Chapter 8 - The Stoneslinger and the Extollo War

The rest of the week passed by with little incident. Eventually, Saturday arrived, and the final preparations for the show were in order. Early that day, Azel made a trip to the Head to Tail boutique in the Sabbaton Towers to retrieve his costume.

During his rounds of practice, thoughts regarding how the robe would impact his movement on stage had resulted in him calling Nadine a number of times throughout the week. While she had always been cordial and accepting of his suggestions, Azel couldn't help but feel he had been rather demanding, and hoped that picking up the costume would not end up being too awkward.

Putting those thoughts aside, he headed to the custom order counter to speak with her. Nadine was quick to notice Azel approaching.

"Ah, Mr. Atrox! You're here quite early, I see."

"Yeah, I feel like it's better to show up early when I'm expected somewhere."

"And expected you are, love. I've already got your outfit ready for you."

"Great. Um, I'd like to thank you for putting up with my constant calling for changes. I know it can't have been pleasant having to deal with that…"

"No trouble at all! If anything, it's given me quite the insight as to your plans for the piece."

"M-my plans?"

"Well, surely asking for so many alterations to allow for better movement is a sign that you wanted something more than simple historical wear. Perhaps, if I may take a guess, you intend to wear the robe to perform in."

"Ah, well, that's…"

"Oh, your tail is rattling, love. Well, I suppose I am prying at this point. Your plans are none of my business."

"Ah, right. So, anyway, you said the robe is ready now?"

"Well, ready as in prepared to send you off with. In truth, it is wearable, but the seams are not quite up to my usual standards. It can be moved around in like you asked, but too much intense movement could make it come apart, just to warn you."

"Okay, no strenuous movement then. I'll have to remember that."

Nadine moved around behind the counter to grab a labeled bag, which she handed to Azel.

"Feel free to bring it back whenever to have the work properly finished."

"You're sure?"

"Of course, love! I wouldn't want to leave you with an unfinished outfit, even if it is technically what you asked for."

"Alright then, I'll keep the offer in mind. And thank you again for getting it made on such short notice."

"Like I said, it's no trouble. Thank you for your business, Mr. Atrox."

With his business concluded, Azel left the boutique with his new costume and headed back to Ruskol. With only the rest of the day left for a proper dress rehearsal, he made quick work returning to the Dry Vein to properly acquaint himself with Nadine's work.

Lucia arrived to work at the Hall of Records with a spring in her step. After a dull week of the usual routine, Saturday had finally come around, and with it the promise of Azel's next show to liven up the night. Taking up her usual position in the lobby, it was not long before Cato showed up to speak with her.

"Miss Santoro. You're looking much more energetic than usual today."

"Oh, hi, Mr. Cato. I've just got some plans for tonight that I've been waiting for this whole week."

"I see. I hope for your sake these plans will not end up with you late to work for a second Sunday in a row."

"I've already got it figured out, really. Last week was more of an impulsive thing."

"So you say. Well, I'll leave you to attend to your duties, then. We shall see if you've actually learned from your mistakes by tomorrow."

Cato left the lobby, allowing Lucia to breathe out in a sigh. Her "mistakes" as he phrased it were simply the result of no time to prepare for Azel's first show. With a whole week to work with, Lucia was able to look up transportation services in central Ruskol and pick out a system that worked for her schedule.

She had found a groundcar service that she could take to a watercar station further south in the district. The watercar would then take her all the way back to Theophanies on a scenic route through the Calypsa and Norvondire districts. It would be a lengthy trip, but it gave her just enough time for a quick rest in bed before having to get up for work. Coffee could carry the weight of any exhaustion from there.

With her plans for the night already accounted for, Lucia had only to wait out the remainder of her shift. The waiting quickly turned into impatience, though, and Lucia found herself using the data-scroll to review her return trip plans in place of anything better to do.

In a brief moment of clarity before her shift ended, Lucia considered that she would also have to record the show when she went to see it. She had been quick to agree for Mead's sake, but it had only now dawned on her that she had very little recording experience.

Azel's first show had been expansive, taking over the entire bar with an illusory battle. Questions of how she would do that sort of act any justice while limited to a single camera lens started filling Lucia's mind. After a moment, she rationalized that everyone watching the show would be limited to what they could see from their respective places in the bar, so whatever was recorded with the camera would not be very different to the experience of an ordinary viewer.

