Well, new chapter is out! Its a lot longer than my usual chapters, so I hope you enjoy it! :)

Chapter 4, Discoveries

Still no clues. I shuffle through the documents and dataslates I've managed to get my hands on. Where could she be? I know she can't be dead, but how did they manage to smuggle her away? Both the Manuels and the government security forces wanted her dead. The spaceport was locked down for months after it happened.

I glance back at the ship manifests my team and I managed to collect. They were all on the living room table. Checked and combed though thrice. I sigh, leaning back into the lounger, causing its gears to click as I push my shoulders back. The dataslates next to them contained the files of the people serving in the SS contingent that locked down the spaceport landing fields. They were all long-time Felendir loyalists, or people clearly under the payroll of the Manuels.

Might she still be here? I wonder, as I start sipping my recaff. No, can't be. It's been twelve years. Even if a rebellious nobleman sheltered her, they wouldn't have waited that this long to make their move. Every day King Felendir sits on the throne would be another day for him to gain legitimacy, cement his alliances, and to remove his enemies. Now the powers of the nobles are waning, as their serfs all move to Saint Gabrea and other Forge cities. Their influence flowing out of their hands and into the forges and smelters of the Industrialists.

In fact, some have tried to revolt. All crushed by the PDF and the Mafia. Why hasn't anyone unveiled her? Prop her up as a rallying figurehead, a banner of legitimacy to be used and exploited. Yet none have done so, and as a result their uprisings were only short-lived and isolated affairs.

No, she's offworld. There's no other explanation. But how did she slip through?

Rubbing my chin, I finally concede that unless Arklight managed to find new clues, we were in a dead end.

I sigh once more. Then I decide to check whether or not Winter was still at Millie's recaff shop. Walking towards the curtained windows, I take a peek downstairs. The view that the window afforded me was enough to see the entire shop, and everyone inside it. There are a few patrons right now, and Millie is busy cooking something. No Winter or Waverly in sight though.

Well, she has been begging to be allowed to go with Wavy on a sleepover. With how well her studies have progressed, she deserves a slight respite. Let's hope nothing bad happens.

Almost instinctually, I find myself straying closer to the maps pinned on the far side of the wall. There were three. One was a planetary map; the other a map of Saint Gabrea City and its surrounding areas, the last was a graphite sketch of this Forge City – Starstep. The Starstep City map is the map I examine.

There. Graveglade's Rest. At the edge of the city. A group of hills turned into a memorial, commemorating a memory so old it has become a myth. As much as I'd hate to admit it, Graveglade was perhaps one of the safest places to camp out. Between the reverence afforded to it by Farsight's culture, and the Mourning Knights that guarded and patrolled it, both Winter and Waverly are as safe as they could ever expect to be.

Still, I didn't survive this long by being an optimist. On the contrary, I survived by being a pessimist, but an extremely prepared pessimist. I start to eye my trench coat, already forming a plan to monitor the two juvies.

I have magnoculars in the lower left waist pocket; it shouldn't be hard at all to get the Knights to give me a free pass. I have the papers to prove Winter is my charge... That might arouse suspicion. How about if I just sneak in there? No, those knights are bound to check up on them, to make sure they aren't up to anything. They might spot me. Oh, Emperor's Throne, why would they suspect me? I'll just stop by their guard post and tell them to keep an extra careful eye on the girls…

Yeah, let's start trusting the planetary enforcers. Very smart. Heh, the next thing I'll be doing is sharing my investigations with the planetary governor.

My mind made up, I start packing up for the journey. Lifting the cushions on the recliner, I take out the camo-cloak secreted under it. Next came the photo-visors from the hidden compartment in the kitchenette. Then the dependable Ius autopistol, my badge of office as well as my old Arbites badge, and the photo-visors from the trenchcoat pockets. After putting on an extra layer of clothing to shield me from the night cold, I felt prepared.

They did say they wanted to visit the farmer's market before camping out. If I leave now and take a pedalcab I'll arrive at Graveglade before the farmers' market closes. Knowing them, I'd daresay they'd stick around until it gets dark at the very least. I wonder if Wavy would finally get Winter to drink those Jawmelters there. Heh, I'll make sure Winter gives me a report tomorrow.

