He had forgotten how comfortable mattresses were. Anything was better than sleeping on the ground, and even though he did have a hammock, it was nothing compared to what Trace had. For the first time in months, Barret actually woke up well rested, and he almost loathed getting up. He could not ignore his own conscious though, and he rolled out off of the bed, letting his feet fall to the floor with a thud. Sighing, he looked to the window. The sun had yet to even begin rising. He hadn't intended to sleep this late, but the bed was just too nice. Standing up, he reached for his gear, only to find that it had been washed and folded for him. Kathrin. You didn't have to do that. Barret smiled as he finished getting dressed, but then turned toward his bow. The old Templar longbow had been by his side almost every day since Zen gave it to him back in December. It had served him well, and the numerous scratches and chips in the wood showed just how much it had gone through. But it was not the only weapon he had here. The glaive. The weapon that had once been carried by the one who betrayed him, the one who broke his heart, and the one who died to save Barret's life. It was one of the few things he had that belonged to Eris. "You should carry that with you today."

Barret turned to see Haelith standing up too. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine. I know that everyone is going down to Edinmire to help organize the defense efforts, and to see all the people you brought with you."

He smiled, and turned back to the weapon. "So why should I carry this? Zen gave me my bow, and I am a hunter, I always will be."

"Take is as a reminder of what you've lost, but more importantly, what you've gained."

"What I've gained? What have I gained besides you and a few more scars?"

"You've gained experience. You've gained people. You've gained respect and authority. All those people down in Edinmire, they did not follow us, they followed you. They did not have to come here, but they came with you." Barret reached for the glaive, and though the polearm was still unfamiliar in his hands, he had grown more comfortable carrying it with him the past few weeks. "It also changes how people perceive you. An archer stands back, firing from behind others, relying on someone else to keep them safe. A glaive is the weapon of someone who stands on the front lines, someone who holds the enemy at bay."

"How is it that you are so wise?" Barret smiled as he put his arm around her.

"Far too much experience, and far more books than I'd like to admit." A dry chuckle escaped her, and she sighed.

"Shall we go see who else is awake?" Shockingly, they were not alone when they went down to the kitchen. Natani was finishing up a cup of coffee next to Keith, while Trace was by the stove cooking a few eggs. Sythe was dressed up in his old diplomat garb, and was scratching Nibbly on the head with one hand, while eating a piece of jerky with the other. "It's not even dawn yet. I expected Kathrin, maybe Natani, but this is strange."

"There's work to be done." Trace said, sliding the half burnt eggs onto a plate. "Our days of resting are no more. I don't know how we're all going to help, but Flora is determined to do something down in Edinmire. She won't fight in her condition, but she'll find something else to do."

"It's appreciated, but I won't leave until later." Barret retrieved his favorite coffee mug from the cupboard: plain, blue ceramic. "My tribe knows that I'm up here, and there hasn't been any emergencies yet, so I don't see a reason to rush."

"This… tribe." Sythe was slow and careful with his words. "You said that they are all former prisoners. Tell me about them."

Barret frowned. "That's a very general ask. What… what exactly do you want to know?"

"I'd like to know as much as possible. As a diplomat and ambassador, I have diplomatic immunity that is recognized by most places. If I know more about them, I could write letters to people in power to try and convince them to stop the fighting. There are plenty of guilds and factions that carry power. The Templars are only one of many, and all of them have influence over the leaders of their respective nations. If I were to tell them of the atrocities of the Templars, we may be able to undermine their supply chains, cause them to have lower recruitment rates, and potentially cause a full scale revolt right beneath their nose."

Keith set down his mug and smirked. "I underestimated you. Maybe I should learn from you about the full extent of my influence."

"All it takes is a bit of creativity. Now, as for exact details, I'd like to know about the sorts of things they were brought in for and what happened while they were prisoners."

"That's a very bold ask." Haelith scowled. "I treated some of their wounds, and heard some of their stories. There are atrocities that make me shudder, horrors I see and hear when I close my eyes. I will not repeat any of them though, as that is something they must consent to, but I warn you: you may not like what you hear, for it may haunt you the rest of your life."