With such thoughts easing her concerns, Lucia noticed that her shift had finally come to an end. She promptly returned home, where she prepared for the night by switching into a nice dress and thick coat. Having finished getting her outfit ready, she reviewed her trip plans one more time. With everything in order, she departed Theophanies and headed off to see the show.

Mead awoke on Saturday morning full of energy. After what felt like an eternity of waiting, Azel's second show would be tonight. Even though she wouldn't be able to see it personally, she could still show up for her shift and wish her favorite coworker well.

Mead got out of bed to prepare for the day. Her parents had thankfully already left for the morning, giving her the place to herself. They were no doubt already working on business schemes to wring more lucre out of their hard-working investees. If they had any say in what she did for work, she would probably be learning how to do it too, rather than actually putting in the effort to earn her paychecks.

She and Azel were nothing like that. From Mead's perspective, Azel had always been one of the few employees of the Dry Vein that, like her, really understood the value of hard work. Her shifts spent in the kitchen with him before he started performing showed her he had a careful, meticulous, and passionate side. Azel was someone who always made sure to put his best into whatever he did.

That didn't stop when he shifted focus to working on his show. Even though she saw less of him from that point, Mead could tell that Azel had been putting his heart and soul into preparing for the performance. The fact that he was using his power to make it all happen just made it feel all the more that the show was an expression of who he truly was, with the laws against power use doing nothing to hold him back.

Putting her thoughts aside, Mead prepared and enjoyed a quick breakfast before returning to her room to prepare her uniform. It was a fresh two piece set of a white dress shirt and black pants, with the shirt specially tailored to fit her wings and four slender arms. She carefully put the outfit on before covering up with her usual coat, and headed out to the telepad station.

Arriving at the Dry Vein shortly after, Mead wasted no time finding Azel. As she had expected, he was in the Mirage Bar getting ready to practice. She headed up to the stage to talk with him for a bit.

"Hey, Azel! Just wanted to stop by to wish you luck!"

"Oh, hey, thanks. I've been getting ready all week and I honestly still feel kind of nervous."

"You've got this! When have you ever done something less than amazing?"

"What, aside of any social interaction with someone I don't know?"

"Hey, you're not that bad at talking to people!"

"Sure, I've been getting better, but you haven't seen me at my worst. Tail rattling up a storm, stumbling over every other word. It'd almost be funny if it weren't so awkward."

"Well, you have been getting better, right? Good enough to stand up in front of a bunch of strangers and talk about how the anti-powers law is wrong, anyway!"

"That's… not as different as I was about to say. Heh, that actually really puts it in perspective."

"See? You'll do great, Azel. I'm sure of it! And even if you slip up, the show must go on, right?"

"That is what they say. You know, I bet you could handle being on stage a lot easier than me."

"Maybe, but you've also got the perfect power for performing. I don't even know mine yet." Mead paused in thought. "Oh! Maybe you could teach me how to use my power sometime!"

"Huh. That's an idea. Where would I even begin…" Azel gave it a few moments of thought, then smirked. "Hang on, am I being a bad influence here? Corrupting the innocent and all?"

Mead burst into laughter. "Azel," she said between laughs, "we work in a place with an underground bar that sells black market fermentae! 'Innocent' was off the table the moment we came in here!"

"Well, when you're right, you're right," Azel said with a laugh. "You know, it's been good talking, but I think we should get back to work. We're still on the clock and all."

"Oh, right! Well, it was good to at least see you today, Azel! Good luck with the show! I can't wait to see how it turns out!"

With that, Mead left Azel to get to work practicing. Returning to the pub to handle her shift, she couldn't help but smile. Knowing that she brightened Azel's day would be enough to carry her through the rest of her shift with an unshakeable good mood.

The cold night air of the Ruskol District blew around Lucia once again as she departed from the district tower. Rather than chilling her to the bone, however, she was merely feeling the cold this time. A combination of experience and the thicker coat she wore gave her the energy to make it to the Dry Vein with much less discomfort than she felt on her first trip. When she entered the pub, Lucia noticed Mead was already there to greet her.

"Lucia! You made it!"

"Of course. You've still got the Diony Mirage on tap tonight, right?"

"Wanna head down to the cellar with me to go check?"

Lucia smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. "Lead the way, I'd love to."

The two headed down through the mine shaft cellar, making some small talk as they went. Eventually, they approached the door to the Mirage Bar. A repeat of Mead's usual password knock revealed Petru, holding a video camera. He smiled as he saw the two of them.

