*Sighs* Well that took awhile. I'm sorry it took nearly another month again. Originally I didn't think I'd get anything up before Christmas, I had so much to do for presents and parties and such, but I had planned to crank out writing after the festivities were over. Then on Christmas we found out my grandma passed away overnight. Kinda...made the motivation to write sputter out after each paragraph.

Well, that was a few weeks ago, and I've gotten a hold of myself again. Grandma was a sweet, sweet lady that everyone liked, but she'd been going downhill for the last few years. Now we're just glad that she can rest peacefully.

And now moving on from the somber news...

After the last round of reviews, I'm curious. Are there any RavenxLetha shippers out there? I've only one person fess up to that. I know a lot of people like their interactions, but hmmm?

And omakes got pushed back because of various reasons, but I'm still going to do my best to write them.

Angelic:

"Not so secretly" because that writer knows very well how I've taken a shine to that pairing, for the humor value if nothing else. Constantly sends me messages about the latest bunny that popped into her mind, which kicks off hours of fangirlish giggling. Al is usually amused, and sometimes incredibly unamused by all this.

Whew, well obviously the contest thing didn't go anywhere, but I am going to write the omake requests I got. I've some vague ideas about yours, so we'll have to wait and see what that turns into.

For now, enjoy more of confused Letha. Bon appetit.

x x x

Chapter 57: Aria

x x x

At first I'd been afraid to look closely at my left arm. Inspecting my hand and wrist in the bath was one thing, the elaborate fairy tattoos were a fascinating enough draw to my attention that I could ignore the rest of my arm, but that had been the limb a Cù Sìth had chomped on hard enough to break. My arm should have looked totally messed up, right? But Lily had clicked her tongue at my squeamishness when giving me one more check up that morning. "I work with what I've got," she'd said, "and used nearly all of that on your arm and ribs. You can hardly tell anything was wrong with them now."

Indeed, I could breath as deeply as ever with no pain from my ribs. With that encouraging example of the doctor's ability bolstering my nerve I checked my arm to get it over with. True to her word the visible marks were very faint, noticeable only if you knew to look for them (or had some reason to stare at my arm for ages). If I ran my fingers along the skin I could feel the haphazard lines of raised and oddly smooth skin, but overall it was nothing too jarring to my aesthetic sensibilities. Not when considering the alternative mangled look I had envisioned.

"Wow," I admired her handy work. "But what about the others?"

Tugging the loose collar of my unbuttoned shirt aside, I nearly put a crick in my neck trying to look down at my own shoulder and collarbone. Running along the bone in an annoyingly unparallel line was the old scar from that time when the Red-eyes had ambushed and kidnapped me for a lark (thank you, Verte). It was a faint pink that nevertheless stood out on my pale never-holds-a-good-tan skin, and now had been joined by a new friend.

The bite from the fairy dog was a jagged oval, one end curving down the front of my right shoulder-overlapping with the older, clean cut scar-while the other end stood out clearly on the back of my shoulder blade. My right calf and left ankle sported more circular scars to match. And if I hadn't known better I'd have believed the wounds were almost as old as the Red-eyes scar. But there was such a puzzling gap in how obvious they were compared to the one on my arm. "How come these are still here?" I asked curiously, tracing the bite on my shoulder with a thumb.

"There's only so much a body can do, even with a blastia's help," she told me while carefully wrapping up her bodhi blastia, a clunky looking ring, in a handkerchief before stowing it away in a pocket. "If a good blastia with a formula compatible for healing is used right away, the injury can be repaired as good as new. Gels were researched and developed with the same outcome in mind." At her nod I hopped off my bed, slowly stretching my arms and then legs, reveling in the lack of pain. "But that's with the best of the best, with no delay. If you go wandering off all scatterbrained for a day like you did-don't argue, I can tell!-before getting treatment, of course the results aren't going to be pretty!"

The stern healer wagged a finger at me in admonishment. "The body will have already started trying to heal naturally, and healing formulas can't undo the process. When I was healing you, I started by putting all of my effort and energy into fixing your arm and ribs. Most of the work there was the result of the blastia. Gut for the rest it was more like I gave your own natural regeneration a kick in the rear to get it going.

"But having another scar to deal with would be the least of your worries. In the worst cases I've seen infections or the like would have already set in, and there's nothing for it then! Not much blastias can do for an ill patient. Or for a broken bone that wasn't set correctly and began to heal wrong. Or for-" she continued rattling off unpleasant things that could happen with improper first aid and blastia use, but I wasn't entirely listening anymore.

I'd never guessed before that using aer to heal a person was such a complicated process! Estelle made it seem so easy, even if it tired her out at times. And both Karol and Raven had their own artes that did some minor healing. Then again, I mused while pulling the mostly mended knight uniform back into my lap, I've never seen the guys use those abilities outside of battle. So only a few minutes would have passed between getting injured and them healing it. And the worst stuff was always taken care of with either Estelle's powers or some gels.

Not to mention all the injured people she comes across in towns that she heals right away. Thinking back on which...I couldn't remember any of those people suffering worse than maybe a scar like my older one after the princess was done with them. Maybe her gift for healing was far more impressive than I ever gave her credit for. And probably, if that were the case, it had to do with her identity as the Child of the Full Moon.

