Alaric listened very casually as the old man spoke his piece. With nothing but his strength of will, he held his face in the form of a passive observation; in actuality, his inner emotions were beginning to simmer with every word he understood. That the Order had performed such actions on nothing more than a rumor was inexcusable, nothing short of a travesty and a mockery of justice. Were it not for the ever-increasingly angry mob and the Order outnumbering them three to one, he very likely would have engaged them immediately to stop the madness by force. However, as things stood, direct combat was the very last thing they wanted. Moreover, based on what the old man had told them, there was an innocent little girl whose life hung in the balance, and they were her only hope for survival. Open action would only serve to end them and condemn the girl; they would need to employ subterfuge if they wanted to save her and get out alive. And subterfuge would mean they would largely depend on…

A serious of whistles not at all unlike a bird song struck Alaric’s ears. To anybody else, it would’ve been something brushed aside and paid no regard to. But it was far more than a simple mockingbird’s tune to those notes. Kotori and he had devised a variety of codes to communicate between themselves when they were younger, and strengthened the codes further still with multiple sleepless nights at the Tower. To his ears, the melody that flew from her lips was as comprehensible as if she’d stood next to him and spoke plainly in his ear.

[i]Two targets, north of your position. Invading houses. Crowd nearby. Ready to strike, give signal.[/i]

Alaric’s mind whirred as he processed what was said. The two targets she mentioned must have been Order members leading the barbaric hunt for the little girl, and the crowd behind them had likely been worked into a frenzy given current evidence. In his head, he went over what needed to happen and how. Firstly, they needed to locate the girl. That alone took absolute precedence. Once they knew her location, they could pick her up and ride away without trouble. That was his preference, as a fruitless search of the town would besmirch the Order’s reputation, possibly even cause the townsfolk to turn on them. However, if a clash with the Order proved inevitable, diversion and misdirection would have to be their greatest allies. And they were far more in Kotori’s employ than his or Tegan’s. 

Alaric nodded to the old man and maneuvered his horse more toward the middle of the road, slowly so as to not draw more eyes than he already had. Then, he began to slowly and methodically pick at various hairs, blades of grass, brambles, and other such flora that had stuck itself in his shirt sleeve- or so it appeared. In reality, he was sending his reply to Kotori through another code, this one based on the locations of his pluckings and the hand motions that followed them. Through this, he informed her of the little girl, their goal of locating said girl, and the particular need for her to be ready to engage from nowhere if needed. Then he turned to Tegan and spoke to her.

“Come my friend, let us ensure we do not interfere with the work of these good men.”

As he dismounted and began to lead his horse to a nearby trough, he could only hope his other Guardian was wise enough to read past the sleight of voice. Tegan was a seasoned veteran who had seen combat against Malfear’s barbarians, and Alaric dared not presume to try and direct her; he trusted that she would know what she needed to do when the time came. As he led his horse to water, he employed the noble beast as a screen to hide his actions and dipped both of his hands into the water of the trough. When he withdrew them, rubbing them together like a man washing his hands, he was actually tuning the liquid to his magics and concentrating very hard on the small amount that began to congregate in his palm. With a deep breath, he cast his focus and will toward the tiny puddle.

Construct Magic, he’d been told by Maester Silvius, was only alike to normal manipulation of the elements as forging a sword was like wielding one. If he wished to control the water directly, he need only a simple thought such as “forward,” “up,” or “surround” to project through his magic into the water. For a construct however, he needed to picture a much more vivid thought. He needed a picture of what he wished the construct to do, what he needed it to be capable of, and what shape he wished it to assume. “Detail and purpose,” Silvius had instructed again and again, “are absolute when dealing with constructs. If you are not sure what you wish, your construct will know even less. You are doing more than directing the water; you are imparting a piece of your will to it to act as its will. Therefore, your purpose must be strong and your details beyond question.” And so it was. As the pool began to split into three smaller pools, still in his palms, Alaric began to send his will into each of them. 

[i]”There is a girl here, hiding in the town. She is alone, she is afraid, and she needs our help.”[/i]

As his thoughts went toward the water, each of the three pools began to take shape, taking the form of small ovular bubble-like objects.

[i]”She must be found before the Order finds her.”[/i]

Now small amounts of water began to grow from the ovals, becoming legs, tails, wings, and feet.

[i]”Search every house.”[/i]

Now the heads grew, each oval developing an shape that resembled a tiny creature of the earth.

[i]”She MUST be found.”[/i]

Alaric felt part of his conscious, three tiny parts of it, fade away briefly as if a string had been attached to them and pulled taught before being cut. When he looked at the pools again, they had taken the forms of a grasshopper, a lizard, and a hummingbird in his hands, all made of water and all less than an inch in height. He closed his hand around the three, so that they were surrounded by his body and his magic, and issued one final word to them through his thoughts.

[i]”Go.”[/i]

And with a downward shake of his hands he released the three of them to hunt through the town. The grasshopper coiled its watery legs and leaped from house to house, the lizard slithered its way across the ground and up through the floorboards, and the hummingbird flitted through the air. And Alaric waited as patiently as he could, tending to his steed as if nothing was out of the ordinary as he waited for one of two things to happen; either his constructs would find the girl, report back to him, and they could then decide how to reach her, or the Order would find her and force their hand. Either way, try as he might to stay calm and aloof, he couldn’t help but keep a hand near both the hilt of the sword at his hip and the lid of the water gourd not half a foot from it on his belt…