"Ah, Luce. Good to see you could make it." He handed her the camera. "I trust you'll be able to handle recording the show?"

"I don't have much experience, really, but I'll do my best."

"I believe in you, Lucia!" Mead gave Lucia a hug. "Thank you. I'm glad you're up to doing it!"

"Thanks. If it lets you see the show, I'm happy to help."

"On that note," Petru said, "you should probably get going, Mead. Wouldn't want your parents to get mad at us again."

"Uuggh, I still wish I could stay. But I know." She forced a smile before turning to leave. "Have fun watching for me!"

Mead left the cellar quickly, leaving Lucia and Petru to continue speaking.

"Poor kid. I wish there was a way I could let her stay…"

"I know, right? She deserves that much at least."

"Well, it can't be helped. Back to business. I'm gonna need twenty lucre from you before I let you in."

"Right," Lucia said, producing a bill, which she handed to Petru. "Only the first time's free."

"Well, I gotta pay for all of this somehow. Between the government's fermentae taxes and Mead's parents demanding a return on investment, I still have to make enough to keep this place open."

"And somewhere in that balancing act there's the black market."

"Sure, but my dealing with the Marks is much more of an asset than that. They're practically a charity for the modest cut they want from selling their product."

"It's that good of a deal?"

"There's a bit more to it, but yeah. And to think everyone calls them bandits when it's the people on the legal side of things getting away with robbery by comparison!"

"I guess there's a lot more to it than what the law would say."

"For sure. But I've kept you waiting long enough. Head on in, get comfortable."

Lucia went into the bar. It had hardly changed from the week before, but she could see Azel at the counter speaking with Percy. She headed over to speak with them.

"Hey, Azel, Percy. Good to see you again."

"Oh, hey. We were just talking a bit before the show."

"Ah, Lucia! Good to see you. Feel like getting a drink this time? You've still got a free one to redeem."

Lucia paused to consider the option. "Yeah, I think I'll go for one. Do you know what Mead's favorite flavor would be?"

"That'd be the Forreyd Summer Meadow brew, it's a flower tea blend. Kind of sugary, too. Got a few bottles of it if you're interested."

"Just the one will be fine, thanks."

Percy looked at the shelf for a moment, then grabbed a Scinter's Mark bottle with a reddish liquid inside and placed it in front of Lucia. A rich floral scent poured from the bottle when she opened it.

"Thanks, it's not what I'd usually get, but if Mead likes it, it must be pretty good."

"You're drinking for her then?" Azel spoke up.

"Yeah, I figured I'd do it so Mead can be here in spirit at least."

"It's nice, I like that. Still wish she was here though."

"You're going to miss having one less girl staring at you, huh?"

"I, that's… That's one of your jokes again. Almost got me there."

"Hey, you really are getting the hang of it! I thought I'd get to hear your tail rattle for a bit there!"

"Heh, not this time. I seriously do miss having her here though. Livens the place up."

"Yeah. At least she won't be missing the show though. Got the camera right here to record everything."

"About that, I thought about your suggestion and added some more to the act. It might be a bit rough to pull off, but if I can do it, it might make the show's message even stronger."

"Really? I'll look forward to seeing it then."

"Speaking of," Percy said, interrupting the conversation. "It's about ten minutes till showtime, Azel. You'll need to get dressed up and on stage soon."

"Oh, shit, time always creeps up like that." Azel stood up to head for the stage. Before leaving, he turned to Lucia again. "We can talk some more later, after the show."

Azel moved quickly to get to the stage and prepare for the show. Lucia, for her part, left the bar and took a seat at one of the center tables. With only a few more minutes before the show began, she turned the camera on and started recording.

Azel emerged from behind the curtains wearing an ornate hooded robe. Fine white cloth with a gold trim covered his upper body ending at the halfway point of his legs. Gold lines ran along the length of the robe, twisting intricately before culminating at a gold circle where the heart would be. While the audience took in the sight, Azel began to speak.

"In some of the earliest records of Anduruna's history, there are tales of an ancient war between our people and another dreamkeeper culture. The Serapeans, or Extollo, whose priestly garments I am currently adorned with, were a people who worshiped a singular goddess who they believed granted them their powers.

"These Serapeans sought to bring Anduruna under their goddess's influence by conversion or subjugation. Their use of powers made them a deadly force to that end, one that we surely could not have withstood without using our own powers against them.