All in all, guardianship has not been nearly as hard as I feared it to be. Even before her parents got killed, Winter had been staying in a boarding schola, so she didn't meet them often. For the most part, Winter had enforced a strict schedule on herself as to not dwell on it. It was an endeavour I have eagerly supported. Between her diligence and her increasingly apparent voracious reading habits, she has excelled in the curriculum I laid out for her.

Weekends were a touchy subject, as the memories were the closest to her during them. Since her breakdown in the voxhub during her first night here, I haven't caught her crying nor have I seen any signs of her having done so. Still, she grieved, even if tears were lacking. A stony stare directed at the sky, as if trying to make shapes of the drifting clouds. The sudden tight hug; started and ended without a word said. Though I am glad she at least sees me as a source of comfort, I am frustrated by her unwillingness to open up.

A sigh escapes me. I know all too well that she is repressing her feelings, and repression will not work if you are still so young and naive. Mind wipes aside. Well, here's to hoping that some comradeship with a fellow from the fairer sex will get her to loosen up a bit.

I put on my trench coat, and take my hat as I stroll towards the door.

"Winter, get tha wooden hammer an help me pound this stake in." Orders Waverly, as she pointed at the pack that had all the camping implements.

A quick search through its contents yielded what I though she meant. "This one?" I ask, holding the hammer in my hand.

"Yup, now come here." She beckons to me. "I'll hold tha stick, ya hit its top. Make sure ta hammer it straight down." She traces the arc of the hammer in the air to show what she meant.

"Got it." I strike down carefully, hoping to do it right.

"Winter!" She yells. "Aint gonna get done with it if ya hit like that! Put some brawn into it!" Her free hand starts pantomiming swift and hard hammering.

"Alright…" I stand up and lift the hammer over my head, ready to put my entire back into it.

"Cacol!" She swears, hastily gesturing for me to stop. "Not like that! Stop! Ya'll hit me on tha head."

"You told me to hit it harder!" I protest, raising my arms in frustration.

"God-Emperor! Yer helpless in this are ya?"

"What part of 'I've never been camping' don't ya understand?" I cross my arms, pouting at her. "This is one of the first times I've been in the open like this. Come on, can we get this tent up any faster?" The winds are getting stronger, and to be honest, the absence of any enclosed spaces is starting to make me feel ill at ease.

Another strong gale buffets the hilly meadow we're at, and I shiver despite the thick clothes I've been lent.

Seeing my discomfort, Waverly lowers her eyes. "Sorry Winter. Here give me the hammer, you'll do tha holding instead." She proffers her hand to me, and I quickly give her the wooden hammer.

We exchange positions and she kneels next to the stake I hold. Using a single hand, she quickly pounds it into the ground. During the next few minutes we quickly hammer the remaining stakes into the ground, and after a bit of fumbling, we put up the poles and erected our tent.

"Not so hard now is it?" Waverly says, starting to move our stuff into our newly established shelter.

"Can't have done it without you." I mumble, heaving the bag of blankets inside.

"Hey," I felt a tug at my sleeve. It was Wavy, holding the glow-globe the Knights had provided to us in her other arm. "I'm sorry, really I am. I… kinda forgot ya weren't from around here."

Surprised by both her sudden apology as well as its message, I couldn't help but give a small chuckle. "Nah, its okay. Really though? How could you forget that?"

"I guess I just got carried away. After all the fun we had at the farmers market." She starts to lay down the rectangular cloth over the thin tent fabric, I follow suite. "I mean, during that market trip, it was like ya've been here yer entire life!"

"Huh? You sure?" I state as I patted and straightened out the fabric to make sure they were spread equally around the tent floor. "I stuck out like a sore thumb, and I was awestruck at some of the food sold there."

"Sore thumb?" She gives me a questioning look. I remember that some phrases used in Redsand might be unheard of here.

"I mean that I was obviously out of place, like how a sore thumb is obviously different from the rest of the fingers." I say, using my fingers to illustrate what I meant.

"Oooooh!" Waverly's mouth forms a circle as she exclaims. She giggles a bit before continuing. "Yer really interesting, ya know that? I keep learning new things each time we chat. Oh, and button up the flaps will ya? I wanna keep that wind out."

I do so, meanwhile she started to roll out the sleeping bag she bought with her. "Well, yeah, ya stuck out, but you just had so much direction! Ya'd take one look at the map and speed off. Even with all the crowds, ya'd just breeze through them!"

