Hazel wraps both his hands around the cup. Doesn’t even think about it. It’s a reflexive response to Hot Drink. When too hot to warm belly, warm hands instead. Breathe. Take it easy. Savor the good drink smell. Think about how good it’ll taste in just a moment, once it’s cooled off some, once there’s a warm hug resting cozy in your belly. No chugging now or you’ll burn your tongue. Nice, slow, delicious sips.

(Cocoa is his very most favorite drink. A superior refreshment. Cider, he doesn’t have too often, but it’s up there. He’s very stubborn about switching to iced oat milk lattes in the summer. Even when he’s sweating on his way to the coffee shop, there’s a part of him wondering, well, it’s not *that* hot, is it?)

He’ll talk in a minute, he needs his breath to blow on it. So he sits, and he curls up, and he wiggles his tail silly, because he forgot just how nice it felt to hear that name. “I’m fine, I’m fine, what about everybody else?” Sip? Siiiip? Oooh, that’s the good cider. “...no, wait, Thellamie Ball. This sort of thing happens, doesn’t it? Dragons and getting kidnapped and such. Right, yes.” Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip. “Well, we should still make sure everyone’s alright. Could you get word to Miss Yaz? And, tell her to let everyone know I’m okay and not-kidnapped too.” Sip. Sip. “And that I’m not mad!”

Sigh. Hug the cup close to his chest. Still quite full.

“I may need a minute to finish this? If that’s alright? I can get some more later if not, no worries.”

Handmaidens!

Chip damage is a concept from Yukisearth in which constant small attacks can overwhelm incredible defensive prowess.

In the midst of the blaze, the Khatun stands, nearly toppled from chip damage. Tattoos roil across her body, sigils of the Demon Queen Miaou. The sort of dramatic reveal that would not have happened had someone not thrown several hundred Explosive Flasks at her. She advances like death. Yes, death, that's exactly what she advances like. Not like mayhem, rushing and furious, but slow and deliberate.

But she's limping.

It's like the Kel monk Xeno and his famous Paradox: if a tortoise closes half the distance between it and an honorable foe it wishes to stab with a tortoise-sized knife every time it is tapped on the shell, it will never reach its opponent so long as it is tapped on the shell over and over again. It is exactly like this paradox. Every time she closes half the distance, she is hit by another Explosive Flask. And eventually, she starts taking a half-step back every time another explodes against her chest.

Her eyes mirror the inferno around her. Her clothes are glowing with heat. She is losing herself to a raging fury. She is--

The ballroom floor is flooded with sweet-scented brown tea. The Nagi proprietor of the Chrysanthemum is on an upper level, directing her staff to upend a rune-bound tub of tea which has no bottom at all. Ironically enough, a gift from a former Heron. And the tea comes in waves. Enough that the Khatun is knocked from her feet and stumbles into the tea with a sizzle. It cascades over the sides of the ballroom platform and crashes into the hot springs below, and soon the entire building is full of the scent of it, warm and comfortable and soothing.

"If we can't play nice with the Golden Fawn," Yaz declares from above, "we don't get to play at all."

Sayanastia still stands where others have fallen or are wading through hip-deep waves of tea.

I believe that Yaz takes a String, as well. Ah, dear me.

---

Yuki! Eclair!

I will be short and sweet, like the tea. You emerge into waterfalls of tea and billowing, delicious clouds of steam that are beginning to fill the lower levels of the Chrysanthemum. It is the sort of ridiculousness that is disarming, I think - to have to admit to oneself that this is still a world where this sort of thing can happen.

It is the sort of environment where it is easy to slip away, but it is also the sort of environment where it is easy to linger - and easy to run into someone else trying to navigate through the steam and the rushing, swirling tea all about.

---

Hazel!

Someone, somewhere, is making a great big rushing noise. It's soothing. It's like a relaxation song file off a tablet. Have you gotten into the music-sharing scene here? You simply must indulge.

Alcideo curtseys with lethal precision and saunters out, being sure to close the door behind him. Someone, somewhere, is still making the sound of running, rushing water. And it's not your problem right now! Sure, you'll have to go out there soon, and probably declare the winner ASAP, and...

Oh, you're still not sure who the winner is, are you? And you could be here all night - you could be here two nights - and there would still be people desperately trying to teach you how to do the can-can in hopes that they would get to win.

It's not fair, I know. But do you really think that tonight has been a success? Do you think you can do this again and again and again?

Maybe you should go and ask Civelia for help. She's supposed to be here tonight, after all.

What sort of tea is that?

This is going to bother her forever. She should know. It should be blindingly obvious. Is it new to her? Is that the problem? But then why does it feel so obnoxiously familiar? It could just as easily be a plain and uninteresting assam as it could be some mystic wonder of the ancient world that even the Aurorae would struggle to remember. It's annoying! It's stupid!

It's... delicious. Eclair cannot help herself but take an extra deep sniff of the hallway with every step further forward into the mist. Were such a thing not unbecoming of a maid-knight (or a mysterious masked hero) she might be salivating. As it happens it is utterly unbecoming and she is walking in accordance with strict decorum, but she does feel her first pang of regret at spending her entire requisition budget in one place.

"Yuki Edogawa. The technique you seek is simple in theory: I can teach it to you within the span of a single evening."

Yes, this is good. Technical talk. Distracting, soothing. Better almost than the tea. Better by three times or more, in fact, because the tea itself is silly. To the point where it nearly staggers her. If she contemplates what has happened in her absence at all she will stumble into a wall and lose herself to either laughter or crying, or else both in rapid succession and regularly trading turns.