"Tonight, I am here to present to you a story from that time, pulled from the very records of Sacrare's history! Today they may decry powers, but when they were needed to save us from the ravages of war, the users of those same powers were given the highest honor in scripture. So without further ado, I give you the tale of the Stoneslinger, and his role in the Extollo War!"

Azel's halo whirred into existence over his head. With a dramatic bow sweeping his leg across the stage, the appearance of the bar began to change. Stone walls were soon replaced with the image of the outside world at night. The Sky Road surrounding Anduruna could be seen where the wall opposite the door was. A young squirrel boy clothed in loose furs could be seen running into the bar area from one of the border gates.

The Stoneslinger was born to a family of farmers living in the Theophanies region of ancient Anduruna, a voice similar to Azel's echoed through the bar. Upon reaching his adolescence, he was expected to develop his power in the hopes of using it to support his family's farm.

A gray halo appeared above the boy's head. Picking up a rock from the ground, he threw it at a nearby tree with great force, his halo flaring as he did. A loud crack pierced the air as the rock made contact with the tree, leaving a sizable hole in the bark.

Unfortunately, the boy's power was of no use for farming. He could use it to imbue small objects with deadly force and accuracy, but this left much to be desired when working fields and tending to crops. In the eyes of his deeply religious parents, the spirits had seen fit to curse their child with a useless power.

The boy continued throwing rocks at various arbitrary targets. With each throw, a loud sound followed, and each target soon had a crater of its own.

Every night, the boy would go outside the city walls and put his power to use to vent his frustration. Every stone tossed would strike its target sure, until his anger was spent. It was on one such night that the boy began to see strange lights in the distance, too far from the city to have come from it. In a few days time, these lights were revealed to be a caravan of strangely clothed dreamkeepers.

The scenery shifted from night to day. Azel stepped down from the stage with an illusory group of people behind him, all wearing similar robes to his own. Another group of people clad in furs approached Azel from the Anduruna illusion. The boy could be seen lurking behind the older ones in the group.

"Heathens of the East!" Azel began in a sinister voice. "We come to you as prophets of the glorious and beautiful Serapis! She is the Dreamworld's one true goddess, and She has taken pity on you! She sees you, crawling behind your walls and prostrating yourselves before your false idols, and would instead have you bask in the glory of Her light! Renounce your ways and your wills, and we, the faithful of Serapis, will welcome you into Her fold!"

"You want us to betray everything we believe in, to sacrifice our very freedom, all to worship your goddess?" One of the Andurunans said. "And where was this Serapis of yours during our time of Dominion? No. The people of Anduruna stand with the spirits. They are our true salvation. Take your lone goddess and piss off!"

Azel, or rather the prophet, raised his hand towards the speaker. With a flash of his halo and a flick of his wrist, a thick red tendril shot from his hand and struck the Andurunan to the ground.

"Father!" The boy cried out, running to him. The prophet merely grinned and continued his rant.

"I don't believe you understand. You will bow before Serapis, or we will make you bow. The powers of all dreamkeepers are the gift of Serapis, and our faith in Her is rewarded with the greatest of these powers! You stand no chance resisting!"

"If these powers are a gift from Serapis," the boy said as he stood up from tending to his father. A rock rested in his hand. "Tell her she can take it back!"

The boy threw the rock, his power manifesting as he did. The prophet barely managed to dodge out of the way as the rock made a cratering impact where he once stood. He turned his eyes to the boy, and began to rattle his tail forcefully when he saw the boy's halo. Righting himself after the attack, the prophet began to speak again.

"Very well, heathens. It seems Serapis has given you powers of your own. Make no mistake though, this is not your salvation, but rather a test and a chance at glory for us, Her faithful. We shall depart for now. But know that we will soon return in force. Anduruna will bow before glorious Serapis, or its smoldering remains will be made to bow!"

Screaming the last words, the prophet and his group departed the scene. Returning to the stage, Azel began to narrate again.

The Serapeans, crudely referred to as Extollo by the faithful of Sacrare, were made to leave Anduruna. But in less than a year, their army arrived to wage war on the city. The Extollo were organized and well-trained in the use of their powers for combat. But Anduruna stood resolute against the invaders, with its people bringing their own powers to bear against the foreign threat.

The scenery changed again, now bearing the scars of war. Serapean siege engines dotted the area around the wall, and skirmishes between Andurunans and Extollo could be seen happening all around the scene. The boy was in the center of the scene, now slightly older and equipped with crude leather armor and a satchel full of sharpened stones. He was surrounded by a group of Serapeans with halos glowing over their heads, who stood ready to strike him down.