At this I laugh. "Ha! It's just something you pick up when you grow up in the hives. The crowds there aren't just clumps of people, they could be kilometers long!" My smile fades momentarily as I remembered the rush hour during the release period of each day cycle. It was a seemingly endless tide of people in drab and weathered clothing shuffling towards the elevator hubs. No longer having to shoulder through it every day cycle was one of the reasons I enjoyed my life in the boarding schola.

"As for the map reading, when so many people are pressing around you, you learn to take things in fast, and at least the market layout was simple." With all the 'furniture' laid out, we took out all the consumables we either bought from home or from the farmers market.

"Simple?" She repeated doubtfully as she slid into the fur sleeping bag.

"Yup. It wasn't too detailed, simply divided the market into areas depending on what they sold. Not much to it other than 'go in that general direction'. Back in the hive, we'd have main roads, secondary roads, sublevels, and all manner of crisscrossing halls and access ways. Even then we were lucky, as almost all the areas we had to travel past were powered and lighted." I look curiously at the fur sleeping bag. "That's for the both of us?"

"Yeah! Don't worry, old uncle Mathas said it could even fit four people if they're willing to huddle." She said, referring to the Mourning Knight that had lent us most of our camping equipment. I decide to slip into the sleeping bag with her. "So… some area's in the hive weren't powered?"

"Yup, especially in the lower levels of the hive. I heard some levels didn't have any electricity access at all. So they'd always be dark." Staring upwards, I notice that the tent that the Knights had lent to us is larger then I thought. I couldn't stand up in it, but there is more then enough space to roll around.

Our conversation drifts after that. I talk Redsand, the masses of people, the all-encompassing metal and concrete, and what I learned in my old schola. She, in turn, talks about her life back in the farms with her parents and family.

Perhaps it was not the best topic, for we soon stumbled into a sensitive subject.

"I wish I could still be there, tending tha farm."

Her mother and father are dead, and her brothers missing, probably enslaved. I have known that for some time now. She has not divulged the details of her parent's death. To be honest, I don't want to know, it reminds me of my own troubles.

Still, for some reason, the confining, though not constricting, condition of the tent made it hard for me to simply ignore such an obvious bid to share.

"What happened?"

"Bandits." She answers, staring straight upward, as if gazing at the sky blocked by the fabric of the tent. "They attacked our landlord's homestead. It… It was, well," She hesitated, but continued on; though I felt her words were in itself a delaying tactic. "It wasn't a village mind ya, just tha land lord house's an six other families. We were about a half-days walk from the nearest village; but we had a few muskets an axes, an other weapons – even had a stubrifle. Enough ta keep ourselves safe. At least, we thought." She stops for a moment, either collecting her thoughts or steeling herself.

"Me an a few other girls were out in one of the outlier fields checking the drying stacks of the fairfax to make sure they could be woven later."

Fairfax was one of the unique grains in Farsight, just like grun wheat. Unlike grun wheat, which was often grounded into powder to be used as flavoring, the grains fairfax yielded were often turned into biscuits and hardtack due to its flavorless but long-lasting qualities. It's main use though, was that its stalks could be dried and later woven into vests and jackets. While it was rigid and didn't help much with heat retention, clothes made from fairfax stalks were excellent wind-breakers, and were a popular outer layer of clothing for the poorer parts of Farsight society. It was one of the earlier stories that Waverly told me about, how her family would be busy for weeks after each harvest drying and weaving all the fairfax stalks.

"It was getting dark, and we were all about ta head back to the homestead when we heard these rattling noises. We were alarmed, but not scared, ya know? Chatterguns were new back then, an not one of us knew what they sounded like. So we just thought the Landlord's boys were having fun with some firecrackers. At least… until we heard the first musket shot." I do not know what a musket sounds like, but I am sure it has a distinct sound.

"We heard one shot, then another, there was no mistaking it. The chattering though, it kept on and on… We ran back to the homestead as fast as our feet could carry us. Stupid of us, b-but we didn't even know what was happening, just that it was bad. Luckily, we saw old Darvic halfway there. H-he was a neighbor, also tended the landlord's fields." She then audibly sniffles. I scoot closer and wrap one of my arms around her shoulders. It is a little bit awkward as we are both lain down, but she adjusts her body position to let it happen.