It is the very sort of phenomenon that, if she contemplates it for too long, if she even considers writing any of this down in her journal, she will shatter on the spot. Because it is proof that had she not intervened, the world might have thwarted Timtam by itself. That far from being a hero or even a useful knight, she is and will remain utterly irrelevant. That she is not outside the flow of whatever concerns the world considers its 'main events' because she chooses to seek other truths, but because nothing in her mind matters at all. Every case might solve itself without a detective. Ridiculous. Cruel. Possible.

This must never occur to her.

"But I shall be very surprised if I see even you manage it even once before we part ways. To understand and to achieve are separated by monumental levels of effort. But do not be discouraged; I will explain when we have arrived in the quiet and then you will understand. This is a crass observation, but I believe that in your current state you in particular are quite well suited to my variant of this--"

Her head is turned to the side, in an attempt at eye contact. Unusual for her, to not be watching her surroundings anyway. Unusual even in a mist of tea and the turmoil filling the hallways to not see someone coming. More unusual still for her reflexes to not kick in and pivot her flawlessly outside the realm of a collision she should not have known to dodge. But she did not look. And she did not see. And she did not get out of the way.

Which only leaves the impossible truth: that she has walked chest-first into another person without realizing it. Even after the moment of contact it takes several long seconds for the mistake to register. She begins to dip into a curtsy automatically and, with a wince, kicks herself out of the habit before she can ruin anything else. She dips her head into the tiniest of bows, instead.

"Apologies. I was... not... look...ing..."

Her throat is dry. Her knees have locked together and fused into immovable rods. No. No no no no, not here! Not now! Tomorrow! Or better yet, never! After the disaster from earlier how is she supposed to redeem herself without even a chance at preparation? Is there even a degree of preparation that could undo the disaster of her confession? It is antithetical to the role of a detective to believe so, but the evidence does not lie! And it concludes in no uncertain terms that she, Eclair Espoir, is an awkward in between specter caught somewhere between loser dork and complete monster. Which one she feels seems to change almost by the second.

The truth is inevitable. She cannot ignore the reality of whom she has uncharacteristically run into any more than she can force two and two to equal something other than four. And the woman here in front of her has the power to change everything, and must (must!!) be incensed beyond belief. The unsolvable puzzle. Her only clear superior. Here at the least opportune moment to deliver a deathblow she will not recover from.

At least she cannot think of tea anymore.

"M-Mayzie? I, I did not..."

Sayanastia!

It is time to leave.

The thought applies itself across the surface of Sayanastia's mind, light left by Heron bending its way around her thoughts. She has no plan and no objective; Rurik unleashed her to cause a distraction, and now he has fallen to an enchanted sleep. She is surrounded by superior foes. The environment has shifted to blunt the effect of her weapon. She has provoked a deadly foe into revealing a hidden ability. There is nothing to gain here and everything to lose. It is time to take Rurik and leave.

She can't. She can't.

She has never fled before. Every remotely comparable situation was other people fleeing from her. Heron fled from her often, avoiding conflict until she was ready. She is aware that the maneuver is useful but she still cannot conceptualize it. She has stretched herself so much recently. She has used a sword. She has used disposable weapons. She has gone so far from herself she can scarcely recognize herself, and now the world asks her to change again? She can't do it. She couldn't do any more character development today. Not without anyone to push her or guide her. The light blurred around the edge of the void of her mind and she relaxed back into herself.

She does not move forwards. She does not move back. She sets her feet over the sleeping Rurik, and stands immobile. She shall break or the world shall break itself against her. She is ready for her final stand[1]

[1] Though it would be a relief if nobody took her up on it. If everyone else retreated and left her the field by default. She knows how bad Heron's swordplay becomes in each new cycle, and she imagines that she is already in a vast skill deficit given how many times she has died without ever investing in improvement. To perish here would no doubt increase the debt of experience before she can even rise to baseline competence.

"Oh yeah, that makes sense, there's lots of stuff where the idea isn't that hard, but the execution is. Like learning a proper fencing riposte, you're working on a straight line so the idea of maintaining momentum from a parry is extremely simple but then it turns out that, like, you have muscles in your wrists and your arms and your legs that you just never use that way in normal life and so you have to build all of them up properly before you can get your body to do the thing that you think you understand with your head."

Yuki nods, and her ears bob happily. This is great. Talking shop is fun and there's some spirit in Eclair talking about this that makes Yuki's heart hurt less, and she just wants to...to focus.

Like, maybe Purnima Karn-Pana wasn't the right choice earlier. She doesn't regret trying to find something in the snake girl, there's still hope there, but it took like a week of "captivity" and a fling that she knows is grating at Suli's heart just to get a tiny glimmer of something from Purnima. Makes you wonder if she had made the best use of her time in Thellamie is all. But...no don't think about that, focus on Eclair. She nods along, flexes her own arms and wrists where she had worked so hard to build up her fencing memory, so different with a light foil than a huge axe. This...this is catching up with an old friend, and a special one at that.

Since Yuki is nattering on by herself, she barely notices before Eclair walks into this other girl apparently named Mayzie. She mentally kicks herself for not watching where either of them were going before doing her own double take at the fact that Eclair wasn't watching where she was going. Maybe things weren't that much better.

"Mayzie? Oh, do you know the mystery builder?" she asks smoothly. "She was just showing me through the hallways, after she helped save me from an assassin who...er...wait is that a state secret or anything? Um...haha, well, never mind, I'm sure Thellamie balls are filled with assassins doing all sorts of um...assassiny things. Anyway, the mystery builder was going to teach me a new technique to better defend myself and my charges as a knight. It sounds like you two know each other too! Well, my name's Yuki Edogawa. I was operating under a secret identity too but I got...uh kidnapped...yeah kidnapped for a little bit and was announced under my real name at the ball tonight so y'know, that's just how it is." Yuki holds out her hand for a warm handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, though! How do you two know each other?"

