, he sighed and he himself spoke up.

”A rather… annoying predicament thrown into our laps. I’ve traveled on the run before, and as much as it is kind to help those in need, we can’t keep picking up strays. As for my kind, the strong survived. It would be rather difficult to bring along those two. They offer little use, take up resources, and make it much more difficult to hide and move. It’s dragging around very dangerous dead weight. A war is no place for them.” Xandar said very coldly, before looking back to where the group was and running a hand through his hair. ”However, how much better are we if we simply kill them? If it was my decision, a swift death to them both would be better for both parties. Almost a mercy to them, really. But if my Queen demands it, I will protect them. We can take them along, at least for now, until other options arise. If we do keep them, Faeril better keep those two thieving street rats under control and not get us all killed or worse.” he muttered the last part out, gripping his neck to where a collar would surely be placed on him. ”Above all lives, the safety of my queen comes first.”

She shouldn't be, she knew in her heart she shouldn't be, but the corners of her lips turned up with the slightest smile at Xandar's remarks. A small wave of relief crashed over her in knowing that someone else saw what she saw. The child may need to be killed. She was beginning to feel crazy for thinking it much less saying it. But she wasn't the only one.

Fatima sighed and tried to run a hand through her curls but only found the mess of knots. How appropriate to the situation. A mess of knots. She detangled her hand from her head before she spoke again. "Let's say we were decided on keeping the child, I have not made the decision yet to be clear. But let's say we did, how would we ask him? If he were to say no then… we would need to take care of him. We could not say join us or die though. It's not very sporting."

“War is no place for them, huh? This war will involve the whole of Terreille. So, what will those with no place in a war do, roll over and die?” Jandar commented with a shrug. “But I get what you’re both getting at,” he waved a hand dismissively, preemptively deflecting unneeded bickering. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t just be upfront about our dilemma to the kid. He joins and cooperates or he dies, it’s that simple,” Jandar stated. “Not sporting to tell him exactly that? Then what would you call killing him? What a joke,” he scoffed. Fatima visibly winced as if she'd just been slapped.

“Well, if it comes down to it, I frankly don’t mind, just try not to get so muddled in your means that your ends cease to be valid, Queen.” Jandar rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable with the direction things were starting to go in. They’d all made such a mess in this town already, and now they were collectively getting tripped up over a pair of unwitting thieves? It seemed fairly senseless to him. As Mikhail had said, and as he himself knew very well, Jandar’s own actions with SaDiablo had been the most reckless and were the ones most likely to have dire consequences for them all. So, if they were killing anyone for being a risk, shouldn’t he be the first to go? The Warlord shook his head, smiling wryly at his thoughts. It seemed like the Dea Al Mon’s words had got to him more than he’d imagined possible.

Xandar pinched the bridge of his nose, listening to the conversation turned into a small argument. All this trouble over a boy. And the one who was defending his life was the most argumentative. As much as the Warlord Prince didn’t want to kill innocent children, the life of one is worth ultimately less than the life of several. ”A battlefield, Jandar. The men come to the battlefield to protect children, but if you’d like to hand one a battle axe and tell him we’re thinking about killing him, go for it. You’d make a wonderful father.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

Stretching his shoulders he looked at his Queen, who seemed conflicted on how they were going to approach this issue to the child. ”Alright, frankly I’m done bickering, and there’s no right or easy way to do this. Nobody is wrong here. It wasn’t our fault we were put into this mess with those thieves. If we need to compromise, we can take the child to one of my contacts that we’re heading off to. He’d be displaced far enough and in good enough hands, that if he were captured for information, it’d be too late otherwise. It’s not far, lower risk, and then we’re done with him. But if he causes more trouble than he’s worth, the decision will be much easier next time.”

There it was, she was being offered the light at the end of the tunnel. She perked up, her face beaming with the possibility. "Would that really be okay? You could do that Xandar? I think that would be a grand middle ground. Thank you!" She crossed the distance between them and threw her arms about his waist in a hug. "That should work." She removed herself from his person and looked to Jandar. "I am glad you have not yet experienced the full evils of our world. I know it will not last, with your staying with us, but I am glad you do not yet know it."

She began toward the encampment, walking backwards so she could still keep her boys in her sights. "I will let the child know of our decision. Thank you both for your help." She turned then and scurried off.

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