Carry on My Wayward Son

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Aiaru.

Something had drawn him here, and it was more than just a tenuous (at best) lead. The Winds. They drove him, pressed him and called him toward the planet. Of course, he had needed to have some solid reasoning behind his arrival to the planet as well, if only for his own pride. It had taken more than a bit of digging but he discovered that there were two factions on the planet that utilized the Winds. One was a potential breeding ground for the Firians line. It had all the markings of a faction that may have attracted those with feanturi loyalties without the attention that was so often focused around the word ‘jedi.’

What better place to cultivate a lineage you wanted to keep secret and safe, but still have exposure to others who could have a positive influence on the children of your line and assist in teaching them the ways to utilize their powers should they have any? It was as good a place to start as any since the Jedi Temple was a veritable fortress. A smaller faction may be more easily infiltrated, especially when their eyes seemed so focused on their rivals. There were risks of course, but he would face those when he came across them. For now, the blond Rilan was content with surveying the lands of this planet and its people.

Several weeks he had been on Aiaru now, learning swiftly how to blend into its culture and the mannerisms of its people, while he slowly gathered information about both factions. It wasn’t overly complex…something he’d done previously while with Mornar and the Sul’an, and something he was comfortable with, but always there was a nagging at his mind. Something in the Winds was still calling him, still attempting to catch him in its swirling flow. It called him to explore outside of the major cities, moving from town to town and leaving his ship in hiding for days at a time while he searched for something unknown to him.

It was one of these wanderings that took him out of a small town amidst the rolling hills near the Isis River and along a seldom used speeder path. The horse he’d rented had earned him a few questioning looks since these sort of rentals weren’t exactly as common as speeder rentals, but it was shrugged off and the money exchanged. The creature was certainly no rosh, but it was a sturdy enough beast that he felt comfortable in the saddle. With the sure-footed horse, he enjoyed the ride immensely as a bit of homesickness touched his heart. Anger was swift to follow, the injustice of his exile (since that’s what it was) gnawing at him as they followed the small road through rolling hills that reminded him of the lands just outside of his father’s estates.

Someone(s) would pay dearly for the crimes they’d committed toward him and his family…he would see to it.

Perched on his shoulder, the golden-brown little form of Hriff chittered and chirruped excitedly, a white noise that Rakesh ignored for the moment while he was busy brooding over the exceptional vista stretched out before them. It wasn’t until Hriff gave a loud ‘HRIFF!’ and skittered down inside the pouch he haunted on the man’s belt that he bothered to stop his brooding and notice the white building that was slowly appearing over the rise of one of the hills. Reining the horse in for a moment, he gazed at the octagonal shaped building and the gardens surrounding it.

That…that was where the pull on him was leading.

That building.

…but why?

He couldn’t answer that question on his own. He obviously had no known attachments to the building or the people that may (or may not) frequent it, but that was where he was being drawn to. With a sigh, he set the horse into a steady trot and wrapped the darkness of his presence around him, down, and within him. Could he still be felt in the Winds? Of course…he wasn’t attempting to hide himself, but he wasn’t going to let what he was easily be felt either.

A soft chirrup from his belt had him glancing down to spy the golden head of the little mirjhai looking up at him questioningly. Shaking his head slightly, the displaced man bothered to drop the blue crystal record he was compiling back below the green and gold coat and ‘cape’ he was wearing, those twin sabers well hidden amongst the folds of the material, like the thin leather armor he also wore. It was little more than some extra padding, but it was enough since it let him move and bend as he needed without hindering him and was concealed well by the clothing he wore.

As he neared, two forms appeared from the foliage. The first was obviously male, the auburn hair and blue/gold shirt catching his eye first before moving on to the more colorful (and obviously older) woman with him. A mother and son perhaps? It was difficult to tell from this distance still, but something he could tell from this distance was their race. Too often (constantly, in fact) the auras he saw were blurred…smudged or unclear…unrefined…but these two…these two were different. They were Rilan, their auras both as sharp and as clear as those from Rilia, refined over thousands of years and generations into the crisp colors and patterns he saw before him. It was almost a welcome sight.

Almost.

He had run the scenarios through his head previously…these two could either know about life on Rilia, and thus would likely recognize the branded tattoos around his eye, the crest on his belt, the colors of his clothing, perhaps even his features. On the other hand, they could very well know nothing at all. They could also hold the key to his return home, so it was a gamble he would have to take. As he neared, he would slow the horse to a walk…then a stop…several yards from them.