"He spotted us, started gesturing to us to stop. Barely said anything, but Emperor, the look in his eyes... We hid behind an outcropping in the middle of the fields. Darvic… he had t-this dagger. Kept on holding it, kept on muttering too. His arms were shaking. We just kept on hiding… even after we saw the homestead burning. By the time Darvic led us back to the homestead, it was dark." By now we are fully embracing, facing each other. It reminds me of when I was younger, crying into Mother's embrace. As I softly pat her head (emulating Mother), I note she has slightly broader shoulders.

"We found the priest at the edge of the homestead. He was there, burying the bodies. Mother and father had their heads covered in cloth… I couldn't find any of my brothers." Her sniffles are joined by a sob. "I… I k-kept on asking the p-priest why they had to k-kill mother? Father, he was shot, I could accept that. He was a hunter… But mother? Why? The… they… her throat. Her clothes were bloody and messed up… rips everywhere. B-brothers n-nowhere." She is sobbing freely now.

"Its ok…" I whisper softly, slowly consoling her. I keep reassuring her with calming words, even as the realization of what happened to her mother hits me. Father, why did you make me read those dossiers?

"I k-kept on asking w-why they had to beat her to death… but the priest wouldn't answer. He j-just said she resisted too much." There was silence after that. Her sobs gradually dies down as I continue to coo heartfelt reassurances.

"Wavy… Did you hold a funeral? For your parents?" I eventually ask.

She sniffles faintly before answering. "Y-yes. We did. There were a few shovels left, so we dug their graves, along with tha graves of everyone else they killed. The priest gave em the Emperor's Blessing."

Burial. That was another new concept. The people of Farsight dug holes in the ground, lowered the cadavers of their loved ones into it, and then resealed it after some final farewells. That is a funeral for Forsightians. When a location or area is used only for funerals, it is called a graveyard. Graveglade Rest, where we are staying right now, is also a graveyard filled with heroes and wise ones long departed. Both Wavy and the other Forsightians believed that this was a holy ground, they even have a special week where people would set up camps within Graveglade in a type of pilgrimage.

"So, you managed to send them off?" I continue.

"Yeah… I sent them off."

"That is good then. It is a blessing to be able to attend you parents' funeral. Both for you and for them."

"Really?"

"Yes. There was this saying, back in the Hive, 'Blessed are the departed dead whose offspring their funeral attend.'" I quote. "Life was busy, and the bodies of the dead had to be removed quickly. So if you were lucky enough to have any family attend your funeral, it was considered a very personal blessing from the God-Emperor."

"Ah… Wow. Ya can't even attend yer parent's funeral there? Everyone attended the burials back in the homestead… before that happened." She mumbles in a morose fashion.

"People would if they could, but between how long it took you to know about the death and how long it would take to travel back home, the only people that could attend were usually the people who were close by when you passed away." I pause for a moment. "I'm sure a lot of the people who were buried that day had no family to mourn them, but your parents did, even if it was only you."

It takes a few moments for my words to sink in. It was something Mother would always do whenever I lost something; reminding me of what I had left, what I managed to do.

"Yeah. Count your blessing eh?" She eventually replies, starting to shrug off her inner gloom.

"Sure thing. I'm happy I met you." I give her head a small pat before I slowly relinquish her.

"So am I. Winter… did you attend your parents' funeral?" We are back to our original positions, though now there isn't any space between us. I feel her arm next to mine.

"Yeah. I was lucky, I saw them off." I said, trying to dodge the specifics.

"Yup…" She trailed off.

After some silence, I decided to change the subject to happier topics.

"Hey, Wavy, do you know one of funniest things I learned back in the Adept Schola?" I say, trying to inject a light-hearted tone into my words.

"Hm...?"

"The Mechanicus hates accountants. One of my instructors used to tell the class that all the time."

"Accountants?"

"Yup. Accountants are a special type of adept that usually works for the Administratum. The machine spirits of the equipment that the Mechanicus provides to their workplaces have a reputation for being deviously mischievous." I laugh to myself. "All because those poor souls have to calculate the depreciation values."

I still find it very amusing, really. By logical thought, any type of machine, no matter how well maintained, will slowly degrade from wear and tear. So obviously as the machines get older, any accountant would adjust their values. Degradation of equipment means the depreciation of its monetary worth. To the Mechanicus though, saying that age and value are inversely proportional amounts to blasphemy. Quite literally in some cases. What's more, they are often right, especially with all the relic machinery present in the Imperium.