There’s a music sharing scene here? How? Oh, how does that even work? Tablets don’t have any sort of audio mixing abilities, so, no, hold on, how well could a tablet record the audio from another tablet? Has anyone tried that yet? Or is it all just people recording neat sounds and songs they make?

He’s never been a part of a scene before. Always thought it sounded like fun, a bunch of folks sharing art back and forth and everywhere, building, experimenting, sometimes making garbage but sometimes making good garbage. Never knew how someobdy joined one, though. They never seemed to be happening where he was, and nobody was writing down where they were or how to get in.

No. He doesn’t know. Who’s winning. Whether tonight succeeded in any way. How to salvage it. How to keep the next trial - because he can’t just declare a winner off tonight, he just can’t - from becoming a repeat of the first. What he could’ve done better. Where Yuki was. Where Juni was. Where Eclair was. Where Suli was. How to help Olesya. How to get into a scene. What he’ll tell Deo when he comes back in a few minutes, expecting him to know at least a few of those things.

Although. Well.

Hrm.

He does know. Where the door to the backways would be, if the new Chrysthanemum was anything like the old. Which rooms the highest guest of honor would be in. Who he has to thank for his brooch.

No, no, no, he doesn’t know if someone can just waltz up to a goddess and ask for advice. Well, no, not any goddess, but Civelia? Civelia. Civeliaaaaaaaaa. He did know of a story or three about average folks happening to chat with her, and walking away with some blessing or wisdom or shiny magical artifact that was just the thing they needed. Suli knew how deep a bow to make before a goddess, where someone ought to stand, what sorts of greetings would be appropriate, and he’d taken pretty careful notes. (Green notebook, maybe a third of the way through, starting from the bottom half of the page.) That’s not something you’d know if approaching Civelia for help was completely unheard of.

Him. Approaching Civelia. Him!!!

Of course, you know, it would be wildly irresponsible, and possibly panic-inducing, for the Golden Fawn to up and vanish into thin air on such an important and kidnap-happy night. Unthinkable. Couldn’t be done.

So he makes sure to write a short note to Deo, and then vanishes into thin air via the secret staff door.

Mayzie!

You’ve missed a lot tonight, haven’t you? No room for dramatic fights when you’re in the bathroom frantically trying to freshen up and catch hold of your thoughts careening about. And when you emerged into the tea-scented mists (which are, yes, tea mists, mists caused by the tea), you had a goal in mind. Your heart drew you closer to Eclair Espoir, and

And also Yuki of Yukisearth??

For a moment you stare at Yuki like a child who has met a clown for the first time: unsure of whether to bolt and run or break out into laughter. Not that you think Yuki is a clown. Civelia, no, of course not, ahahaha, she’s, not a clown at all, and, you cannot, given, the stakes of the heart, ask Eclair to organize the coat room while you swear Yuki to secrecy before you ask her to sign The Tale of Yuki and the Mirror Star, by her Two Bestest Friends. The collector’s edition. You know, the book which you have in the vault where you keep most of the other possessions you’ve managed to draw close to yourself, patiently awaiting the day when you have a new apartment.

But no! You must be strong, Mayzie! Be strong for Eclair! Do not be distracted by the siren song of Yuki Edogawa (wow) being here!

“Yes, the – the mystery builder. Who I have a message for. You asked me earlier if we should… travel together.” You cannot, absolutely cannot be as candid as you wished, because Yuki Edogawa is right here (is she looking at you (oh no she noticed you looking at her (the only way to fix this is to pretend you weren’t looking at her this is so smooth))). “I don’t know if we can… walk the same road together forever. But you need someone to walk with you at least until you… have solved… the problem we were talking about earlier.”

You offer your hand, fighting your hardest to look her in the eye (DO NOT GLANCE OVER AT YUKI (MISSION FAILED)). You are blushing. You are aware that behind her mask she is looking at you as intensely as she looks at every enigma, every puzzle, every ball of yarn. How can you hold up to her? How can you be worthy of her while she loves those dragons?

Why are you hoping, vainly, Mayzie, that she will choose you at the end of the adventure?

But you have to try. You absolutely must. If you were to walk away it would shatter you like glass. You have to try to love her.

“...my funds are at your disposal,” you say, with such incredible romance. “Let’s solve your problem.”

---

Handmaidens!

Aaaaand swap again, because one of you is going to run into Hazel “Chick Magnet” Valentine Fletcher on his way through the back corridors of the Chrysanthemum, the mazy staircases and closets where the staff are frantically working to get more tea, more fairy cakes, and more anti-Rot Star defenses at the ready.

Cards on the table, my dears: I think that this is where he gets to go on another adventure, not by his choice. After all, Juniper needs to be saved, and Eclair Espoir has a villain to pursue, and can you even imagine what it would be like for him to dance with Walking Elm? Simply ghastly.

Operation: Kidnap the Golden Fawn is go.

So who’s going to succeed where Rurik and Sayanastia have been having issues with the Very Unsubtle route?

"Hey, buddy," said Cair. She positively oozed charm as she lurched out of the shadows holding a crude wooden club. Despite the bulk of her coat, her essential thinness could not really be disguised, making this feel a bit like being menaced by a sassy child.[1]

[1] children are scary btw

"Buddy. Friendskip. Mate. You remember me? More importantly, you remember your debt? One million goldmarks? Well it's time to start seeing some return on that. I've got a job for you."