”Good afternoon, Sir, Madam…forgive my intrusion, I was simply passing through, but I would like to rest the horse for a bit, would you mind if I tied him to one of your trees?” He’d manage a soft chuckle at his next thought. ”He isn’t mine, and I’d prefer not to have him running off.”

[Rugs]

I need to get away. Just for a little while.

He looked down to the passing terrain below. The plains of Eostre stretched on endlessly and out of sight, even for him, high up in his speeder. Streams and ponds dotted the land below, as did stretches of farmland, or the occasional village. The Circle--the ring of mountains where the Tower was located--stood proud behind his speeder as he flew away. The tip of the Tower itself, gleaming softly in the spring's liquid gold morning light, was visible for a little while before he finally passed out of sight from it.

To put it plainly, Kvothe needed time away. Away from the Tower. Away from the battles. Away from worrying about the Unum. Away from Magnus and Bors and their recent disapproval.

Away from everything.

And if he could find a way to rip them from his mind, he could get away from all the damn flashbacks, too. What kind of fate had been so cruelly thrust upon him, that he was to be assaulted by memories that weren't his own? It was madness.

"And all for doing the right thing," he muttered under his breath. He sat back comfortably in his seat, his grip on the wheel light and easy as he guided the speeder through the air. But if someone had been there to sense him, to feel the strain in his presence in the Mythos, or see the subtle tension that held in his bare arms, they'd realize that something troubled Kvothe. Fortunately, there was no one else there. No one to feel that tension but Fas, his familiar.

There'd been a battle recently. A real battle, not one of the little skirmishes that had defined the conflict with the Unum up until this point. Far to the north, in the heart of the Itzli mountains, they'd fought to destroy a very well-hidden base, and to free a captured comrade. They'd won, of course, and they'd gotten Iri safely back to the Tower in the process. But even so, memories lingered. Memories of seeing all the death. Memories of the way he'd lost control when they found Irisorrie.

The memory of how he'd killed two men in a way that no one deserved.

No, he thought, shaking his head and glancing to the ground below with gold-tinted eyes, they deserved every bit of what they got. They were traitors. Just for a moment, his grip tightened on the wheel. Filth.

But once everything was settled down again, Kvothe found himself wanting to just take a break to get away and re-center himself. He would fight this fight without hesitation, but between that, the way everyone suddenly seemed to think what he was doing was wrong, and his brother's machinations, he needed to clear his head.

Fortunately, he had a chance to do just that.

Even though winter still held on tight in the Itzli mountains, spring was coming to the plains. And every spring, as long as he could remember, he'd gone out to visit Alethea and help her with her gardens. She was an old friend of the family. She was, in fact, the priestess that had come from Rilia with his parents to escape the oppressing thumb of the Moreqaui warlords that ruled the arid world.

She was the only member of that group that had still lived on.

Kvothe sighed. Don't go all melancholy now, Kvothe. Still got a long ride ahead of you. Even in a speeder, it would take a while to get to Alethea's place. Eostre was a massive continent, after all.

"Guess we should settle in for the ride, huh Fas?" A smile tugged on his lips as he looked over to his feline companion. And so he pushed his troubled thoughts away for now and settled in for the ride.

------------------------------

Kvothe threw his arms out to either side of him and stretched with a loud yawn. Behind him, Fas hopped down out of the speeder and stretched out himself, kneading the soft ground with his claws. Kvothe closed speeder's canopy and started toward the octagonal building that stood before him.

The sun was higher now, the day warmer. The sky was free of clouds and the rolling land around Alethea's home was as beautiful as it always was. There was a patch of bare ground a few meters away from the house. That was where he'd likely be working today, tilling the earth to prepare it for planting. It was where Alethea grew her own crops; even though there was a village a short speeder ride away, the old priestess preferred to grow her own food. It was good, physical work, but that was what Kvothe wanted. Anything to keep his mind busy would be welcome for now. It used to be both of us, he thought sadly. Vor and I. Before everything fell apart. He sighed and shook his head. No use dwelling on what was. They hadn't had the best relationship, even before the defection.

As he approached the door, he looked over to one of the walls on the west side of the building. Vines were already starting to crawl up a latticed fence Alethea had set up near the wall. Never one to waste time getting her plants up, that woman.

She must have felt his presence when he arrived, because before he even made it to the door, it opened, and there stood Alethea.