Turning my body slightly to face Wavy, I smile slightly at her before I continue. "Here, let me explain what depreciation is all about…"

Ok… So nothing bad is happening so far. They're no longer hugging. Back to monitoring duty then. Readjusting my magnoculars I return to sweeping the area around them. I've seen a few patrols from the Mourning Knights stray close to the camp, but they seem happy enough to leave the girls undisturbed. To be honest though, this idea of monitoring Winter seems more and more pointless by the minute.

I managed to get a good and concealed position on one of the knolls around the glade. Their tent wasn't exactly close to my hideout, but with the magnoculars I have it won't be a problem. Enhanced with both infra-red and photo-enhancers, I could track their thermal signatures just fine with it.

Why did I decide to do this again? I think, recounting my reasoning. First, I don't trust the Mourning Knights. Second, perhaps I still feel a bit jumpy because of that diner shootout. Third, it is Winter's first sleepover since she became my charge, and Wavy had to bring her camping… in the middle of a graveyard. That is more than enough justification; I'm not pushing back anything important either. Besides, this is relaxing.

It hits me when I realize that I haven't done any old fashioned stakeouts for years now. Ever since I became a Herald, it turned into a rare occurrence. Well, I guess I should enjoy it while it lasts.

I suddenly tense, the sound of a cracking branch alerting me to the presence of someone nearby. Reacting quickly, I duck into the natural indentation of the ground, shifting my camo-cloak to cover myself completely. With my own eyes covered, I must rely on my hearing.

Soon afterwards, I hear the sound of boots and the slight clanking of armor. It is pair of Mourning Knights, judging from the amount of footfalls. Why did they come this way? No paths led to this knoll.

They trudge wordlessly past the thicket of bushes I hid myself behind, but they stop no long afterwards.

They must be looking for a vantage point as well.

"Kay' we're here now Forward. Wanna continue that talk?" Says a gruff male voice.

"That tent over there. Whose is it?" Answers a feminine voice in a much lighter tone. I strain to hear what she says.

"Two campers, both juvies. Don't think they're really here to pay their respects, but they seemed like a kind pair of girls. Both of em' are orphans." The male voice replies, his voice loosing some of its impatience as he did so.

"You know a lot about them." She gave her words as a statement.

"Yes. Well, one of them. About a year ago…She was one of the girls we picked up at Footfall Port while we were doing a routine relief mission. Somehow, the girl managed to travel there all the way from the Fairfax Peninsula, pretty much all by herself." He said. "Anyway Forward, if you're gonna tell me something, tell me now. The lads'll notice our absence sooner or later."

There was a moment of pregnant pause before she answered.

"Do you remember about the little package we found?" Says Forward.

"You've got news about it?" His tone is anxious and words rushed. This must be a point of concern.

"Tracked down one of the runners. He works for the Manuels sir." My ears perk up at the mention of that name.

"Damn! Are you sure?" He asks, only to curse a few moments afterwards.

"Saint's sorrow, this utter cacol! That… that barely makes any sense! Why would they attack something that was going to be shipped to them anyway?!" I could hear his footsteps as he starts pacing.

"Well, the papers we found only said that the package had been shipped to Johan's Port before it was smuggled back. A disagreement of some kind could have happened in the last minute." She interjects coolly.

"Argh, Emperor damn this affair! Johan's Port is a Greenie stronghold. We all know that. And how long could you trace the paper trail back?"

"Nearly a decade, with regular shipments up until a year ago. I find it nearly unbelievable that it managed to pass though your intelligence nets for so long." Her voice has a teasing, if not exactly mocking, tone.

"Yes, why we're all a bunch of loyal servants of the law, aren't we?" He mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm. He makes another sound of frustration. "Look, I'll arrange your transfer back to the Capital, via Lifeline Goliath. I won't inform my superiors, but by the Emperor you should inform yours."

"Thank you. I am in your debt." Came Forward's voice… I notice that she sounds someone in the peak of her vitality. Probably in her late twenties or early thirties.

"We do what we can. Now hurry off, the change of the guard is soon. I need to be in my cabin."

"Of course." Forward responded. I hear her fading footsteps as she hurries down the knoll, she does not pass near me, so I assume she is using another route.