[Spending a string] And you know, don't you? Some part of this anxiety has been burning away in the back of your head for days and, regardless of your ability to defeat this greasy coatrack in hand to hand combat or the legality of a contract signed under unconscionable distress, you're not from here and you don't know how things work and - what if this goes on your permanent credit score? What if the next time you're in trouble nobody swoops in with a magical tiara to save the day?? You could be in trouble at any moment! You could be in trouble right now!![2]

[2] prrrr-obably not from Cair? She is trying very hard, and you know, she might be a wizard or something. But there's a basic vibe that's hard to move past that you could rest your hand on her forehead and she would be unable to punch you, and that makes it hard for her to be really intimidating.

Analyzing: words, posture, facial expression, heat level, eye contact.

Assessment: absolute embarrassment. Within expected rejection parameters. Unsurprising. Disappointing. But Unsurprising. Confession should be studied by scholars as one of the most severe crashes of all time. Nothing went correctly. Everything was awful. Everything has been awful ever since.

There, she has gone and said it. She does not wish to travel with me. Even a partnership is more than she can tolerate. As originally expected, my presence is an unwanted intrusion into her no doubt perfectly planned life. Naturally, after reconstruction efforts there would be considerable need for her talents to assist in restructuring and reorganizing Vespergift. It is clearer than quartz that she should want to remain in this place as long as she can. It is both selfish and unbecoming of my station to expect her to abandon that just for me.

...Why is she blushing like that? Doesn't that specific tone indicate personal embarrassment? Is she attracted to Yuki Edogawa? Very well. Then I should take this chance to organize the closet while she confesses the truth of her heart. A Maid's first duty is to--

"What did you... say?"

Eclair is agape. For the first time in a very long time she is utterly unable to contain herself (and it is a positive thing). Her hand lifts, half as if to ward off a blow and half as if she needs to grasp something to make it real. Her fingers stretch toward a promise and she realizes that they are trembling.

"...Mayzie! Yes! Together, yes! Thank you! Yes!"

Those trembling fingers have found what they wanted to grasp, and it's Mayzie's hand. She pulls it closer, so caught up in this moment that the impropriety is lost on her. Friends! She wants to be friends! Partners, even! That's so far beyond the realm of her analysis and calculations that it doesn't even occur to her to be disappointed she's been romantically rejected. A thousand thoughts come rushing into her mind all in a tumble, and she holds on to precisely none of them. What does it matter? She has a partner now!

She is smiling. Eclair is smiling. Oh, Aurorae. She is smiling. Not smirking or quietly reflecting or vaguely twisting her lips in a quiet, dignified way that renders her into an enigma, but full on grin-level smiling! She could almost hop, if that wasn't a level of shattered decorum too far for even this moment. Her eyes are similarly alight, to a degree that even through her mask it is possible to see them shining. Half with delight, half through tears that don't quite fall. Shimmering. Resplendent.

Overjoyed.

"You and I together, there is no challenge we cannot overcome! There are so many notes I need to show you! I've kept them color coded, just like we--"

She stops as though she'd run into a wall. She releases Mayzie's hand, and then clears her throat into her own fist. Now her posture is straight and her feet are planted as though to hold up the world. For now, just for now, she must show her strength. When there is time, when they are alone, she can see if this radiance can be pulled out of her a second time. But Mayzie asked to be friends and partners. She must show her professionalism.

"But that is, erm, f-for another time. I have promised Yuki Edogawa a lesson on swordsmanship, and I, ah. Did I neglect to mention she and I are acquaintances? She was of great assistance to me and I rendered what small aid I could in exchange. And we... ah."

She turns and offers Yuki a bow.

"I am forgetting myself. Milady, may I request we allow Mayzie access to the room you plan to use? Pleasantly scented though it may be, these mists are a sign of trouble and it is unbecoming of a knight to allow any lady to... that is, I would deeply prefer it if I knew that she was-- i-it is not a problem, is it?"

Eclair redoubles her efforts at standing as tall as possible. Her tail may be flicking at an uncontrollable pace, but that does not mean she is blushing. Understand? It would be impossible to tell anyway, so there.

Yuki giggles. Once. One time, single giggle. This is the most terrible slip up she has ever made. She cannot let on that she's imagining the two girls in front of her in a yuri manga trying to split an ice cream sundae at a food court and growing increasingly distressed as they each try to give the biggest piece to the other one and the sundae is melting and they're both blushing and...no. Everyone present here would die of embarrassment if they knew what Yuki was thinking about right now and that giggle was the greatest betrayal of her life, actually.

She clears her throat and dutifully listens to Eclair, and her ears definitely did not twitch nervously. Who even decided that cool cat ears would just twitch nervously on their own, what the heck?! "Y-yes, of course. It's just a short sword lesson, I wanted to learn how to split up my heartblade into different shapes and Ec-the mystery builder (get a hold of yourself Yuki) said she could teach me the principles really fast and then I can practice on my own. You're more than welcome, the room we were promised is from Sulochana, princess of Crevas, so I'm sure it's very spacious and has more than one couch in it, like basically guaranteed."

A pause. She's not quite sure what to say next. "S-so, um, please consider this my formal invitation to join us in our hotel room safe from the uh...rigors of the golden ball. For whatever...um...planning you might need."

The contract couldn’t possibly be enforceable. Nevermind that it was an agreement under duress, but it wasn’t even much of an contract. Technically speaking, it was a handmade sign that a random foxgirl in an oversized coat held up as he was passing. Yes, he did what the sign said, and yes, he received the promised magical relic, and yes, it was from the goddess of civilization, and yes, it did get him out of the situation(s) as promised, but still! Handmade sign! Random foxgirl! Passing hi-five! Obviously a silly fox being a silly fox. Up to shenanigans, schemes, and possibly some hijinks. And anyway the sign said terms were negotiable and every day he’s checked his DMs and every day there’s been nothing and so he’s in the clear.

