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Dearest Readers, never play with fire, for we are but mere twigs against the flame.
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THE HIDDEN SWORD

Book Two: Wandering Water | Chapter 55: Fire in the Ball (Part Three, Thank Goodness!)

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Supper was quite the spicy affair.

No longer caring if any nearby monster or bandit might hear, Irse screamed.

"What did you put in the stew, Edwin? Each one of the Nine Hells?" the elf spluttered, fanning at her mouth. By Tethrin, she had chowed down some zealously peppered dishes before, but nothing cooked up for the sole purpose of setting one's throat on fire.

"What are you blathering about? Are barbarian tongues so bland they'll ignite on a single chili?"

"A single chili? You stirred in an entire bush!"

"If you must know, these uncivilized lands yield the most inferior peppers. One may grind them to powder and steep them in water for a Thayan infant to feed on, and the brat will wail at its lack of substance. (Why do you think I had to waste an entire jar of it just for this serving?)"

Done with desperately chugging the waterskin, Irse glowered at the Red Wizard who continued to nonchalantly slurp his portion without so much as a single sweat bead. Yes, it was rude to complain about food that one didn't cook. Especially, when one's culinary skills qualified as either poisoning or accidental assault with things that shouldn't be in a stew. But the fire in her mouth refused to be quenched.

"It still burns!"

Edwin scoffed in the manner of a grizzled general thumbing his nose at a rookie crying over a stubbed toe. "We have neither milk nor yoghurt in our provisions. Find yourself something sweet or starchy and nurse on it."

Eager for relief, Irse hasted to rummage through the bundles. "We have some bread, but I'd rather save it for tomorrow. There's a biscuit tin here, something's written on its lid." Little pictures instead of letters, certainly not scribbled in Thorass. She held it up for the Red Wizard to translate.

Edwin craned his neck, squinting through the dim firelight. "A warning in Mulhorandi script – These delicacies are reserved solely for Mistress Lasala. Appropriate it for yourself without her permission and suffer the consequences."

"Oh, so it's your friend's? I'll leave it alone, then."

"That devious harridan is no ally of mine. Open it and take half for yourself. Lick the rest if you wish to avenge the innumerable souls who have agonized under that shrew's torturous hectoring."

Irse shrugged. For justice and her suffering tongue. With ease she popped open the lid and sniffed at the heavenly buttery aroma freed from within the tin. Sugar cookies! A quarter of the contents did the trick.

"Ahhh. Sweet relief," she slurred, crumbs dotting her chin like stubble.

Over the next half hour, the two busied themselves with their tasks. Irse cleaned and stowed their dinnerware, then briefly patrolled the surroundings. After that, Edwin set up a magical ward, cutting up what looked like a vulture's feather and placing the pieces in a rough perimeter around their camp. A quick chant and a wraithlike barrier shimmered for a moment. Satisfied with his work, the wizard settled down to study his spell book.

Edwin wanted the elf to be on the lookout from midnight until sunrise, citing her kind's need for little to no rest. But the ward ought to be enough in keeping them safe, right? Still, he insisted. Maybe it wasn't creatures with fur and hide that bothered him, rather the ones on two legs, red robes, travels in packs, and bristling with the same disdain that Edwin has for them. Indeed, it wouldn't do to be caught unawares by those.

Irse contented herself with watching the fire and snacking on the rest of the biscuits from Lasala's tin. It was still hours before the start of her watch, precious few hours she should be spending asleep to prepare for night watch. If only she hadn't accidentally burned her bedroll earlier.

If Okami were here, he would've given up his own for her, of that, she was sure. And should she insist on taking turns with the sleep sack, Irse knew he would make up some excuse to avoid depriving her – whether it be something about soldiers being used to dozing on their feet, or claim it the perfect opportunity for him to meditate the entire night. Irse sighed deeply, and a little too loudly for the other to hear.

"Why are you still awake? (And likely to pester me with inane conversation.)"

"I'd sleep right now, but my bedroll was the last casualty of my attempts at boiled vegetable soup."