The Stoneslinger, as he now began to be called, was one such defender of our city. His power, once considered a curse from the spirits, was seen now as a necessary force for defense.

The Stoneslinger's halo glowed as he pulled stones from his satchel. With deft movements, he threw the stones at his assailants while avoiding the effects of their respective powers. Each stone made its mark in a Serapean's brow without error, killing them instantly.

He quickly became renowned among the people of Theophanies as a hero. The Stoneslinger boasted many talents that made him stand out in the war. Not only was he capable of taking out multiple threats in open combat, but he could also lead tactical strikes against Serapean supply lines, crushing enemy morale by depriving them of resources.

The scene shifted to an Extollo caravan moving through the Starfall Forest at night. Several groundcars hauled by manekales drove along a barren road lined with trees, with a platoon of soldiers guarding them. In an instant, the caravan came to a halt as a stone flying from the darkness pierced the head of the manekale pulling the lead groundcar.

The caravan was then assailed by a guerilla troop of Andurunans, taking the soldiers out before they could react. Stones continued to fly from the darkness, swiftly striking the most imposing Extollo soldiers dead. With the caravan guards disposed of, the Stoneslinger emerged from the darkness, smiling at his fellow soldiers.

Eventually, after years fighting a war of attrition, the Extollo had no choice but to retreat or defect to Anduruna. But the Extollo War did not end there. The threat of Serapeum still lingered in the west. With this in mind, the army of Anduruna, with the Stoneslinger among them, marched to move the war to the borders of the Extollo's holy city.

The Andurunans had planned to turn the tables on their enemies, laying siege to Serapeum in return. But the Extollo had one more trick to fall back on, one which led to one of the most bloody conflicts in known history.

The scene shifted yet again, to the barren lands of the West. A massive city lay far off in the distance in the direction of where the bar's door would have been. From the opposite end of the scene, the Andurunan army was approaching.

In an instant, the illusory scene shuddered and heaved, causing the army to brace themselves. Their bracing did little to stop the movement of the ground beneath them, however, and the army ended up scattered around the area.

The sprawling lands before the city of Serapeum were ravaged by an earthquake which caught the Andurunans off guard. Worse still, in the midst of the quakes, the Extollo's army arrived unnoticed to the battlefield for their final battle: an all-out bloodbath known today as the Day of the Dueling Armies.

When the tremors ended, the army found themselves face to face with Serapean soldiers who were equally as scattered as they were. The two armies, though disoriented, quickly set to battling one another. On both sides, blades quickly met flesh and powers ignited the battlefield with destructive force. Screams from both sides calling for aid from their respective divinities went unheard in the chaos and were silenced only in death.

In the center of the bloodshed, the Stoneslinger looked around, striking any Extollo he could see in the chaos with power-laced stones. He only paused when his attention was drawn by a familiar sinister voice.

"YOU!" the prophet screamed. "The heathen brat who attacked me!"

"You're, it can't be! The Extollo prophet who attacked my father!"

"It's Serapean, you heathen scum!" The prophet hissed. A thought seemed to cross his mind, and he grinned. "Oh, yes, this is too perfect! Serapis has truly given me a chance for redemption! Your blood will water the ground as a sacrifice to Her immortal glory!"

The prophet cackled wildly. His halo flared bright as two tendrils emerged from the palms of his hands, which he began to swing at the Stoneslinger. The boy responded by pulling stones from his satchel and tossing them with his power to throw off the incoming attacks. Another stone aimed for the prophet's head was quickly intercepted by a length of one of the prophet's tendrils.

The two battled with increasing intensity, and soon the eyes of the bar patrons were focused on them exclusively. For every stone flung at the prophet, a tendril would block it, and for every lash of a tendril toward the Stoneslinger, a timely stone toss would knock it off course. The fight became like a frenetic dance, with the two combatants trading blow after blow but never scoring a decisive hit against the other.

In the heat of the battle, the prophet's robe started to sag and loosen on his body. Seams began to come undone from his intense movements, and soon the outfit began to fall off his body. Azel, having been so immersed in the act, only realized what was happening in the middle of dodging a stone tossed by his illusory opponent. As he tumbled to the ground from the narrow dodge, the robe he was wearing was nearly in pieces.