This logic was theoretically sound. Ironclad. Unassailable. In practice?

…oh gosh, do Aestivali have their own debt collectors? It’d make sense, right? How else would Keli and Seli have hoped to get my wallet if I’d just refused back in Crevas? How would they get anything from anyone if their target could just call them out on a trick and leave? Or maybe it’s a curse? Ghostly foxes who come after you unless you skip town and change your name? No, Yuki would’ve told me about that. Unless…?

“Oh, yes, I do remember the debt. Haven’t forgotten, I just, didn’t have your contact information, and it’s been a bit of a busy few weeks, so I haven’t been able to get in touch with you.” Spiced cider, give him strength! “What sort of job is it, exactly? This isn’t a great time, I might not be able to help out right away, depending on the job. If I just vanished now, half of Thellamie would come chasing after me. Not very conducive to getting jobs done.”

“Oh! And, fair warning, you may want to be careful with that club. If you attack me, I’m pretty sure you’ll be wrapped up in chains, put to sleep, and/or otherwise cursed. Not really able to stop that right now,” he adds apologetically. See? He’s being reasonable! Helpful! There’s no need for aggressive negotiating tactics. Or foxgirl loan sharks. Or foxgirl loan ghosts.

"You look like you're doing thinking," said Cair, hopping up to crouch on the perfectly balanced stick so that she's nose level. "And I'd recommend you stop it. I know what you're wearing, how to counter it if I need to, and what you're going to drag around in your wake. I've done all the thinking already. All you have to do is be a good boy and follow some very simple instructions and a maiden will be rescued and the world will allegedly be saved. And that's a foxgirl promise!"

Everything has gone exactly as I have foreseen.

...well, that's what I would say if I were a villain, right, Sayanastia? That's what you say when you want a shiver to run down the hero's obliging spine, before she offers up one of her rote catchphrases (remember when it was just "schwing"?). It's what you say to convince yourself that you're in control of the situation and that no one can stop you now.

Fortunately, I am as humble as I am beautiful and clever and perfect. I am well aware that I didn't foresee any of this. Well, most of it. The Serigalamu contingent went about as well as could have been hoped. A boy got squeezed and squeaked uselessly about it. But an old man falling down from the ceiling? I'm not even going to say that I guessed that would happen, because I prefer not to tell obvious lies.

Still, I think the pieces have arranged themselves quite neatly. The Golden Fawn just so happens to be going off with a band of hero-support-staff to accompany two lovely girls on a quest to save a damsel in distress, given a perfect opportunity to see them at their best. And Eclair Espoir has met darling little Yuki when the maid-knight was at her lowest. Two neat narratives. And Civelia gone, to boot!

I will have to have her saved in the end, I think. A little nudge to Eclair, a dropped clue or two. It would be a shame to lose a counterbalance unless I had my own hand arranged properly.

---

TEAM QUEST

I think this will be the first time that the Handmaidens have assembled together in a little while, won't it? On a noble quest, even, one which requires Heron's touch. And with guest party members, who include:

• Hazel Valentine Fletcher, still wearing his gorgeous dress
• Alcideo of the Chrysanthemum, who neatly joined Cair and Hazel on their way out, because I am not letting my girls run off without support (and I suppose Hazel too)
• Keli, beautiful and heroic
• Seli, heroic and beautiful

You are not going through the Roads. You are going to have to cut through the Tanglewood, using the Golden Fawn as a stable waypoint in the midst of the Outside, in order to beat the Khatun to the Boar's Ossuary. The life of Sister Juniper hangs in the balance. You will have to set out from here, in the upper rooms of the Coachwoman's Arms, into the snow and the hateful forest that lies on the other side of Vespergift's walls.

So I suppose the biggest question is who attempts to convince these four companions that Heron is here and ready to lead the party? Who has it in them to even make the attempt?

(And I suppose the most sensitive question is what Hazel makes of these Handmaidens, all assembled, all pointing towards something that they lack in plain sight?)

(And also my daughters are very hot and they've incorporated magical charms of warding and protection into their outfits, and Keli is going to wrap you up in a big delighted hug, Hazelkins~)

---

TEAM RELAXATION

Mayzie wraps her hands around her spiked hot chocolate and lets out a little purr of satisfaction. This is one of the promises of Vespergift: that while it snows outside, you can still be safe and warm inside. There's a clever little window that lets you see out of the Ophidia Room and out onto the streets of Vespergift laid out below, and the snow swirls past this window as Eclair Espoir and Yuki Edogawa chirp together.

Mayzie is drinking in both of them, and trying and failing to look like she isn't. The giddiness of meeting a hero meets with the giddiness of having her feelings reciprocated by the most wonderful, frustrating, singular girl. She lifts her mug and gives herself a little mustache of cream as she sips.

Then she sets the mug down and, using notebook paper, begins to sketch the scene that is unfolding before her...

The scene is a sudden shower of sparkly rainbow fireworks, accompanied by no sound at all save for the thump of air caused by the annoyed flicking of a leopard's bushy tail.

Yuki sighs and pulls her heart axe out again, slowly and carefully, as she stands by the window and looks out at the snow. She pulls upon it, and it seems to thin in the center and almost stretch like someone blowing glass, but then it shatters again into a thousand rainbow sparks that vanish into the air.

"Damn it!" she says, putting a hand on the glass and taking a break. "When you said that the whole trick is reimagining your heart, I really did think it would be easy. Oh, all I have to do is imagine my heart manifesting into two pieces. But that sounds like a broken heart, and I've never really had a broken heart. High school flings don't count and when I try to think of how I felt breaking up with my last girlfriend all I get is this shower of sparks anyway. I was kind of hoping that it was gonna be like the Matrix and if I could just understand the right reality, then I could do whatever with it. But you weren't kidding when you said I could learn the trick but I wouldn't be able to do it, huh?"