Ironic that the I, the person from the magic barren Earth, took magical healing for granted. I deftly threaded a needle and tied off the end. Over the past two days I'd managed to fix up the worst of the damage I'd done to Sarah's uniform, and it would only take an hour or so of my morning to finish off the easier tears. I couldn't do much to hide the fact that it had gone through rough times, but they say it's the thought that counts.

Lily tilted her head and cocked her hip to the side, one hand resting on it. "You know, whoever the Knight is that gave you that uniform? She may never bother to wear it again anyway. It looks like it's been half way to hell."

"I know," I mumbled, careful of the two pins I'd removed from the fabric as I sewed. No pincushion was handy, so for the moment I held them by biting on the ends gently. On the bottom of my left foot there's a scar from little child me learning to keep better track of her sewing needles and pins. That was one memory I wouldn't mind if Nevys erased... "But at least I'll know that I tried. I think she'd appreciate that at least."

"Hmm," Lily was still watching me work. "That color... That uniform is from the unit our Flynn joined, isn't it?" I nodded. The older woman sighed, leaning back against the wall. "And now he's the Captain..."

Silence stretched out between us, her lost in thought as I methodically put stitch after stitch into a sleeve. "When they were boys," Lily suddenly said, making me look up. Her eyes were soft, with a distance to them. Like she was looking far far away, far back down the years. "Yuri and Flynn both had a strong sense of right and wrong. Not surprising, Finath Scifo was an upright and outstanding Knight. Both of those boys looked up to him."

A nostalgic smile touched her lips. "We all looked up to him. A man, come from the lower quarter and carving a place for himself in the upper tiers of society. But he didn't forget us, Finath did everything he could to fight for the lower quarter." She blinked, gaze returning to the room and me. "You have reason to thank him too. He was the one who got us this," she patted the pocket her bodhi blastia rested in.

Then she sighed. "After he died we were all worried about Flynn. He'd admired his father so much, but suddenly he hated to hear anyone talk about him. And then he and his mother had to move out of their house..." Lily's eyes had looked away again. "One would have thought he'd be proud of how his father died in duty, putting the welfare of others before himself. But it made him bitter, and he devoloped what could almost be called an obsession with following the rules and laws."

"I've noticed," I couldn't help remarking wryly. Then I wished I hadn't, "Er, sorry...that was a bit..."

She shook her head. "It's alright. He and Yuri would get in terrible fights over it back then. Flynn would get worked up about something Yuri had done, and Yuri would get angry and call him 'a bossy nag', among even worse names. They spent less time together and, after the Scifos moved to another part of the quarter on the other side of the city, they stopped seeing each other entirely. Only a few of us in this neighborhood kept in touch with them."

My undivided attention was on Lily as I stopped sewing. "It was a bit of a surprise when they both applied for the Knights at the same time. It didn't seem very like Yuri, and some of us thought Flynn resented the Knights after what happened to his father," she continued, with the fondness of a mother telling stories about her children. (Looked like poor Yuri never had a chance with his crush.) "Neither had known that the other had joined until they were actually assigned to Nylen's brigade together in another town.

"We're not all that clear on what happened there, but Yuri came back a civilian and Flynn had...relaxed again, for want of a better word. He still believed that following the rules was the best course, but began to actively look for ways the law could be upheld without unfairly punishing criminals. Like with that one lad who stole a bag of grain from a shady merchant to feed his starving family. He punished the boy with community service, distributing the grain cheap among us while the merchant was locked up for stealing from the royal granaries."

Blowing an exasperated breath, Lily added, "And Yuri would freely break any rule that was getting in the way of someone's well being. Even going as far as to throw the tax collector into the river and tell him, 'Come back when it actually makes sense to give the rich nobles our money'."

"That sounds just like them," I laughed, rubbing a hand across watering eyes. "But Lily, why are you telling me this?"

"You seem to have known both of them," she pointed out, making me squirm a bit. I'd given information about myself only grudgingly, but (not counting the night I'd arrived) I'd stayed in the inn two full days and nights, talking with the patrons and doing what cleaning and odds jobs I could manage. An astute woman like Lily would have figured out that much easily, as Hanks and maybe Nolan likely had as well. "They're both good kids. Even if they don't always pick the best way of doing things, they have the right idea about wanting to make this world a fair place for us all. The Knights made a mistake letting Yuri go, but likewise did well to recognize Flynn's ability."

I looked away slightly. I knew that Yuri had chosen to leave on his own because the way the knights did things disappointed him. But, overall, I had to agree with the healer. She crossed the room and stood before me, placing one hand on the blue uniform in my lap. "Right now we don't trust very many of the Knights. We've had enough experience with the bad ones, like Cumore and most of his men. And we know that many are busy enough that, even though they're decent folk, they tend to overlook us down here. But there's still fine men like Finath was in there. And women."

Lifting up the uniform so we could both look at it, I grinned. "Fine men and women indeed. Though this one seemed to enjoy living with her head in the clouds. Heaven only knows what kinda story she'll cook up on her own to explain how I ruined her spare clothes."

x x x

Spending a third day cooped up in the same building hadn't been very appealing, not after how I'd gotten so accustomed to being on the move, so with Becca's blessing (aka, tacit agreement to not sic Nolan on me for wandering around town on my own) I went out to explore a little more. I clunked out the door in oversized shoes, carrying in one hand an old basket with the folded uniform at the bottom and clutching in the other a quickly scrawled shopping list. With the whole afternoon ahead and an entire city to see I strolled along the streets without any sense of urgency.