"He watched my arm get ripped to shreds, the very flesh cleaved from my bone." Zen said as he walked into the kitchen. "The horrors you know may be bad, but we've seen more than our fair share of nightmares. Anyways, Barret, where's your bow?"

"I left it upstairs. It would be better for people to see me with this."

Keith stood up and walked over, eyeing the blade. "May I?" Barret shrugged, and Keith took the polearm, gripping it firmly. Slowly and carefully, he twisted and moved the blade up and down, checking the balance and weight. He twirled it upright and backwards, careful not to hit anyone, and with expert speed, he flipped around, suddenly shifting from a right-handed grip to a left. "This is a very fine blade. I've only seen a few that could rival this in terms of balance, weight and force. In the right hands, a deadly tool, useful for defending and keeping enemies at bay, while at the same time able to cover a wide area and push forward unchallenged." He let the shaft fall to the ground with a dull thud before handing it back to Barret. "Where did you find such a well crafted weapon?"

"It belonged to Eris. It's one of the few things I have of his. He died shortly after we broke out, and this was one of the things he had with him, along with a bag full of a few rations, some old journals, and a few daggers."

"Have you trained with that yet?"

"No. It never felt right to try and use it or even train with it. I only carried it because it was too large to just strap to my back, and because it gave everyone a visual marker to follow."

"If you would like, I could teach you how to use it."

"You know how to properly wield a weapon like this?"

Keith chuckled. "From the age of seven, almost every Basitin is trained how to use a sword and bow. I learned how to use spears and polearms from the academy I went to before I was exiled. You won't learn overnight, but I could help you become proficient with it in a few weeks. Heck, it might be even faster. Your brother would most likely be a similar size to you, which means it's probably pretty close to the perfect size for you."

Barret smiled. "It was custom made for him. I was taller than him, but you're right. It always has felt just the right size."

"I'd recommend taking the bow into combat, but you're right. It suits you." Natani smiled as she set down her coffee.

"Oh, look. A party." Kathrin walked into the kitchen, followed shortly by Eric and Raine. "I'll make more coffee."

"Already brewing." Sythe leaned back, letting Nibbly crawl onto his chest.

"What is that thing?" Haelith asked, looking carefully at the squirrel. "I've never seen anything like it before. A normal squirrel is too… squirrelly to be this comfortable around people."

"I'm not sure. Nibbs is usually pretty chill, but she vanishes whenever Reni shows up, but I have no idea why. She could be an infant dragon, they're known to take other forms when young to learn about the world around them and test their powers, but I've never seen her do anything…" He suddenly fell silent, frowning. "No. There was one time, but I'm not even sure what really happened. It was last fall. When Clovis and his goons attacked. I got knocked down, and when I woke up, Nibbs was standing over me, with the wolf who attacked me having fallen off the balcony. I don't know what really happened though. It could just be a coincidence."

"A trained professional assassin doesn't make mistakes like that." Zen frowned as he took a sip of his coffee. "There's only a few people in the Brotherhood that make mistakes like that, and Clovis would not have wanted any of them."

"Accidents like that aren't unheard of, just very rare." Natani continued "Unfortunate circumstances can happen."

"Regardless, have you ever considered that Nibbly might be dangerous to keep around?" Barret asked, taking a seat next to Haelith. "If it is a young dragon, who's to say that an older ancient won't come looking for them?"

"No dragons have come so far, so I'll take my chances." The kitchen fell into quiet conversation as the rest of the mansion slowly roused. The Datters came downstairs, drawn by the smell of coffee, while Richard and Flora were the last ones down. Food was enjoyed, coffee was brewed, and the world seemed to be alright. The pain of the past few months was suddenly not as bad when there were those nearby who could help ease the pain.