Yuki sighs and rubs her head back and forth against the cool glass. It felt so nice feeling the cool, solid window against her fluffy ears. One of the coolest parts of being in Thellamie was having these way more sensitive kitty ears and the feeling of the glass against them was incredibly soothing. Maybe this is why cats back home always headbutted people back and forth.

"What does it even mean that the natural shape of my heart is a big axe instead of something more subtle and finesse oriented? Why can't I pick? Or why didn't it just change automatically when I trained on a thin sword and my whole body got comfortable with those motions? Why doesn't wanting something new with all my heart do the trick? Heartblades are really picky about which kind of heart they take account of is all I'm saying!"

She's not whining, really. She's just a little tired and there's something about trying this that makes her heart itself feel like it's getting a bit stretched out. She's not even sure if that was good or not, maybe it meant she was on the right track. Yuki picks up her head and looks over at her old friend supervising her and what she hopes is her new friend sipping hot cocoa. "Can you tell me what it's like for you, Eclair? Like, when you first learned to do this, to change up your heartblade to different forms, what were the feelings that let you change your heart this way?"

Eclair is leaning against a wall by the window with her arms folded across her chest, watching Yuki with a quiet little smile on her face. This? This is soothing. To train, to teach someone a skill that she possesses and they do not, this is worth a hundred VIP passes as far as relaxation is concerned. What could make her let her guard down, even for a moment? What could get her mind off of her mission? What could make her 'loosen up', so to speak? It is not riches, or luxury, or even flights of entirely too much sake. What else could it be?

A friend. Simple. Obvious. Nothing of lesser value could be worth setting a case aside for.

"Not a broken heart, Yuki Edogawa. That is a very different sensation, and you must not confuse what you are seeking for what you have said. A broken heart produces a broken heartblade. Naturally. I will not pretend there are not... applications for such a thing, but I cannot recommend it. The strength of will required to shatter yourself intentionally is already intimidating, but to put yourself back together afterwards? Without assistance? That would be the stuff of legend."

She pushes off the wall and walks toward her friend. This is important. The lesson is valuable, but what matters more is that at some uncertain time in the future she will receive a notification of a new missive on her tablet. And in that missive, Yuki Edogawa will be excitedly gushing that she'd figured this out, and would be thanking Eclair profusely for her efforts on this particular day in Vespergift. The praise itself is utterly immaterial, but the measurement of the Hero of Crevas' success against her own initial efforts will be worth more than all the treasures in Heron's vault. To have played a role in someone precious understanding something... what more could she even dare to dream of?

Without fanfare, with indeed hardly any motion at all she flicks her own heartblade out from her palm: the double-bladed polearm/twin-sword she had wielded when the pair first met. She twirls it like a baton for a moment before letting it settle on her shoulders.

"It is curious that it should take the shape of a weapon in the first place, is it not? One can think of Radiance as the heart's desire to exist. To protect itself, in other words, from forces that desire its cessation. From that perspective there really is no reason it should need be anything other than a mass of raw light. And yet that is clearly not the case."

Her smile is brighter than the light reflecting off the snow outside. Her notebook is tucked into a pocket of her jacket, currently folded and resting neatly on the back of an armchair on the far side of the room. Both are unneeded for this moment. She takes hold of her weapon in both hands at the middle, and pulls it apart until it separates into a pair of identical curved swords. An attempt at demonstration. She whirls these again in a dizzying display of agility before thrusting each of them into the floor at her feet. Position zero. She gestures with a now open hand.

"Then, let us examine them in more useful light. If you'll forgive the accidental pun. Ahem. So then, these are our hearts' will to remain inviolate, and as we know they take a highly specific state. The most useful compression of this data would therefore be to say that a Heartblade is the heart's conception of itself. Our identity, in other words, or to put it even more crassly than that our 'fighting spirit'. So to speak. And you can see intuitively that this is the case in the case of a duel: where once your heart has accepted the concept of its own submission to another's, the heartblade ceases to manifest. There is no competitive streak deep enough or mind stubborn enough to resume the dance once the heart has lost. I think that these are rather simple conclusions, but the implications of them are in fact quite difficult to consider or comprehend on a meaningful level."

She plucks a sword out of the floor and thrusts it hilt first into her hand, where it vanishes into her body until it is the size of a short sword, and then a dagger. She rolls the new weapon in her hand to show that despite the way in which she 'created' this weapon it is still whole, possessing a finished handle and grip. She plucks the second sword up and closes her eyes. The blade lengthens, as if accepting the edge of the sword she sacrificed, and now her weapons have taken the form of a short guard blade and a sword so long and slender it resembles more of a pole.

She flicks both arms and the swords return to their original length. She sticks them back together at the middle, and then repeats her summoning gesture with her now empty right hand, bringing forth an identical copy of her original heartblade. These, she does not showboat with. Holding them is enough.

"You asked me what it was like for me when I first comprehended this technique. The answer to that is simple to say and impossible to explain. I was training in the Manor, and through my lessons became frustrated at always being on the losing end of trades. Were they meant as simple training exercises, with no intended 'loser' in the first place? Quite naturally. But I could not see it that way. I became convinced there was more potential, more material, more... identity than my instinctive grasp could claim. Does that not seem obvious? We are born with all manner of defense mechanisms that increase in potency when we train them. If you stretch, do you not become more flexible? If you lift weight, do you not become stronger? And these become part of our identity, but surely they do not invalidate it?"