The inhabitants of the lower quarter were still leery of my presence, conversations hushing and eyes following me as I passed by. Whatever gossip and speculation was circulating about me must not have been too bad, though, since the chatter would resume before long and the curious stares would find something else more interesting or important than me. I wasn't a familiar fixture of the neighborhood but apparently I'd been deemed harmless enough to be left to my own devices.

Yes, harmless enough without my fairy-flower-made daggers or blastia. I really wasn't sure what had been done with them, but judged it imprudent to ask.

I stopped in the street, frowning to myself as I read and reread the name on the sign. This alphabet...it still doesn't feel natural to me. And it's so weird not to have reading come as naturally as breathing. But the name matched the symbols written on Becca's instructions, so even if I misread it there shouldn't be a problem.

A bell jingled as I pushed open the shop's door. The place was filled with shelves laden with jars full of powders and leaves, packets stacked up in bundles, and baskets and barrels filled with unfamiliar (but presumably edible if correctly prepared) things. Pushed up against the walls were mismatched cupboards and drawers. I sniffed at the air and smiled faintly. Mmm, nice. There's...cinnamon? Something sweet like vanilla... And something with a, I dunno, a sharper smell... Shrugging, I gave up. With my limited skills in the kitchen, I didn't have much chance of identifying many spices by scent alone, particularly not in a store full of them. Repede would have an olfactory overload here.

Before I could close the door something darted in through the gap between my legs and the door frame, startling me as it ran across my feet. "Oh!" I rocked back a step and caught sight of a coppery furred tail disappearing down one of the aisles. Curious, I stepped into the store fully and over to the aisle, looking down the line of shelves to the counter at the other end of the little shop. A long bodied cat with a chewed looking ear was slinking along in that direction. It gathered itself into a hunched position before springing up onto the wood counter.

"Mreeowr!" it yowled.

"There now..." a creaky old voice chuckled. A thin and wrinkled hand reached out from a blind spot created by the shelves and rubbed the cat behind the ears. "I was just wonderin' when it was you las' came by, Jericho." The cat bumped its orange head against the hand as it began purring. "An' didn' you bring somun' with you? Or are you clever enough to open doors now?"

"...Mrwowr," I called out. The copper orange cat turned to look at me with half closed eyes, sneezing in my direction.

A laugh that was uncomfortably like a witch's cackle came from the hand's direction. "I'll be, Jericho's brought a door openin' cat with 'im! Come 'ere, come 'ere!"

Face turning warm, I told myself it would be foolish to back out and run out the door. Ah...that old game of mimicking cats... I shouldn't have gone and done it if I was gonna be embarrassed about it. Slowly I crossed the store, following the same path as the cat Jericho. But when I came out of the aisle I stopped.

The wizened little old lady who was still stroking the cat was seated in a wooden chair by the counter. Her dress was black with fraying lace at the collar and cuffs, a crochet blanket lay spread across her knees. Gray hair was escaping from the bun on her head and a boil sat on her hooked nose. The classic fairy tale witch! But most shocking of all was her eyes. Her eyes were clouded, almost pure milky white. She was blind.

"Come now, Door Cat," she said, "Don' be shy. Or are you afeared of this old crone gumming you to death?" She smiled wickedly, revealing that several of her teeth were indeed missing.

"Wouldn't be the first time that's happened to me," I said with a slightly shaky voice. Clearing my throat, I tried to make up for that. "Though last time it was by a toothless old cat."

That won a laugh from her, another witch cackle that ended weakly with her gasping for her breath. Worried, I took a few more steps forward before halting. "A-are you okay?"

"Don' worry," she wheezed. "I'm not about to kick the bucket just yet." Getting herself back under control, the old woman leaned back into her chair. She'd withdrawn the hand from petting the cat on her counter, and now folded both on her lap. After taking a moment to just breathe, her head shifted a bit, turning so that her ear was more towards me. "Well then, is my guest goin' ta share 'er name, or are we goin' to keep on with this 'Door Cat' business?"

The name question again. Unhappy to face this issue again, I shifted onto one foot and clasped my hands behind my back. "I don't..."

As I hesitated, still unsure how to answer, the old woman cocked her head the other way, other ear now in her listening position. "Eh? A strange youn' thin' has wandered inna my store without 'er name, 'as she? You must be that 'Aria' lass I've heard some tell about."

I shrugged, saying with some indifference, "If that's what you want to call me."

The woman leaned forward onto her bony elbows a bit. "Meanin' iffin I wanted to, I could keep on callin' you 'Door Cat', is that it?"

With another shrug and a grin she couldn't see I said, "Myaow."

Jericho looked up from grooming his tail and meowed in turn, making the woman laugh again. To my relief, it was more of a chuckle that didn't push her over into a heart attack or something. She sighed and reached out one of her hands, beckoning in my direction. "Come here, come here, child." Obediently I stepped closer and took her hand to let her know when I was standing by her seat.

Her knobbly jointed fingers wrapped around mine, stroking across the back of my hand as if petting the cat again. I frowned in bewilderment at the feeling of familiarity the sensation brought.

A hand, larger then my own, cradling mine and warming it. Idly the other stroked my hands as I basked in the borrowed body heat. The church was cold, the pews little better, because it was yet too early for the heater to turn on. We were waiting, watching the two women at the modest little organ. Their heads, one of curling white hair and the other with near black curls, were close together as they whispered over open hymnals. The the dark haired woman looked up, saw us watching, and smiled beautifully at her chil...

Children?