Azel's mind raced. With the whole audience watching, he could hardly manage to keep up the fight and preserve his modesty. His tail began rattling as he noticed a few patrons seemed to be laughing. With only a few moments to spare, he thought something up to close the fight and hopefully get eyes off of him long enough to get behind the curtains.

"Y-you dirty heathen!" Azel screeched, resuming his role as the prophet. "Not only do you disgrace the name of Serapis, but even the finery of Her faithful? Have you no shame!?"

"You're the shameless one, prophet! Challenging someone to a fight wearing that frivolous thing instead of proper armor! It's a wonder you managed to last this long without someone running a blade through your unprotected body!"

"FOOL! My faith in Serapis is the only armor I need!" The prophet's halo flared up yet again as he sent the pointed end of a tendril at the Stoneslinger. "You will DIE for questioning Her glory!"

The Stoneslinger said nothing as he grabbed one final stone from his satchel. He threw it aiming directly for the prophet's head.

Both attacks connected. The tendril pierced the Stoneslinger's heart at the same time as the stone lodged itself in the prophet's forehead.

"Serapis, w-what did I do wrong?" The prophet said, before collapsing dead.

"Spirits, thank you for your gift." The Stoneslinger said, as he fell to his knees and died.

With the deaths of the two combatants, Azel made some of the illusory soldiers close in on the area they had been fighting in. While the audience began watching the new fight unfold, he gathered the pieces of the robe that had fallen off and slunk behind the curtains.

Azel quickly shed the remains of the robe and changed back into his work uniform behind the curtains. As he did, he would occasionally check on the illusions he had running on autopilot to keep the audience's attention, to keep them from fading away. With his uniform redonned, he returned to the stage to finish the show.

The Stoneslinger was but one of the many casualties on the Day of the Dueling Armies, and the battle continued for hours until a rough third of each army remained. A truce between the cities of Anduruna and Serapeum was agreed to in short order afterwards, and both cities have kept to their own lands ever since.

The bar returned to its original state as Azel's halo vanished. After a moment of cheering from the audience, Azel began to speak one final time.

"Thank you! Thank you! The Serapeans fought us with their powers, and we were able to hold them back thanks to our own. Though the conflict had been bloody and terrible for both sides, imagine what could have been if the Andurunans of old had never used their powers. It's entirely likely that we would exist as the slaves of a foreign nation, rather than the free dreamkeepers we are today! Powers may have made our history a much more violent one, but without them, we would not have even made it past the dawn of our history! Thank you again, and good night!"

The audience cheered again as Azel stepped down from the stage. He sat down at Lucia's table, and breathed a sigh of exhaustion. Percy and Petru arrived at the table shortly after.

"Azel, spirits, that was amazing! There was so much to see, I hope I managed to record everything well enough!"

"Not everything, I hope." Azel said. "That little wardrobe malfunction almost made me die of embarrassment!"

"I think I got that part pretty clearly, sorry. I think Mead will end up enjoying it at least."

"Spirits, I hope you're joking. I don't even want to imagine that right now."

"Don't worry about it so much, Azel." Petru said. "It wouldn't be that much different if she was here right now, would it?"

"That would be… Damn it, why are you always so right?" Azel slumped in his seat. "Sorry, I'm just too tired and embarrassed to want to talk about this right now."

"It's no problem, Azel. You did great tonight. I can handle you lashing out a little. Get some rest for now, Percy and I can take care of cleaning up the bar."

"You sure? I could help if I really needed to."

"No, go ahead and take a break. You've earned it for pulling this much together in a week, wardrobe malfunction or no."

"Oh, before I forget," Lucia spoke up, holding the camera out to Petru. "Here's the camera. I think I recorded the show well enough."

"Ah, thanks, Luce. Mead'll be happy to see it. You might want to get headed home now. With Azel tired as he is and Mead not being around, there won't be much in terms of conversation, anyway."

"I guess you're right," Lucia replied. "Good night, everyone. The show was amazing, Azel. I can't wait to see the next one."

"The next one… That'll be in a week, just like this one was. Spirits, what have I gotten myself into…"

"Don't think about it too hard right now, just get some rest."

"Okay, I guess I'll see you later then."

"Right. Good night Azel."

Ending the conversation on that note, Lucia headed for the exit, and Petru and Percy began taking care of cleaning up the bar. Azel simply watched as everyone headed off. With little more energy to spend, he closed his eyes and took a well needed rest.