Eclair slams the two poleblades together, side to side. There is a flash of opalescent light, and she is holding a single weapon again. Slightly longer on each end, but essentially the same weapon in the end. Only, from each end of the grip there are two blades in parallel with one another. Space between them enough to trap and crush an enemy weapon, but close enough together that when they cut it comes with the sensation of a single, wide wound.

"This haunted me for years. Knowing I had more of myself to give did nothing to unlock it. Practice felt useless. Even changing who I thought I was turned out to be inadequate. You are, in the simplest terms, attempting to envision your heart in two or more distinct parts. This is what I told you to begin with, and I stand by these words. That is the crux of the technique.

"I also told you I believed you would be naturally inclined toward this. Did I not? That is because you are like me. I saw it when we were little more than children, and I see it now still. Yuki Edogawa, your heart is filled with different loves. You are pulled in as many directions as there are points to a rose, and for as long as you attempt to hold the center all you will receive in reward are these sparks. What did it feel like?"

Eclair lets her tail flick behind her. Her ears lift high on her head, and she flashes the tiniest, improper hint of fang when she turns her head to watch Mayzie absorbed in drawing everything in front of them.

"Like falling in love. Again, and again, and again. Not, I should clarify, in a romantic sense. That, I have only... ahem. But nevertheless, I have fallen in love. And every time, I become aware that my heart is larger than I thought it was. It takes more hands to hold it all."

She snaps her fingers, and her weapon dissipates into pearly motes of glitter. She offers Yuki a grin.

"Yuki Edogawa. Would you find it useful to see what blade you became?"

"Literally cannot believe I didn't get to blow up that mansion," said Tsane.
"Cowabummer," said Injimo, nodding.
"Imjimo's right, you are being absurd," said Rurik. "We need to -"
"What? No!" said Injimo. "I was agreeing with her."
"With her desire to fight a castle garrisoned by an army of Maid Knights!?"
"Look, Mr. Vesari, sir," said Injimo. "I fight, like, single combat duels and sometimes those enormous animated doll standins for monsters you make, right? Well, Ms. Tsane's area of expertise is fighting armies and/or castles. She could have taken 'em."
"And now here I am with ninety five percent of my skin taken up by the rune for Meteor Storm," sighed Tsane, gesturing at the elaborate crimson and orange marks that traced in a lattice across her hand, running up her arm to where it vanished beneath her sleeves. "I can't use any other spells until I've cast it."
"You could cast it on that empty field over there?" suggested Cair.
Tsane and Injimo glared at her. Injimo put her hand on the hilt of her sword. Cair slid back away.
"..." said Kalentia Pious as Princess Heron.

Heron sometimes did not speak. They said that sometimes she was struck dumb by the weight of all her past memories. Every word coming from her lips felt as weighty as carving the metal press that would slam it into the pages of a storybook for generations to read afterwards. And so those words trailed away into ellipses, and those ellipses became the shapes of words so clear that they could be heard in the silence. Kalentia could not fight like Heron, could not lead like Heron, could not communicate Heron's mythic stature or gremlin energy - but she could communicate the Princess' silent pain. She did not like wearing the disguise and longed to have it taken from her shoulders, and on some days that made her seem more like Heron than the performances of any of the others.

"Of course, Your Highness," said Rurik, uncomfortably finding that he wasn't acting being chastened either.
"... right," said Tsane. "Uh. Oh yeah, is this an escort quest or a kidnapping? Cair's message wasn't very clear."
"It would have been clearer if we didn't somehow pick up these busty floozies on the way!" said Cair, petulantly sticking out her tongue at Keli. "Oi! Hands off the merchandise!"
"Oh, are we fighting them?" said Injimo, suddenly very interested in the conversation.
"If they don't take the hint we are!" said Cair. "Ladies, I'm sure you're having fun in the alternate timeline, but now we're on the award-winning, most-popular Cair Route, and if you don't pull your heads in and leave my employee alone I'm going to have Sayanastia Bad End the two of you!"
"Hmwuh?" said Sayanastia, looking around with a guilty expression and a full mouth. Can't take your eyes off her for a minute, honestly.

Oh. Keli Hugs. How could he miss you so badly, and not know it until he was wrapped up tight? Silliness, probably. Catastrophic goofballery. Terminal lack of thinkies. That sort of thing. “Oh Keli. It turns out running a ball for half of Thellamie is a little trickier than it sounds.” He hides a laugh behind a sigh and squeezes her back in gratitude.

(They. Um. They had never looked so. So. Um. Haaaa. Sharp? Sharp. Good, and sharp. He’ll get the adjective right when his heart quits fluttering against her.)

What does he make of the assembled company? Well…

For one, Heron.

For two, Heron.

For three, Heron.

For four, Heron!!!

For five, he now knows what it’s like to be an NPC watching the adventuring party go through one of those optional skits between missions. If it was anyone else, he would have serious questions as to whether or not this mission was a good idea. Instead, he only has mild to moderate questions.

For six, seriously, why didn’t they just mention this was for Heron?! Could’ve saved everyone a lot of trouble!

For seven, he’s pretty sure he got the curse off Rurik. As best as he can tell. He did feel a little tingle when he forgave him earlier. He hasn’t fallen asleep again since. That’s a good sign. Hopefully. Though maybe he should keep forgiving him in his head, just to be safe. Not for the first time, he wishes this amulet came with an instruction manual.

For eight, there’s an odd, familiar comfort, sitting in the midst of Foxgirl Fighting. Worlds better than being near the wrath of the Khatun. (Yuki really did get the angy voices exactly right.)

For eight, these are all folks that Heron relies on. He’s had one evening with them. She’s had more adventures than he could ever hope to count. Whatever questions he’s got, she wouldn’t have brought them along if she didn’t trust them.

For nine, Sayanastia?!?