"Such soft, smooth skin," the old woman crooned, "It's like I'm holdin' my daughter Alicia's 'ands agin." I blinked, seeing she was holding both my hands. Although the tattoo was clear on my hand in stark black and green lines, her fingers brushed across it without her making any comment.

"Where is your daughter?" I asked.

"That's what I keep askin' them!" she screeched suddenly. "Where is my daughter, where is my Alicia?" Her voice dropped to conspirational whisper, "An' do you know what they keep tellin' me? Every time I ask?"

I bent, leaning my head closer while trying to hear her. "Dead!" she trembled at uttering that single word. "Dead, they tell me, every time. But I know they're lying to me!" Her voice rose again, making me flinch back. "I know it, an' I've been waitin' for 'er to come back! An' I'll not die before I see my sweet lil angel agin."

The old woman's tirade gave me a sinking feeling in my chest. This denial...how can she know her daughter is alive? But as she continued to stroke my hands, crooning "Alicia" over and over to herself, my chest sank even futher. She doesn't. She just can't accept the loss. Or maybe she even forgot it, because believing it hurt her too much. Even on Earth this could happen. Did happen, to many undeserving people.

The door creaked amidst a jangling of bells. I looked back over my shoulder, hoping for help in calming the despairing mother.

A masculine voice spoke out, "Ma?"

"Uh," I answered, feeling awkward, "She's over here?" Footfalls preceded the man who came out from behind the shelves of spices. A fairly unremarkable looking man, wearing the same type of overused clothes as his fellows in the lower quarter. Seeing the way his mother was behaving, he rushed to cross the last few feet between us.

"Ma," he kneeled on her other side, and then repeated more softly, "Ma..."

"Oh," her voice quivered, "Jacob. You were visitin' your sister, weren' you? How is she?"

"Ma," Jacob's voice was pained, "Sis died years ago. A wagon ran o'er her! You remember, don' you?"

"Nonsense!" his mother rebuked him. "Alicia can't be dead. But go on, go on! Keep playin' your nasty games on your poor ol' ma." She let go of my hands to thump her own fists on her lap. A moment later her lap was filled by Jericho, the cat purring and nuzzling at her clawed fingers. Relaxing some of her tension, the old woman began petting the feline. I gave the cat a grateful pat on the head before escaping back a few steps.

"You're that Aria woman, aren' you?" It took a moment before I realized that Jacob was addressing me. Part of me didn't want to respond anyway, fearing any form of identifying with a name someone else had picked. But what had just happened felt like it was my fault, I didn't feel right to just ignore him. And I had another legitimate reason for being there.

"Umm," I searched until I found the list Becca had written and I'd dropped into my basket with the uniform at some point. "Here," I held it out to the man. "Becca from the inn needed some things..."

Jacob took the paper, barely glancing at it. "I'll send it o'er later. You should leave." His eyes, a lifeless brown, wouldn't meet mine. "'M sorry you had to see somethin' unpleasant."

"It's fine," I said quickly. "But, um, will she be...?"

"We'll be fine," he said a bit sharply. "Pity won' help 'er, so save it for somun' what needs it."

"Sorry," I mumbled, quickly retreating and leaving the shop entirely. The bells jingled one last time before I shut the door and leaned against it. Oooh...that didn't go well. It couldn't really be called my fault, right? But I still felt terrible. Save pity for someone who needs it, huh? But the people who actually deserve pity never want it...

Inhaling deeply, I blew out my breath slowly and adjusted my grip on the basket. I'm only an outsider, after all. Even if they didn't mind my presence, I wouldn't know what to do. I stepped away from the door, out into the street, and let myself fall into the current of people going about their daily business. Absently, I closed my right hand over my left and closed my eyes. The skin really did feel smooth.

x x x

Vulnerable

Letha: Dang, I've gotten so used to those gloves I was wearing that now I don't feel right without them. I should probably find a new pair... But I actually really hate the idea of wearing them again. Damned if I do, damned if I don't I guess.

x x x

"Excuse me?" I knocked on the door again. This time there was a rattle just before the doorknob turned and it swung open.

A thin man with pointed features blinked at me, squinting behind his spectacles as if he hadn't seen actual sunlight in days and it pained him. "Can I help you?" he enunciated carefully. Reaching up, he adjusted the glasses on his nose while giving me a once over. A bit of disdain entered his expression at my ill fitting and obviously hand-me-down clothes. I, in turn, noticed the ink blots staining his otherwise perfectly white sleeves. And his tie was crooked. (So there, nyeh.)

"Erm," I glanced over his shoulder into the office behind him. There was a desk nearly hidden under stacks of papers, and various paraphernalia that probably went with the dreaded desk work career. "Right. Someone told me you were in charge of matters concerning Flynn's Brigade when he isn't in the city...?" Frankly, I hadn't believed a...a clerk would have much authority in the knights. But looking at this guy I just couldn't imagine he was an acting knight who just happened to get everyone else's paperwork dumped on him. "...Was I mistaken?"

"No, you were told right. What do you need?" The man made no move to invite me inside, he just stood in the doorway staring at me intently. I could almost hear him thinking at me to hurry up so he could get back to work.

I lifted up the basket I'd been carrying a little higher. "I wanted to know how to get this uniform back to its owner. It was, ah, misplaced by a knight by the name of Sarah." I didn't want to get in trouble for borrowing a knight's uniform, and hoped she wouldn't get any punishment for leaving it in a civilian's hands.

