[b]Chen![/b]

The mangroves and rainforests of the Terraced Lake's archipelago surround you, a latticework of thick and tangled roots weaving into and out of each other. The trees are thick and heavy with fruits and the tropical birds who eat those fruits, and they are not quiet or dignified eaters. The birds take one bite of a fruit and drop the rest on the ground so they can screech at the top of their lungs at nearby birds for some avian slight. And while their cacophony of yelling is not yet echoed in your mother's voice you can feel the potential for it to start.

"Chen. I [i]asked[/i] you to call me right as sunset started. Did something delay you?" There's an edge to Princess Hesha's voice, but she's giving you the benefit of the doubt. She's open to the possibility you have a good excuse but is prepared to move decisively if you don't.

[b]Rose![/b]

In a different age, twilight would be a moment to rest and reflect on the journey, a time to prepare camp and gaze out over the mountains at the setting sun. Nowadays it seems like it's always twilight, and so twilight is a time for walking too. You come over the crest as the river falls away into a waterfall below you, standing high up on sheer and rocky mountains, overgrown with blooming yellow mountain flowers just so lightly dusted with snow. Little creeks run through the rocks, slivers of fire in the fading light, narrow enough to step over - if you do not have to crawl on your belly. The Scales of Meaning winces and mutters dark oaths every time she touches one.

"I seek -" she starts, and then closes her mouth and pouts at being invited to reveal a valuable secret. Her horns glitter and pulse with electric light and she sighs as she realizes that you do not value it enough to respond to her withholding it with anything other than mockery. Reluctantly, she instead takes the opportunity to express a little displeasure. "[i]Nobody[/i] cares about you, Rose. You have tucked yourself away and rendered yourself as financially and politically irrelevant as a shipwreck, a washed-out old hulk only valuable to pearl divers. Only [i]I[/i] see your value, just like I'm the only one who sees the value of the shepherdess Yue." She sniffed haughtily. "This is a veritable antiques road show of hidden treasures and the appraiser lives in the arbitrage."

[b]Yue![/b]

Bait was offered and accepted, and just like the secret to catching flies is slow and steady motion so the wolf languidly pounces. She uncoils herself from the ground and steps up to you, taking your sword in fine fingers. She smiles because the wooden weapon is amusing, but there's only affection and gentle teasing and no contempt at all. "A wooden weapon can teach you bad habits," she said, turning it over in her fingers. "The weight is wrong, and the balance, so a real sword will feel wrong if you're used to this..."

She runs her fingers around it, brow crinkling in concentration. She's doing that same motion she did when she was casting her flight spell but slightly different - and then she gets it wrong. The magic sparks and breaks, but almost before you have time to process that she mucked it up she did the same motion again twice more with exceptional speed. On the third try it sticks, and oh, isn't the most remarkable part of all this that she just screwed up a spell twice in front of you without so much as blushing? Wouldn't it be great to learn that magic too?

"Here," she said, putting the sword in your hand and folding your fingers around it. It's heavy! And in all the wrong ways! "I adjusted the weight, this is what a real sword feels like to hold," said Hyra, stepping around behind you. "While we travel, I want you to keep this in your hand no matter what you do. Cooking, cleaning, eating, walking, I want you to get used to holding this even if it means doing other tasks one-handed. Can you do that for me, Yue?"