TEAM RELAXATION

Mayzie can't help but stare, and when she isn't staring, or trying desperately not to spill her hot chocolate whenever she takes a desperate thirsty sip, she's drawing madly.

Not only is her girlfriend(???) radiant, smiling, alive, and what if she was wearing the sort of suit with angles that should be illegal, that goes in the upper left corner, but Yuki! Edogawa! is straining to achieve new heights of skill with her craft, and... wouldn't it be nice if she could make, say, a heartpen? A heartbrush? Something with which she could dab the canvas and see it explode into colors, into hopes and dreams, into all the things that it's normally hard for her to say?

Things like the face study of Eclair that goes down onto the bottom, across from the study of Yuki, and it's a wild coincidence that Eclair's got her lips parted and looks like she's about to lean in for a kiss, and she wasn't thinking about that when she placed those two next to each other, and she isn't thinking about it now - I promise, on my honor - and instead she's getting lost in the eyes which she's looking at in order to get them down properly on the page, and she's purring.

Quietly, but unmistakably.

The world is warm and quiet here.

---

TEAM QUEST

"Cair Route?" says Keli indignantly, pressing a hand to her bosom (coincidentally taking a deerboy at least partially with it).
"Heron," Seli says, with a flourish of her sleeves, with a low bow. "It is my honor--"
"I don't see you going out there onto the dance floor, floozy--"
"--to fight alongside you at last, yah?"
"--where this poor, delicate boy is menaced by huntresses and the coils of seductresses seductressing--"
"We will fight for love and desire intermingled--"
"--just look at him, still red and speechless from how dreadfully they must have seduced him, yah?"
"--and bring discord into a tyrant's court--"
"Oh, don't you worry, you good boy--"
"--for the sake of the world."
"--you're safe from the world."

Seli's eyes shine with determination. Keli's eyes shine with the ambiguity of whether a bit has become the truth.

Then Alcideo steps up, whispers something very whispery in Keli's ear, and she releases a boy just enough for him to catch his breath, and for Alcideo to look him over for terminal fluster, sleepiness, stress, or-- "Ah. Yes. Quite. My lady, he's going to need a tincture of groundedness before he becomes entirely too breathless for this." He loops in an arm and pulls Hazel away, talking about how he will need to check his tongue for the proper dosage...

...and then whispers in a silly cervine ear: "I think she likes you, Hazel."

"I...I don't know how to grow my heart like that." Yuki's answer is barely above a whisper, and a tear touches the corner of one eye, but does not fall. She does not cry, not here. She just doesn't know where to go yet.

"I feel like...I had an aunt back home who would make big meals and all the family would show up all the time. But I don't know how to cook and I...back home I don't think my generation is ever going to be able to afford big houses like she had until she dies and passes it on to someone. And...and I never really thought about why everyone shows up anyway and now that I do I'm not sure that it's just that the food is good and the space is nice, even though it isn't not those things either." Yuki gets all tangled up in her sentence and pauses, staring at her redrawn heartblade, her axe that she balances horizontally in her two hands. She doesn't pull at it, just stares, brow furrowed and eyes deep in thought.

"Maybe...you'll have to show me. What blade I became? I don't think I can see it. When I look at this axe, now, it doesn't feel like I've become anything more than what it is. And all I hear is that rot dragon asking me if I'm some kind of lumberjack knight."

"So typical of a tree to sneer at the thought of an axe. Utterly pathetic. I would encourage you to put the Rot Star's words out of your mind, Yuki Edogawa. Difficult as that may seem. Her frightened yelps might creak with menace, but it does not do to confuse which one of you properly fears the other."

Ten steady steps forward. The distance could be cleared in fewer, but the gentleness of the motion in important. She reaches out with her finger and touches the tear that refuses to fall.

She brushes it away. But that is not true. Eclair pulls at it, instead. And in the motion, in the space, as her hand pulls away from Yuki's face, she comes away not with a fleck of salt water but with a thin opaline sword. An épée, to be more precise about it. Eclair lifts it high before she kisses it to her own forehead, and watches her friend with a smile.

"I am a Maid-Knight of the Aurora. The Morning, Noon, and Evening may be far from infallible, but in matters of the heart they are never incorrect. You may therefore trust my words are the truth. You know love and you know family, Yuki Edogawa, even if you cannot explain either. And you are greater than what you seem. Certainly you are greater than what comes most naturally to you, though that is not to imply that what comes naturally is not great."

With a wave of her free hand, she bids the blade to evaporate into light once more. Now she offers a curtsy, with her fingers placed perfectly about where her skirts should be, though she is still wearing the uniform of the Mystery Builder.

"Be at ease. What I have shown you today is the result of years of training and struggle. Continue practicing, and do not be afraid to take breaks. In time you will perceive the door that you are trying to open, and when you finally see it you will understand it all. If you ever feel lost in the dark, remember this:

"Starlight and destiny are burdens as certainly as they are blessings. If you lack for either it only means that your feet do not have to carry as much weight. You are not attempting to become more than you are: your heartblade is not a sign of your inadequacy. Therefore do not be afraid of failure, and do not be ashamed of what you know you can be. You are merely teaching your heart that it can be held with more than one grip. Once it comes to you, you will see at last how vast and brilliant Radiance truly is. More than could ever be matched by mere stars."

She yawns and walks over to a nearby chair to flop over and stretch herself out in an extreme display of both fatigue and impropriety. She is nearer to Mayzie now, almost near enough to note the purring, even if she doesn't dare approach that light out of sheer delighted nervousness that she might get burned.

"...If there is one thing that I despise, it is the way a lack of work allows the fatigue to catch up to my body. I shall need to eat soon if I am to ask you any questions. Is it not the stupidest thing imaginable? It should be against the law."