“My‑re! You’re late for your shift!” General Pol yelled from across the room of the Broken Sword tavern over the din of conversations and tinkering plates and glasses.
“I overslept, but at least I’m here,” My‑re responded and went into a stretch as Pol approached.
“Too much relaxation on your fishing trip last week?” Pol snorted. “Some Aruaki werecat fur ball has been asking for you. She claims she’s your friend and hasn’t ordered anything in the past hour.”
My‑re looked over and recognized Ssskah. “She has a name.” Leaving, she cursed at him in Rathiri.
“I understand the Khan’s tongue,” Pol responded in Rathiri.
“I’m taking a break,” My‑re said.
“You just got here.”
My‑re ignored him and joined Ssskah at her table.
“How ya holding up?” Ssskah asked. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine. I haven’t eaten much. My stomach is too upset. There’s a horrible, slimy taste in my mouth from the Elkarrish’s purge,” My‑re explained.
“By the nine hells, that thing was disgusting,” Ssskah remarked. “What do you remember?”
“Not much. It all feels like a dream. Everything is starting to fade and hard to recall,” My‑re said.
“Really? Since that is the case, a few people were asking, but I don’t want to impose.”
“What?”
“Considering everything you’ve gone through, I wasn’t sure how to ask?”
“What is it?”
“You had the Grey Wand for some time.”
“Yes.”
“Longer than anyone I can recall other than Lady Greywand.”
“What’s the question?” My‑re asked.
Ssskah leaned in and asked, “There’s a rumor there is a sentient being bound, trapped, or living within the Grey Wand. Did you see or hear anything while you held it?”
My‑re sighed, leaned back, and tapped her fingers on the table.
“Do you remember anything?”
“No, I didn’t see or hear any presence other than the Elkarrish. I think it’s just a powerful wand,” My‑re said.
“Ah, that’s an abysmal shame.”
“Why’s that?”
“Oh, nothing. It seems I just lost a sizable bet with Captain Phetmolge,” Ssskah sighed. “I’ll just say the jury is still out.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No worries. Why is General Pol watching us?” Ssskah asked, pointing with her chin.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s not happy unless people are ordering.”
“Ah, in that case, I’ll take a Dolyak milk and a bowl of whatever is cooking in the stew pot. It smells meaty and good,” Ssskah said.
As My‑re left and gave Ssskah’s order to General Pol, he said, “Get to work and no more visitors.”
*
A few hours later…
“As ordered, another round of Mushroom Meads,” My‑re said, delivering the drinks to the Shewish giant Gromp and his two sizable companions. “It’s good to see you in person once again.”
“Gromp, no see human female. Where you go?”
“I was on a fishing trip,” My‑re said.
“Gromp no like water. No like fishing.”
“Me either,” My‑re replied.
Retrieving their empty glasses, My‑re glanced at the patrons, who filled half the tavern. It would keep her busy but not swamped, so the rest of the evening should go by quickly.
The tavern's commotion went still.
A striking woman in an elegantly decorated flowing gown walked in. She was almost six feet tall, and from her raven black hair framing her wide cheekbones, My‑re recognized her immediately.
“Lady Sheila Greywand,” came murmurs from the patrons. Chairs scooted across the stone floor. They all stood as she passed.
From the back of the tavern, General Pol hurriedly moved across the room and escorted her to the cleanest and most visible table.
My‑re watched as Sheila spoke to Pol in a soft tone. He nodded several times and then said, “Right away.”
Approaching My‑re, Pol said, “Lady Greywand has asked to see the Heroine of the Mist.”
“Who?”
“You.”
“I didn’t think you wanted me to have any more visitors,” My‑re quipped.
“Not in this case. It’s a rare thing for Lady Greywand to visit the local bars. This is an exception, go.”
Wiping her hands on a rag, My‑re approached Sheila’s table. She heard Pol say excitedly under his breath, “This should be good for business.”
Approaching, Sheila motioned and said, “Please, be seated.”
My‑re looked to the dozens of eyes staring at her and sat. She felt heat race to her face at the uncomfortable attention.
“You’re my heroine, Lady Greywand!” A male patron shouted.
“Thank you.”
“She talked to me. She talked to me,” he responded with glee before sitting back down and speaking excitedly with his companions. “I want my daughter to grow up and be just like her.”
Sheila smiled at the comment and asked My‑re, “Ssskah indicated you have not been eating?” She then shifted uncomfortably in her seat. A frown of annoyance wrinkled her brow. She pulled the Grey Wand from her belt and placed it on the table.