She was an old woman, nearly three times Kvothe's age. The age showed, but she didn't look as long as one might think; their people lived for a long time, ands he had several decades left in her yet. Her hair, kept in a bun with a few loose bangs hanging free, was mostly grey with streaks of snowy white running through it. At just a few scant inches over five feet tall, she was short, though she had a bigness of heart and kindness of spirit that made her stand tall in Kvothe's eyes.

"I thought I felt you coming, Kvothe. And right on time," she said, smiling warmly at him. She spoke in Rilan, even though she was perfectly fluent in Basic, if hevily accented. She'd always preferred her old tongue. "Well, come on child, don't just stand there, come on over."

Kvothe felt some of his troubles seem to wash away at the sound of her voice. "Aye, Alethea," said he, answering in Rilan, a tongue he spoke as smoothly as he did Basic, "I told you I wouldn't be late." He started toward her, even though she'd already taken to walking out to meet him. Fas scampered up to her, but she shooed the flickercat away. Kvothe first. Then Fas. That was the way it always went, even if Fas always tried to change it.

"How have you been, Alethea?" Kvothe asked once they stood a few paces apart.

"Well, child, now that the winter's finally blown over, I've been just fine." Her eyes roved over him as she spoke, inspecting. "You still look to be strong, healh-" Suddenly, her gaze settled on something. "What's this?" she said, reaching forward to trace the edge of a scar on one of Kvothe's muscular shoulders. It was the newest scar he'd received: a gift from Vorian that stretched across his chest and out from under the edge of his sleeveless shirt onto the front of his left shoulder. "This wasn't there before."

"It's nothing to worry about, Alethea," Kvothe muttered, glancing to the ground.

She didn't buy it. Instead, she reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled it (and Kvothe's neck, which got a little yelp of surprise) down a bit so she could see the scar and how far it went. She tsked several times at seeing the extent of it and let him go. Those naturally blue eyes of hers, so dark and deep, turned up to look at his tattooed face, and likely the scar that crossed it. "What kind of trouble have you been getting into, child?"

"Nothing out of the usual." The truth of the statement nearly hurt, but he just focused on straightening his shirt back out and hoped she'd leave the subject alone. She just stood there, staring up at him. Finally, he sighed. "It was my brother."

Alethea sighed heavily and shook her head. "I should have known. Well, what's done is done, isn't it? Here, come along," she turned back to her house, "let's talk before you get to work. It's been so long since I've seen you.."

Her voice trailed off and she turned back. Kvothe was already looking off in the same direction, to where a figure riding a horse approached. "Were you expecting company, Alethea?"

"No," the old woman answered, "I was not. Certainly not Rilan company. Let us see what's brought this one to us."

The stranger, whoever they were, was indeed Rilan. Kvothe could tell from the sharpness of the aura, though the colors held his eye. Red and gold, and.... black? Green? I can't tell. "Yeah, I guess we'll have to do that. What are the odds of another one of us being here, though?"

Alethea shrugged slightly. "Who knows, child? Perhaps the Winds have brought them to us for a reason. Only time will tell."

They stood and watched quietly as the man approached. Fas started to venture forward as the stranger got nearer, curiosity drifting back to Kvothe through the link, but Kvothe called him back with a few short clacks of his tongue.

Finally, the figure drew up to them, stopping a few meters away. He was a man with long platinum blonde hair and a tattooed face. He clothing was green and gold.

”Good afternoon, Sir, Madam…forgive my intrusion, I was simply passing through, but I would like to rest the horse for a bit, would you mind if I tied him to one of your trees? He isn’t mine, and I’d prefer not to have him running off.”

Alethea chuckled softly. "You may." She spoke in Basic now, though her accent was heavy. She turned to Kvothe and spoke more softly, giving him a little nod. "Help him with his mount would you, Kvothe? Never bad to be polite." Then she turned back to the stranger. Her gaze lingered for a moment, seemign to study something about him, but Kvothe couldn't tell what. "Once your horse is secure, come inside, both of you." A little smile touched her face as she turned and started back for the door. "Much better to discuss what brings you here inside, and I have drinks and food for you, if you want them."

Kvothe watched Alethea for a moment and then looked back to the stranger. Shrugging mentally, he walked over to him and gave a nod of his head. "I am Kvothe," he said simply, looking up with eyes rimmed in curiosity's icy blue. "And this is," he motioned down to his feline companion that stood behind him, tails bobbing gently, "is Fas.