"Oh, that one," the clerk drew out the word "that" in a way that implied as much disdain as he'd shown for my personal attire. "Just leave it here, I'll deal with it eventually." Impatiently he grabbed the basket out of my hands before swinging the door shut.

"Hey, wait!" I protested to no avail as the door slammed. Peeved, I banged on the door. "HEY!"

It jerked open again. "WHAT. Is. It?" The clerk glared at me.

I thrust my hand forward in a very clear "Gimme." "I only meant to leave the uniform. I need to give the basket back to its owner." He grabbed the clothes out of the basket before tossing it out the door at me. It bounced against my chest and I reflexively closed my arms around it as the door slammed shut again. "Pleasure doing business with you Sunshine," I griped.

"Geez, what a marvelous day," I sighed as I turned away. The street I was on was in a much better off section of the city than the lower quarter. Buildings left and right were in better repair, several of which looked freshly painted. Glass in the windows wasn't rippling with age, or made opaque by swarms of bubbles and other imperfections. And even the people, or I should say especially the people, were different. They looked better fed, practically glowed with good health, and were dressed modestly but in clothes still in their prime. Here and there would be an individual or small group done up in the latest fashion.

Glances were directed my way more than once. But here they were accompanied by people sniggering behind their hands to other pedestrians. And shop owners who saw me standing outside to look in the windows at their wares had given me outright hostile glares. One had even come to the door and told me to move along, there wasn't anything for "my sort" there.

Frustrated, I gave up and retraced my route to go back to the lower quarter. Just be glad you didn't try wandering into the Royal Quarter. They'd have probably thrown you out by hand for fear of muddy footprints on the street. What a wonderful sense of community all these people had.

Once I could see the courtyard with the Lower Quarter's fountain down at the other end of the road I felt myself relax. "Well, I'm no more an outsider here than back there. At least there's actually people here willing to talk with me. Without acting like poverty is contagious."

"Miss Owia!" Little Ophelia came running up to me, pigtails and doll's ears all bouncing. "Miss Owia!"

"Hey there, what's the fuss?"

Lia's small hand grabbed mine and began pulling me in the direction she'd come from. "Youw gonna pway wid me now, 'kay?"

"Alright, alright," I agreed, though I felt exhausted at even the thought of playing with the energized girl. "What are we playing?"

"Op-wah!"

I opened and closed my mouth a few times like a fish. "Wait...you mean...we're playing 'Opera'?" It was either that or "Oprah" but the latter seemed highly unlikely somehow.

She pouted, annoyed by how slow on the uptake I was. "Dat's whud I said! Op-wah!" With another tug (kids are surprisingly strong, they don't know the meaning of self control and it's hard to fight back against them for fear of hurting them) she brought me forcefully down to the fountain. "Dis is, dis is da stage!" she announced while climbing up onto the fountain's edge. Some people were already starting to stop and watch us, smiling fondly at the child's antics. Or smirking at me, the victim.

"Oh Lordie, have mercy on me..."

x x x

Nolan was laughing his ass off at me. My cup thunked on the wooden table as I glared at him. But that only made him guffaw with more gusto. Probably because I was still out of breath and flaming red in the face.

"You just can't say no, can ya?" Becca was smiling broadly as she came over to our table. But I forgave her (for the most part) because of the pitcher she was carrying. "More water?"

"Yes," I rasped, pushing my cup over closer to her. And scowled as Nolan burst out in a fresh wave of laughter. "Can it or I'll make you sing!" I grabbed my refilled water and took another long gulp.

Playing "Opera" consisted of Ophelia singing a song, which was cute a sight as anything (puppies and kittens frolicking with butterflies in a cotton candy cloud comes to mind), and then it was my turn to sing. Once she bullied me into a song and I somehow got through it without dying of embarrassment it was her turn again. And then, again, my turn... The game didn't end until Ted came to my rescue, taking the girl away to help buy medicine for her mother.

To his credit Nolan did try and bring his mirth under control. Though doing so seemed to require he look away from me. "Don't feel too bad, you're not the first sucker that tyke has hooked." Since he wasn't looking at me my withering glare was wasted. "She's just like her mother was when she was a youngster. Practically the spittin' image of her too."

"Come to think of it," Becca put in as she claimed one of the empty seats for her own use, "I've never heard the like of the songs Lia got you singing. Where'd you learn them?"

"Around..." I muttered, taking another long sip as an excuse not to elaborate. Ophelia had bombarded me with the names of songs I was supposed to sing. If I had to guess, maybe they were famous songs from the theater that she'd heard about from her mother. I had absolutely no clue how any of them went. Finally, to pacify the frustrated child, I just went ahead and sang whatever songs came to mind.

Becca wondered, "But why did that one song make her start crying?"

"How was I supposed to know she actually knows what 'swan song' means?" I defended myself.

"Huh?" Nolan stopped acting like he was holding the conversation with the empty table next to us. "What's a swan song?"

The innkeeper took the job of explaining it to him. "A person's swan song is their last masterpiece. Though I never did know just why they call it that."

I finished off my water and shook my head when Becca lifted her pitcher again. "It's because people thought swans don't make any noise. Somehow, though, they got the idea that just before a swan dies it will sing a beautiful song. For the first and the last time." And, since I'd never heard of there being swans on Terca Lumireis, I hadn't thought the piece of folklore would exist either. Clearly I'd been wrong.