…

"There's so many of them." Flora clung to Trace's arm as they walked through the central square. The exhaustion and weariness was clear as day on their faces, and not a single one moved except when they needed to. They did not have a place to stay during the night, but a collection of blankets and bedrolls had been brought out for the Ishtaer to rest on while they recovered. Barret led them through the crowd slowly, stopping at every single person, making sure they were well cared for. Trace, Flora, Sythe, Natani, and Zen followed closely behind him, listening to every word that was spoken. Some looked at Trace in horror and disgusts, while others in wonder and curiosity. He couldn't blame them. "Where will they all go?"

"That's up to them. I made it clear that I would only lead them so far, and no more. If they choose to follow me now, they follow me into battle, and then into the unknown." Barret leaned heavily on the glaive, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Some of them are already gone."

"Some have elected to leave entirely." Eyes turned to a yellow and white scaled Ishtaer who hobbled over to Barret. "Some have already left with some of the other people of the city to avoid the fight. The rest of us have made our choice. You may not want to lead them, but it is your Fate to do so. We will follow you to whatever end."

"Whatever end? I don't think that you want to do that."

"You brought us out of a Templar prison. Every one of us thought we would die in there. Are you planning to go back?"

Barret gave a dry chuckle, and kept walking. "Worse. I plan to fight for Edinmire. I plan to make a difference in the world. If this tribe really stays together, then we will fight to the last. I will fight to the last."

"Most of us can't fight, but those who can will follow you into battle. I know I will."

Barret eyed her. "You? You can fight? I've never seen you touch anything sharper than that splinter you got in your foot."

"Well, truth be told, I'm not much of a fighter, but I can still do what I can. I used to use not just a rod and reel, but also fishing pikes and spears to pull in some larger fish. I'm out of practice, but I could throw one pretty hard."

"Then I'll be glad to have you at my back."

Anriea did not turn leave them, instead turning to Trace and Flora, who followed shortly behind them. "You must be Trace Legacy. I heard much about you from Barret."

"I am, and hopefully only the good things."

"A bit of this and a bit of that." she smirked "He told me how you gave up everything. I honestly didn't believe him for so long, but to see you here is… different."

"Did I know you before you were captured? I don't remember ever seeing someone like you before."

The Ishtaer smiled gently as she turned away. "I saw you once. It wasn't long after I was brought in. You didn't say a word to me, but I remember you. Most importantly, I remember your eyes. They were dark, hollow, and sad. I could hear it in the way you moved; you commanded power, and yet there was a hollow sorrow to you, a pain I could see. A pain I saw reflected in myself."

"Depending on when it was, that may have been just after I lost my first wife. I'm sorry if I ever hurt you, or anyone else here in any way. That… that was a different person. That was the old me. That me is dead. That me will never come back." Flora pulled him a bit closer, nuzzling his cheek and making him smile. "I have a new life now. I have new people and a new family."

"I am pleased to hear that." Her response was simple and short, but it at least brought him closure as she walked away to talk to someone else.

"Quite the collection of people here." Sythe twirled a pencil in his fingers as he scanned the crowd. "Who do you think would be willing to share their story?"

"I don't know. Many of them are wounded beneath the surface, they have scars that no one else can see. Just as around, but don't be offended if they turn you away or are hesitant to talk."

"We all know about that sort of thing." Natani's voice was heavy. "Everyone has scars."

"I had forgotten about your link. I admit, it's strange to see you without your bindings on. When did that change?"

"A few weeks after you left. But if you think you'll ever see me in a dress, think again." Barret chuckled and shook his head.

"You? Not a chance. You would probably stab someone first. Speaking of stabbing someone…" He leaned heavily on his polearm as Keith wove his way through the crowd, a glaive in his hands. "Today is full of surprises. A glaive does not suit you."

"What a shock, make fun of the short guy when he carries a weapon double his height." Keith rolled his eyes, but smirked regardless. "You ready?"

Barret glanced around. The crowd was stagnant and quiet, but they were at least being cared for. Though many of the civilians of the city were packing and leaving, their hospitality was more than he expected, and many people who walked past gave food and water to the exhausted Ishtaer. "Sure. There's nothing more I can do for them right now."