Her male accomplice loiters for a few moments, despite being the one to who ended their meeting. With a world-weary groan, he starts back down the road from which he came.

"Now I'll need to persuade that old grox to strengthen our complement in Footfall Port…"

Soon the sounds of his footsteps and voice rescind. I am alone once more, barely able to believe what had just happened.

I just eavesdropped vital information from a secret meeting; while hiding in the bushes because I was keeping tabs on Winter? Never in my life… My mind trails off, unwilling to compile just how absurd what just happened was.

Remembering my initial reason to be here, I quickly shift my body and head from under my camo-cloak and check on the tent, finding that the two were still awake, most likely chatting about something, judging from Winter's animated hand gestures.

On one hand, new avenues for investigation have opened up. On the other, I have evidence the Mourning Knights have been seeded with infiltrators. Not too surprising, but it is nice to have hard evidence.

Well damn it, back to guard duty then. I'll need to make a journey to Footfall Port as soon as possible. Should I invite Winter? I mull the subject for a few moments. No, still too soon, barely touched on combat and investigation techniques so far.

I bring the magnoculars back to my eyes, preparing to sweep the area around the tent once more.

Swinging the door open, my first order of business is to hide my surveillance equipment. Quickly storing them in the many hidden compartments in my abode, I am soon free to start brewing some recaff. It is still mid-morning, and I am sure Winter won't get home until midday.

So… first things first. Summary report. Then check the mail. Sitting down on the recliner, I flip the archival book open. Taking out my frindle, I start jutting down the details of yesterday's incident, along with what I could gleam of the two associates.

Two operatives, suspected from different organizations. First is a Female, operating on the alias 'Forward', early middle aged according to her voice. Highly suspected to be a mole. Mid to low ranking within the Mourning Knights. Suspect she is a specialist of some kind, since she seems to have high independence within her role. Enough to conduct her private investigations without being discovered.

The second operative is male, alias unknown. He is mid to high ranking, either within an administrative or leadership role. Can either influence or authorize transfer of personnel. Unsure whether he is only a sympathizer of Forward's organization, or is a turned operative from another faction. Age estimate is late middle aged.

The Female operative is being transferred to the Capital via the Lifeline Goliath, the only Omega-Class locomotive the Mechanicus has in operation on this planet [See codex entry on major transportation venues]. It is serving the transcontinental line between the Starport and the capital Saint Gabrea City. Exact date of transfer unknown, but "imminent", from pre-observed Mourning Knight efficiency, it should be within the week…

I continue to write for a few minutes, until I notice small scratching noises. It's from the window. When I walk over to it, I see a sight that immediately causes me to open the window.

It is a pigeon. Judging from the cerulean colored feathers, it must be Arklight's pigeon. I let the bird in, closing shut the window behind it, and pulling the curtains. As it perched on my sleeves, I extracted the messenger capsule. Letting the pigeon fly off to one of the wall hangers, I crack open the capsule.

As I unrolled the paper the capsule previously encased, I already have an inkling of what its contents might be. Arklight isn't supposed to use his carrier pigeon unless drastic actions were needed.

The inscription on the paper is more akin to a scrawl then writing.

=Mathias, I have found the road-wheeler type you wanted to purchase. There isn't any stock right now, but it will be shipped in soon. The Mechanicus will conduct an auction, perhaps even within the week. It will be in the Capital. There are others that will be joining the auction, most likely from the Capital area and the surrounding regions. If you want any chance to win it, I'd advise that you get your ass over here. This auction will be BIG. If we win this, I fully expect you to be paying me a bonus, and it better not be a deed for some piece of land in the outer islands again!=

Reading the code was simple, just a manner of code phrases and words. Road Wheeler, that means he found a lead on her, a very strong one. As I thought, his next words indicate that she isn't on Farsight, but would be returning soon. Auction, so there's a major upcoming event, relevant to Mediatorum interests. Happening soon, might even be within the week. It would affect the capital city and the surrounding regions. This city – Starstep city could be considered a neighbouring region…

Better not be a deed for some land… That meant I shouldn't try to meet Arklight in his office. I'd have to go to the prearranged meeting point.

Damn! This came at a bad moment. I might need to cancel my trip to Footfall port. Nonetheless, I trust Arklight. Simply sending this type of information through carrier pigeon instead of mail is enough indication of urgency.