Edwin narrowed his eyes at her then resumed skimming through his spell book as the elf sulked and stared some more into the fire. No use in delaying the inevitable, then. Arranging her own pack into a makeshift pillow, Irse laid herself down and curled to one side. Ground, hard. Grass, cold. A whole gang of small stones poked her in the ribs. Petulantly, Irse groaned and shifted to the other side. Not even a tenth of a candle had passed, and she muttered angrily and tossed and turned, smacking at the bag.

"Can you not disturb my concentration by expressing your discontent in complete silence? (Aren't elves supposed to be so savage they can rest on any uncultivated environment, even sleep on trees?)"

"I'm sorry to dispel the rumors, but elves also need beds." Sullen, she leaned back against her pack, clicking her tongue until an idea flickered in her mind. Grinning wide, she scrabbled on all fours towards the wizard.

"Edwin," she hissed, poking him repeatedly in the arm.

"What!"

"Lend me your bedroll."

"I will absolutely not. (Sleep on an ant mound for all I care!)"

"It's only for a few hours. Wouldn't you rather I'm well-rested and wide awake later in case something big and nasty like the demon bunny stomps through the ward?"

The Red Wizard ground his jaw while pondering the request. "Fine, you may use my traveling mattress until midnight. So long as you don't wrinkle it too much. (An inconvenience, but sometimes even unreasonable perquisites must be factored into your henchman's compensation.)

"Hurray!" Irse cheered as she made a mad dash for one of the bundles and hasted to pull out the sleep sack – more like a sleeping set. A lightweight narrow mattress sewn and packed with down, a thin oiled sheet to serve as protection from the bare ground, a woolen blanket, and even a small bolster. These Red Wizards sure know how to travel well.

Soon she had cocooned herself to her satisfaction. Only one more request. "Hey, Edwin!"

"What, again!"

"If you need to wake me for anything, remember – don't try to touch me. Just holler."

"And why is that?"

"I sleep with the tachi under the covers. Been practicing how to draw and slice straight from waking, in case of an ambush. And not to brag, but I've gotten quite good at it."

Edwin glared at her, swallowing a lump in his throat, before turning back to his spell book with an angry mutter.

"Oh, and don't worry. I'll only need to rest my eyes for a couple of hours, then you can have your bedroll back."

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"Sorry, I overslept."

Irse cheekily yawned her apology, followed by a lazy arm stretch. Evidently still too groggy from staying up late and debating with himself whether to risk untimely dismemberment by waking the elf even from a considerable distance then finally giving up and sleeping on the hard ground instead, Edwin could only scowl at her with red-rimmed eyes as he gathered his things.

They set off right after breakfast and within a few hours of walking, the pair finally found Denak and his acolytes. The other Red Wizards have made their camp beside the ruins of what was once a marble platform, cracked with intruding vines and smeared with the dust of ages, bordered by wide-based columns now halved and crumbling.

"Aww, they haven't been eaten by giant spiders," Irse said from the side of her mouth.

"My hopes and dreams so cruelly dashed to pieces," Edwin muttered dryly.

The oldest of the wizards, sporting graying temples, paced upon the platform, preoccupied with reciting from a tome before him, a red chalk in the other hand. A man and a woman busied themselves with taking inventory of various items in a pack. Another woman hovered anxiously over a large grilled brazier on which she was broiling a giant spider's leg and egg sac. Components for a spell or what might count for a Thayan's idea of brunch.

One of the women sighted them first, uttering something in what Irse guessed might be Mulhorandi, gesturing at the others. All three ceased with their tasks and approached the pair.

Clearly, pleasant greetings weren't being exchanged between Edwin and his fellows. Not a single word did she understand from their talk, but from their manner and tone, it was clear how much little affection and respect these Red Wizards held for each other. Irse snorted and examined her fingernails. At least she wasn't getting paid to talk to them, if they're anything worse than Edwin.

"Ask them if they've seen Okami," she whispered, nudging him in the arm.

Edwin rolled his eyes then relayed the question in their own language. One of them crossly barked what anyone would surely interpret as an irked 'no'. To confirm, Edwin cast her a grave look and a quick shake of his head. Irse sighed in deep disappointment and nodded her thanks at the three other mages.