"Kid was practically begging me not to die. I had to sing three more songs before she got the message that I wasn't gonna quit singing or breathing anytime soon." I wasn't particularly happy about that. Not just because of the humilation factor my stage frightful self had suffered, but because I'd slipped up.

One of the few songs I'd told myself not to sing had come out. I'd been avoiding the foreign languages, not wanting to make myself even more out of place than necessary, any songs that mentioned modern Earth things or places were out, and "Children of the Moon." For obvious reasons. Unfortunately, "Children of the Moon" was one of the songs more deeply rooted in my subconscious, and I'd been so frantic to stop the girl's crying that it was the first one that came out.

Nice going, smarts.

No one had remarked on it. I didn't think the Children of the Full Moon would be a widely known story among the lower levels of the working class. But I felt uneasy about it anyway.

Nolan then got serious, "Actually, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about. Though it was driven from my mind seeing, heh, that." He leaned on his forearms against the table and gave me a level look. "What are your plans now?"

"Ah," I closed my eyes and nodded, "I've been expecting this."

"You've recovered fast, faster than even Lily expected," I opened my eyes in surprise at that part. He nodded, perhaps confirming for himself that I'd been unaware of any abnormality with my recuperation. "Yes, she told me it's likely because you've spent a period of time in the company of a skilled healer. If you're healed by someone real good enough times, then in the future it makes it easier for healing blastia to repair injuries. Something like having a blueprint to follow." He shrugged, "I don't get it much myself."

Wow, Estelle isn't even here and she's still helping me out...

A snort from the innkeeper was followed with a low, "And aren't we all glad you're not the one in charge of the bodhi blastia."

"Yeah, yeah," he waved it off. "But like I was saying, we can't have you living on our charity any longer. You've been a help to Bec, here, but..."

I finished the thought for him. "I'm taking up room and board without paying for it, other than with a few small odd jobs she could probably have given to one of the kids instead."

Nolan shrugged and spread his hands. "That's the shape of it. Either you start being a more productive sort around here, or you can be on your way. The sooner the better."

His words upset Becca, "Now Nolan, you didn't have to put it like that." But the man was unrepentant.

"It's the plain and simple truth."

"It is," I agreed, rubbing at my temples with one hand. "And I really wish I could make it up to you all. There is somewhere else I want to be, but it'll be hard to get there when I don't even own the clothes on my back.

"I said before that someone should be along for me," I reminded him. Not that I was looking forward to Verte coming back, but no new options had popped up. Unless I thought up some get rich quick scheme I simply couldn't fund a journey out of Zaphias. "I'm not sure how long that someone'll take, I actually thought she'd have come by now. But if there's anyway I can make myself useful until she does-"

I wasn't even sure why I cut myself off at first, but for some reason a hush had fallen over the room. Everyone else was staring in the direction of the door or sharing significant and concerned glances with each other. I turned to look as well.

"Oh merde..." the blood drained from my face. In the doorway was a trio of knights. But the kicker was that they wore the colors of the royal guard, a vivid crimson that inevitably drew the eye in the mundanely colored inn. Knights? What are they doing here? Even if they felt like slumming it, this should be one of the last places they'd choose to stop by. I slid down in my chair as the guard at the group's head scanned the common room. Nothing good can come of this.

In a loud, clear voice of authority he announced, "We're here for the woman called Aria. Will she please come forward now?"

I'd sunk so low in my seat that I almost couldn't see over the table edge. "Oh bloody scheisse and merde..." Everyone else in the room reacted the way normal people normally would. They all turned to gape in my direction. I groaned, knowing I couldn't be more obvious if one of them had nailed up a sign with an arrow on it over my head.

The three knights in red marched across the room to my table, the other customers all scrambling to move or get their own chairs out of the way. I pushed myself up in my seat again but didn't stand. Two of them moved to stand behind me while the leader stood proudly in front of me. "Commandant Alexei requests your presence in the castle. He has matters he would like to discuss with you."

"You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered. He heard and responded (even though that was so very unnecessary).

"No, ma'am, I am completely serious." I buried my face in one hand. It wasn't necessary to look up to know that everyone, Nolan and Becca not least of all, were gawking at me like they'd just suddenly realized I was Frankenstein's monster. What would Alexei want with 'Aria'? Could he have figured out it's me? How would he have even heard about...scratch that, he probably has hired spies everywhere. Why not a few in the Lower Quarter, keeping an eye on his own backyard?

Lifting my head again I dared to ask, "Well, I'm not all that interested in talking with him. What then?"

His expression didn't change in the slightest as the knight told me, "I'm afraid I must insist. My orders are very clear." There was nothing overtly threatening about either his words or his appearance, but a cold dread sent a shiver up my spine. If those orders were "by any means necessary" then would this guy really...use any means? If he did I had no doubt that Alexei would mind at all. Not if he got what he wanted.

I didn't want to give these people any trouble, not by starting a fight in their inn or by giving the knights an excuse to label them all with the crime of "harboring a fugitive" or however they wanted to call me. What other choice did that leave me?

"I got it," I said numbly as I stood. "I'll go with you."

"Whenever you're ready, ma'am," the knight said blandly.

"Aria," Nolan started to say, but grimaced instead. It must have seemed to him like he was right about me all along. At least he didn't look happy about being right.

I tried to smile as if nothing was wrong. "Sorry, I really didn't expect something like this to come along looking for me. I hope you don't mind if I don't follow that promise to the letter." I turned back to the knights' leader. "I don't have anything to bring with me, so I'm all set."