I take a deep breath, and gaze at the message for a few moments.

Time to plan for the trip. We need to get tickets for the Lifeline Goliath. Winter won't like this.

"Winter… drop by every now and then, ok?" Waverly says, whilst hugging me tight.

"Sure thing, I'll drop by every time I come to this city." I reply, hugging her back. Hopefully, that won't be a lie.

We broke off the hug. I take a glance around the recaf shop, taking in the weathered but cheery ornamentation. I can't but shake the feeling this would be the last time I'd lay eyes on them. Millie, who'd been content to stand behind Waverly, now steps forward and gives me a pat on the shoulder, before turning it into a quick embrace of her own.

"Thanks for having me." I say with heartfelt gratitude. I probably wouldn't have become Waverly's friend if Millie hadn't called her over during my first visit to this recaff shop.

"We own you?" Millie replied in what seems to be confusion. Ah, I forgot that isn't the local way to say it.

Millie waves her hand before I could start, "Just joking, I know what you mean. Yeah, I don't mind having you over. Yer a great patron, so long as yer not spilling stuff all over my floor."

"That was an accident!" Waverly mumbles. No doubt preparing for another bout of teasing from the grinning bartender.

I smile, and Millie starts with a voice of mock despair. "Here I was, being such a nice lady, giving you both free drinks, and do ya drink it? Nope, you had to nock both of your tankards off the table."

"I know, I know! B'sides, I wiped the mess up myself. So quit it!" Waverly answers in frustration.

"'So quit it!' Is that what you say to woman who keeps a roof above your head?" Millie continues unfazed, inching her face closer to Wavy in an expression of exaggerated disappointment.

Our lighthearted banter is interrupted by uncle's voice. "Winter, the taxicab is here." Uncle Cyrus is standing at the door with our luggage in his hands.

I turn my head back at the two people who had fast become like relatives during my three-week stay here. "Well, I guess its goodbye."

"Yeah." Responds Millie, "What type of tickets did you get?" She asks Cyrus.

"Copper Throne single cabin." My uncle said in an uncharacteristic smile. "Figured she should have a view. Make up for how bad her journey to here was." He said, referring to how arduous the journey to this planet became due to orphanage agent Wakefields' miserly tendencies.

Millie laughs, and gives me a slap on the back. "Not bad! Not bad at all. The view from the cabin areas would be fantastic!" She then leans closer to me, her face turning serious. "Now chances are Uncle has already told you, but I'll just repeat what he said. The Lifeline Goliath can be a dangerous place; so don't wander around by yourself. Especially not to the lower decks"

Uncle nodded. "Yes, I've already informed her. We've heard too many rumors about kidnappers and gang-pressers there to ignore the possibility." He hears a honk from the taxicab, and mutters something under his breath before addressing me again. "Look Winter, I'll give you another 3 minutes to say goodbye while I load our baggage. No more delays after that." He gives a small nod of deference to Millie before storming off, no doubt to placate the impatient driver.

Millie had a soft smile as she watched him through the windows. "You're a lucky girl, you know that? Well I guess we should make the best of the three minutes we have left. Wavy, why don't you run to the pantry and get her some of our seasoned fairfax cakes. I think we still have a few in one of the jars next to the grummy powder."

"Ah, yeah! Winter, you'd love these!" Waverly instantly ran to the pantry, leaving the two.

"Ok, now listen up, this is important." Millie said, her voice lowering. "I thought you'd spend more time here so I put it off, but since your leaving, I'll just say it now."

My curiosity piqued, I nod, allowing Millie to start.

A.N: Well, thats a wrap! At first I wanted this to be two separate chapters, but I couldn't find a place where I could end the chapter without making it feel abrupt. I think I made a good call this time. A lot of character development and world-building (as well as foreshadowing) happened this chapter. Have any thoughts and/or comments? Then post a review! :)

Review Replies:

Heir of the Void: Thanks! Its always nice to be appreciated. You'll see the Green Faction again soon. As for what happens when they get desperate though... *Sinister Cackle*. I can't give away the plot but you can say that cultists will be involved.

Kamzil118: Glad the fic defied your expectations. For what its worth, this chapter is longer, and I start my holiday break tomorrow, so progress on the next chapter should be swifter then usual (i.e: usual as in once a month :P).