But then the young man trained his eyes on the elf and drawled something which made the other women size her up, their obviously unfavorable appraisal concluded with snippy giggles among the three and a tight-lipped scowl from Edwin. Well, she wasn't getting paid to be insulted, that was for certain.

"Hey," Irse snarled, leveling a fist at the man who was startled into sudden silence. "If you have something to say to my face, why don't you say it in Common, huh? Or are you scared of me because your wand gets limp too soon after sputtering nothing but blank missiles?"

The women gaped at her, wide-eyed, then burst into tittering laughter. Edwin's lip twitched in unconcealed amusement even as the other mage flustered.

"Is that so? Odesseiron! Tell this arrogant barbarian not to speak out of turn and to respect her betters," he spat in Common, pointing at the elf.

"Oh, Brendan, you wretched little fool," Edwin said with a sneer. "You could have told her yourself if you weren't so afraid of the fact that her sword is much bigger than your own stub of a staff."

Brendan's eyes bulged at the jibe. He made a step towards Edwin but stopped when the older mage at the platform called to them.

"Alakir Edwin Odesseiron," the man addressed him, an imperious emphasis on the rank.

With great effort, Edwin returned the greeting with a stiff nod. "Barakir Denak Alharkha."

The rest of the conversation went on in their own language, Denak's manner indicating impatience while Edwin's replies carried the inflection of a protest. Only when the older mage mentioned a familiar name – that of the Zulkir Nevron, the Reddest Wizard among them, did Edwin appear to acknowledge the Barakir's words with forced humility. Then Denak cast his gaze on her. He murmured an obvious question to which Edwin seemed to have been caught unaware.

"She- the elf," Edwin suddenly stammered in Common. "Is not intended for any involvement in the ritual. A mere hireling, nothing more. I aim to pay the agreed dues and send her away immediately. She will not speak to anyone of this, I assure you."

Denak appeared surprised at the change in tongue and tone, but nevertheless chuckled mirthlessly as he eyed the young elf and addressed them in Common, his voice teasing and challenging. "But you do know the prerequisites to ensure her acceptability, do you not? Youth, innocence, unspoiled by the touch of a -"

"She shared my bedroll, the whole night until dawn!" Edwin exclaimed in atypical panic.

Everyone stared at the elf. Irse stared back, puzzled. An odd thing for Edwin to say, but it wasn't an untruth.

"Why yes, I did. The mattress and blanket were comfy all right, but too narrow. Not enough space for my sword, right, Edwin?" she ribbed him.

One of the women grimaced while the other wagged her head in disgust and mumbled, "Ew."

"What do you mean by 'Ew'?" Edwin spat, affronted. "As if the brothels did not drown their male courtesans in disease curatives after servicing you, Diana. And you, Lasala, I know of the baseless rumors you've been spreading that my prowess is mediocre in the bedchamber. So obvious to all how you're still smarting after the entire Conservatory heard of my rejection of your desperate pathetic advances."

Both women's eyes widened with fury. Irse winced and cupped her grin.

"Slander!"

"You dare, Odesseiron!"

"Enough!" Denak interrupted them. "Edwin, I am disappointed that you thought of your own pleasure before the needs of our organization. Regardless, the elf might still suffice in aiding us to achieve success in this venture."

"Me?" Irse thumbed at herself. "Do you want my help with something? It'll cost you extra on top of what I'm getting from Edwin."

Denak frowned, seemingly mystified at her response. Irse raised a skeptical brow. It was then that Edwin drew himself up, a sudden confident expression on his face.

"You seek an offering, but why is one necessary at all? Is the great Barakir so lacking in confidence in his ability to bind his summons that he must resort to bribing a fiend of the lowest rank? Or is it because he has wasted all of the project budget on his orcish manwhores that he is seeking to weasel his way out of compensating a service duly rendered?"

"What did you just say, Odesseiron?" Denak growled.