"Very well." With me at the center of their happy group, the royal guard started to escort me to the door.

Becca pushed her chair back as she stood up abruptly. "Wait!" I stopped and my chivalrous unit had to stand by as well. But Becca had rushed off towards the kitchen. The kitchen door swung partway closed behind her and there was a clamor of pots banging against each other. I hope she's not arming herself with a frying pan and cutlery to take on the knights with...

It wasn't long before she came out of the kitchen again carrying something wrapped in a dish towel. "You don't wanna be leaving these behind," she said by way of explanation while putting the bundle in my hands. "I'm hoping you'll be by again soon, but it would be best to take these back now."

Curiously I unwrapped the towel. My blastia hairclip slipped from one of the folds and nearly fell on the floor before I caught it. And inside were my red and orange spined daggers. I breathed, "You had them?" Honestly I'd been suspecting Nolan of appointing himself their keeper.

She wrung her hands together. "I was only keeping them safe. And I wanted to be sure none of the youngin's would find them. Didn't want anyone to get hurt." Even if she didn't say as much I could guess that I was one of the people who hadn't been meant to find them.

"Thank you, Becca," I told her sincerely. She was giving them back after all. Someone else might have lied and said I'd lost them on my own and forgotten, then turn around and sold them to the highest bidder.

"Ma'am," the royal guard prompted me. Giving the kindly innkeeper a pat on the arm, I gathered my returned belongings under one arm and left with Alexei's men.

x x x

I was abandoned in a (actually quite comfortable) waiting room to cool my heels for about an hour. A sizeable chunk of that time was spent alternately pacing and fidgeting on the cushy chairs and sofas. Fretting about how much Alexei knew, how he knew, and what, for the love of God, he wanted exactly. Even if I guessed that was how the Commandant wanted me to be reacting I couldn't help myself.

When a page in red livery finally came to pick me up he found me standing in front of an oil painting on the wall, criticizing most vocally how it looked half finished, half hearted, and probably cost as much as a house. And I could so totally do better (if I only had some acrylic paints).

Hey, it distracted me and kept me from developing full blown neurosis. Though the walk down the corridors with the silent page nearly undid my composure. Several times I'd touched my hand to where I wore Sophia's blastia hairclip under my blouse for reassurance. Wearing it openly in front of knights and nobility had seemed like tempting fate (some high and mighty prick would be bound to try and take it), so I'd used a strip torn from the dish towel to fashion a makeshift necklace out of it.

"Right in here," the boy piped up, knocking on a door in front of us. "Miss, uh, Aria is here, sir!"

"Send her in," the reply came clearly through the door. The page opened the door for me before stepping aside, and then closed it with a click once I was inside. Alexei's office was sparcely decorated, a fireplace at one end, and maps of the city, the continents, and the world were pinned on the walls. A fine crystal vase sat on a small table, but when I peeked inside the layer of dust at the bottom hinted the vase had never known any flowers. There were some functional wooden chairs and a few that looked a bit more comfortable to sit in...and at a very large desk sat the Commandant. A much larger, more expensive looking desk than the one in that clerk's office earlier. Alexei didn't look up or acknowledge me, rather he continued reading from the papers spread before him as if I weren't there.

It's the CEO's Office technique. Much like the whole being left in another room deal, though I thought of that one as the Principal's Office technique. People are very good at working themselves up into a frenzy without any outside help, and half of a psychological battle comes from fighting yourself. You see this one all the time in movies, even if people don't pay attention to it. Some lackey is called to the big honcho's office and has to stand by for who knows how long until the guy is ready to talk to him. It's a ploy to assert his superiority, a reminder that the lackey can't even sit without permission.

...It actually rather annoyed me. If Alexei thought he could get me to do what he wanted, he'd damn well have to work for it.

He seemed entirely absorbed in his papers, pen scratching lightly as he made some note about whatever he'd read. I couldn't see his eyes because of the way his steel gray hair fell in the way. But I doubted that he'd looked at me even once the whole time.

Schooling my expression into that of a vaguely amused smile, I leisurely ambled across the room to Alexei's desk. There, on impulse, I took the corner of one of the top sheets of paper and yanked it from the pile. For my next disrespectful trick I turned and sat on the edge of the varnished desk as casually as if I owned the place. Since I figured, Might as well, I even started to read the document I'd swiped.

"Miss Vitae." My smile became a trifle broader at the vexed tone. I continued reading what sounded like some kind of report about a scouting mission. Hmm, Hypionia continent? Which one was that again...? "Miss Vitae."

"Hush, Alex dear, I'm reading." That did shut him up for a moment. He was probably digesting being called "dear" by some strange woman carrying a pair of exotic daggers (wrapped in a rag!) while she read his reports. I took the opportunity to pick up another paper and look it over. "If you're gonna invite people to visit and then be rude enough ignore them, the least you could do is have some magazines in here."

The silence that followed practically had weight to it. I somewhat regretted having sat on his desk; doing so prevented me from watching the Commandant's reactions on the sly. He could stab me in the back with a letter opener and I wouldn't see it coming.

"Miss Letha Vitae," Alexei almost growled. Almost. Man had some good composure. "One would argue that it is a greater offense to courtesy not to look someone in the eyes when they're speaking with you."