“Yes, that Elkarrish left a horrible taste in my mouth,” My‑re replied. Her eyes went from the wand to Sheila.
“It will pass. After you have taken some time to rest and recovered your strength, I have a proposition I would like you to hear,” Sheila said.
“What’s that?”
“There have been reports a dragon is…unaccounted for. I would like you to be part of an expedition to unravel the mystery,” Sheila said.
“That would be wonderful. I’ve always wanted to go looking for a missing dragon,” My‑re joked. She then noticed Sheila's firm and unmoving expression. “Oh, you’re serious?”
“Yes, my network has informed me that-”
My‑re interrupted, “Lady Greywand, I’m flattered you would think I would be great on this ‘expedition,’ but my only desire is to train as a Lady Protector, make some extra coin at the Broken Sword, and eventually pay onto a caravan traveling to the Rirorni Empire to visit my adopted family. There are others far more qualified than I for this task.”
“Perhaps, but the way you outwitted the Elkarrish-”
“Complete luck factor,” My‑re interrupted again. “I didn’t know what I was doing the entire time and going with my gut.”
“Never allow that to come to light,” Sheila replied, quiet but stern.
“Why?”
“You are a heroine, My‑re.”
“No, I’m not. I barely made it out alive.”
Sheila sat back and breathed out heavily. Silence lingered for several heartbeats. “In my youth, a teacher asked us to name our heroes. The girls called out several mighty male champions of Alastari’s past. Then, the boys also yelled out their idols. All mighty brave men of lore, except one boy. He called out Araminth, a wonder woman in her own right. The boys snickered, a few laughed, and the instructor, a man, tried to steer him toward some of the other male heroes. I then raised my hand.”
“What did you ask?” My‑re inquired.
Sheila leaned in toward My‑re and said, “Why can’t men’s heroes be women?”
My‑re sat back and thought about the question. “His reply?”
“He seemed taken aback by my query. He thought about it for a few moments and then replied. Why not?”
My‑re looked at the Grey Wand on the table and then returned to Sheila.
“There is a grave shortage of female heroes in this world. I desire to change that,” Sheila explained. “You can not teach talent. Besides, the protection of the Grey Wand would accompany the party.”
“The Grey Wand? So, you really don’t wish me to go?” My‑re snorted and looked at General Pol. He grinned ear-to-ear, and his face beamed with giddy excitement. “I need to get back to work. I’d like to forget the Lake of Mists’ monster incident. So, is there anything I can bring you? I can probably get it on the house.”
“Yes, I desire you to go, but take some time. In the interim, your encounter with the Lake of Mists’ monster must be documented. But first, a fine ale,” Sheila said.
***
Later, after leaving the Broken Sword tavern...
“Lady Sheila Greywand, these interviews grow tiresome. What news of my daughter, Araminth?” a deep voice spoke as if from a great distance.
The insects and other noises of life ceased. Even the fresh smell of seaweed dissipated. Sheila looked down at the Grey Wand tucked through her belt. Touching it lightly, she stopped on the darkening streets of Willow Bay on the Isle of the Eye. Lantern lads, young boys, and girls, were starting their routine of igniting the oil-filled street lights around the various buildings.
“Preparations are still underway.”
“We also grow weary of these ‘preparations.’”
“An undertaking of this magnitude takes time,” Sheila replied.
“Time is something we have. You do not.”
“The current requirements would necessitate a lifetime.”
“Twenty years? We think not.” Silence came from the voice for several heartbeats. “Five years. Including these preparations.”
“Understood. I have not forgotten the pact.”
The sound of a great creature drew in breath. The voice boomed, “Of course, you have not forgotten the pact, Lady Greywand.”
Sheila noticed a previously unseen shade of a large creature surrounding her. It shifted slightly. Reality distorted for a mere moment. The shadows then shifted back to normalcy. Breathing heavily, she took a step, but silence continued to encompass the area. “Something else, Yrioth?”
The deep voice of Yrioth spoke. “That female outwitted an Elkarrish? We like her as a candidate.”
Sheila glanced at the Broken Sword tavern over her shoulder. When she turned back, the sounds of insects and other nightlife returned. She looked up at Alastari’s full moon and the multitude of stars without number in the heavens. Breathing in the smell of fresh seaweed, she said aloud, “I like her as a candidate, too.”