"Enduring an internship with the Draxkirs for an entire summer revealed to me some interesting aspects of your dealings. While apprenticing to those ledger-lickers, who did you think was tasked to process your numerous projects' purchase orders and record them in the 'Exotic Entertainment Representation Ledger', hmmm? Or perhaps the Voskir might be interested as to why the resources poured into your expensive and extended expeditions are yet to yield any returns? You forget – I hold custody of all the receipts!"

"Is that a threat? Think not your familial ties with the Tharchion of Surthay will spare you from a long-overdue and painful demotion."

"Please, Denak. I have no need to drag around the names of my illustrious kindred like some baby blanket. (Unlike you, clinging to the hem of your doubly incompetent brother's robe. I should be a Nashkir and not that brownnoser!)"

Denak's face twitched, and his grip tightened on the chalk. For a moment Irse expected him to snap and fling it like one of her former and less-indulgent tutors in Candlekeep had been wont to do with a pair of incorrigible children. However, it was Lasala who rose to the bait.

"Leave Degardan out of this," she snarled. "He attained his position by dedication and not being an insufferable dissident like you."

"So eager to defend one who is not here," Edwin needled. "I suppose the easily duped is deserving of your loyalty after one night with a jilted harpy that is you."

At Lasala's livid screech, the others finally joined in the trade of tirades. Yet clearly Edwin was in his element and enjoying it all a little too much. This might take all day, might as well find something to eat while waiting for them to run out of barbs to toss at each other, if they ever will. Sighing, Irse left them, strolling towards something which had piqued her interest since they arrived here.

Upon the grilled brazier, the spider leg and egg sac sizzled and crackled merrily. Oh, how it reminded her of bacon and eggs frying in a pan. Except, it didn't smell like bacon and eggs at all. Nothing a pinch of seasoning couldn't fix. Irse peered into a nearby bag full of jars and pouches, reaching in and pulling out a small decanter of red powder. Must be Thayan chili. Pack still slung on one shoulder, she casually popped the cork with her free hand.

"Keep your unlearned hands off the powdered magma mephit or you'll spill it all over the phase spider's entrails!" Diana shrieked at the elf.

Brendan tutted at the other wizard. "Do not get so worked up. Clearly this savage has no magical talent, especially for a teleportation spell. Nothing will happen even if she combines the ingredients and say the verbal components."

Edwin glared knowingly at Irse, his brows twitching up. "Yes, which is - Eleporttay emay awayyay otay ethay and then you say where you wish to go."

Irse squinted down at the brazier and canted her head, pondering. Not as if she was unfamiliar with teleportation. Wouldn't hurt to try, though the odds of the spell's success were as sure as a cursed dice, given her utter lack of magical aptitude.

"Like this?" The elf sprinkled the red powder all over the spider parts. "Eleporttay emay awayyay otay ethay Coast Way!"

Thunder rumbled, vaguely sounding like the coughing of the Powers that Be, followed by the familiar flash of darkness.

Irse blinked, then glanced around.

Here now, the elf stood once more at the side of the road where she first met the Red Wizard.

At least it saved her a lot of trouble walking back. And then horror dawned upon her as she realized something so disastrous, so unthinkably and crushingly awful.

Uncaring if any nearby monster or bandit might hear, Irse screamed.

"Edwin, you idiot! I can't believe you forgot to pay me!"

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Questioning Scribblings:

A short chapter to cap off the non-adventures of the Elf and the Red Wizard. XP

But is this the last that we'll see of Edwin Odesseiron? Will we ever find out if Denak and his Posse succeeded in their Summoning School Project? Stay tuned for more shenanigans! *ebil mwahahaha*

Why yes, I just Pig Latin-ed my way out of that verbal component. Some days you lose hours researching medieval roof structures for just a couple of sentences, or formulating a spreadsheet to automate the computations of height/elevations for Iriaebor's towers, map distances and estimated travel times. Then some days you're suddenly too lazy to dig around for actual DnD or BG spell incantations and just head straight for the nearest online Pig Latin translator instead. XD

A million thanks for your patience, Dearest Readers. Just two more stops along the way and we're on to a chunk of the main quest line in Book Three. Wait, it's almost Book Three? *PANIC*

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