Dropping the papers back onto the desk beside me, "So it is," I levered myself back off the desk and made a show of brushing my dress into place. Without looking at him I walked away a few steps to grab one of the chair. One of the padded ones, who cares if he never told me to make myself comfortable? Only once I'd pulled it around in front of the desk and relaxed into it did I look him in the face again.

Unfortunately he looked as patient as anything, gathering his papers into a neat stack while he waited for me to settle in. Trying not to let my disappointment show I crossed my legs and folded my hands across the knee. My palms were warm and starting to sweat. I was treading a fine line between keeping my cool and having a nervous breakdown.

"Frankly, sir, you might as well drop the 'Vitae' business. If you haven't figured out by now that that isn't my name, then I don't know how you've managed to keep your job this long." I arched an eyebrow at him, and was pleased to see his own brows draw together slightly.

The Commandant steepled his hands together on his desk. "Underestimating my abilities is unwise, Miss...should I say Aria now?"

I shrugged, pretending the question bothered me less than it did. "Call me 'Letha', call me 'Aria', heck, make up some nonsense word and call me that for all I care."

"Hmm, no matter," Alexei put both hands on his desk and stood. "What I'm far more interested in is if you were not born on Iliccya, Tolbycia, or Desier, then where is it that you hail from?" With a slow, deliberate pace the Commandant emerged from behind his desk. "Also, I would very much like to hear all of what your homeland knows of the Enduring Shrine of Zaude."

Can't say that was unexpected. I'd been braced for just those words, er, minus the part listing all the continents I wasn't a native from. That part actually made me a little happy. He doesn't know where I'm from? That means...Raven didn't send a report about that night in Mantaic, when he and Yuri heard about Earth for the first time? It was always possible that that report just hadn't arrived yet (not a clue how they did that anyway, could be messenger pigeons for all I knew), but it still felt encouraging.

"Zaude?" I pursed my lips and tapped a finger against them, pretending I wasn't feeling jumpy about the approaching Commandant. "A fairy tale, I think. Can't say I really remember much about it, nobody takes fairy tales seriously." Alexei paused, standing beside my seat. I didn't look up at him. "A fool's dream, to believe in something that doesn't exist when there are more than enough problems in the world that need attention."

A hand clapped down on my shoulder unexpectedly and I couldn't help jumping in my seat. Alexei squeezed my shoulder, as if physically holding me down while his other hand reached and took mine from where it hung across an armrest. "And what is this?"

You've never seen a hand before? The thought never made it to words. Alexei had my left arm by the wrist, and we could both see slivers of orange light trying to shine from under the matte black cast Nevys' mark had taken ever since Verte had messed around with it. "Fascinating," he remarked, "Though I wonder why it holds such importance to her."

I pulled my arm down and away from Alexei until he had to let go. Flustered, I dragged at my blouse sleeve trying to pull it down over my hand enough to cover the tattoo. Dammit, I'm losing my chance at the upper hand here. But when had it started doing that? I hadn't even noticed before!

Alexei's hand lifted from my shoulder and it took all my self restraint to keep from jumping to my feet. I heard the shifting of his armor and thump of his boots on the carpeted stone floor as he left my line of sight. "Let's not have any games now. Just as with the matter of your name, or lack thereof, we both know full well that Zaude is no myth." His footsteps stopped, I peeked over my shoulder and the back of the chair to see what he was doing.

The Commandant stood before the world map on his wall, studying it intently. "Soon all the pieces shall fall into place and the power of Zaude will at last be in my hands." Arms crossed behind his back, Alexei turned to me again. "You and your comrades hope for Zaude to rise again as well, do you not?"

"What? You think I...?" I shook my head at the absurdity of me and the others wanting something like that to happen. Heck, the others hadn't even heard of Zaude yet! "I've no idea where you got that idea from, but you couldn't be any more wrong."

Barely had the words left my mouth when the door to the hallway swung open again. "No need to be coy, little pawn," the newcomer said, skirts making a slithering noise on the stone floor until she'd stepped onto the room's carpets. "We have utmost confidence in the Commandant as an ally."

"Ivalyn, what a unexpected pleasure for you to join us," Alexei greeted her politely, though his voice lacked any warmth.

I could only stammer, "Y-you? Verte?" If I hadn't already been sitting I would have fallen into the nearest chair.

The fairy stood in the center of the room, cool jade eyes passing over me to Alexei. She dipped a shallow, perfunctory bow. "Be assured, Commandant, my servant and I shall do all in our power to support you in your goal."

Verte's green eyes glanced at me. She didn't need to say anything for me to get the message. One way or another, she was going to make sure I stayed in line and didn't interfere with Alexei's plans.

x x x

Taking liberties with known facts in the game again, seeing how far I can stretch them. Also made use of information gleaned from the First Strike movie, as well as some manga chapters I've read on Mangafox. The story about Flynn and the boy trying to steal grain is a reference to the side story that focuses on Flynn. Tales of Vesperia - Furen Seinaru Hakugin no Kishi or in English Tales of Vesperia-Flynn, The Holy Silver Knight That title makes me laugh each time...

But argh, I rewrote the last scene so many times! Curse you, Alexei and Letha!
*Alexei and Letha look at each other*
Alexei: Perhaps we should call a truce and work together against our mutual foe.
Letha: Take down Sylph? I'm game with that.
Sylph: Uhhh...

More Ophelia speak! Not much of it this time, and it probably wasn't too hard this time around:

You're gonna play with me now, 'kay?
That's what I said! Opera!
This is, this is the stage!