"I uh.... guess we're supposed to help you find a tree or something."

{Text in this color indicates speaking in Rilan}

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

The accent from the woman struck him as hard as any from home, and for a half a moment a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth before vanishing again as he nodded. One foot slid from a stirrup as he swung the leg over and back to the ground with obvious practice and ease before detaching himself the rest of the way and patting the neck of the creature lightly several times.

<<Thank you, Hiril…you are very kind for your offer.>> He returned, the language flowing from him as easily as it did them, the light brogue of his land coming out in the words as he eyed the curious feline, then looked back to the woman. There was danger here for him, he could tell…perhaps not physical danger if he played his cards right, but the danger of someone knowing…recognizing. For a moment he pondered why the Winds would lead him here, into a danger that may sabotage his goals so early on in his hunt. As the older woman vanished back inside, Rakesh was sure to turn his attention back to the younger man…younger than himself, most likely, though not by much. Stormy grey eyes looked at him, this Kvothe, something nagging at his mind. There was something familiar about the auburn, a look about him, his features, that had the Morequai pausing. It was there, but he couldn’t quite reach it…not yet. Finally he turned his eyes to the strange feline, watching it and its movements, taking time to study them each in turn. There was something odd about the pair of them…but then again…

“Hriff?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head at the timing of the mirjhai who refused to show himself, his thoughts turning back to the little girl who had given him the creature.

That sobered him right up.

<<Anorum sel, Kvothe…Fas…I am Rakesh, and (as you heard) my companion is Hriff.>>

He didn’t bother replying to the statement about the tree, since he was already heading toward one with a low hanging branch. As he wrapped the reigns around it lightly before swiftly uncinching and unsaddling the beast, setting the items in the grass off to the side to air a bit. Saddles were all the same, really, and his nimble hands were adept at taking them off and putting them on swiftly after so many long years of using them. <<You’ll have to excuse him, he’s…playing shy…right now. I’m sure he’ll make an appearance sooner or later. He always does.>>

Stepping back, he allowed the gold-auraed man to lead the way toward the house with a subtle gesture before following after him with silent footfalls. The walk was short enough that he didn’t bother to speak, instead taking in the garden that was already starting to grow around the white home. It reminded him of some of the gardens he’d seen around Ordril, or north in Celeban where the weather was kinder to growing plants. ’This is good land if it can grow plants like these…or she is very skilled,’ he mused, ’perhaps both.’

As Kvothe led the way into the house, the scent of green and herbs mingled with the smell of food and spices. The scent was familiar…painfully so…and those eyes darkened their shade of grey slightly and threaded through with veins of red before he pressed the anger and frustration down again. All in time, Rakesh…all in time. He forcibly reminded himself as he ducked through the door after Kvothe and his…cat…before standing off to the side and waiting patiently. <<Thank you again, Hiril, for your hospitality. It’s rare to find.>> It was true enough, but even if it hadn’t been true it begged to be said, his pedigree demanded it. Just because his siblings were worthless lying sacks of offal, didn’t mean he couldn’t be the gentleman his lineage required him to be. <<I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself, I am Rakesh.>>

[Rugs]

Kvothe watched the man as he dismounted his horse, studying him idly. He was tall. Taller than Kvothe by good four or so inches. And he spoke in Rilan smoothly, as smoothly as either of them had, and as fluidly as he'd just been speaking in Basic. For a few moments Kvothe debated what tongue he'd use, but if this man was going to speak their native language, then so would Alethea, no doubt. That settled it for him.

"Anorum sel," he returned politely, giving the bow with a hand over his heart, as he'd been taught by his parents. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Rakesh." A little grin grew on his face and he chuckled at the sight of Rakesh's little lizard companion. "And you as well, Hriff."

He fell in behind the man as he walked over to a tree and watched as he tied the reins to a low branch. Honestly, it looked like Rakesh knew what he was doing with handling his ride and equipment, so Kvothe merely waited for him to finish. Something about the man interested him, but he didn't know what, or why. He'd never seen Rakesh before, had no reason take any extra interest in him. Maybe it was those interesting colors that filled his aura. Or maybe it was merely seeing another Rilan, when he hadn't been expecting to.

Once the man was done, Kvothe lead him into Alethea's house. The inside was spacious and comfortable. It smelled herby, as it always did, especially near one of the doorways to the far side of the main room. It lead to a drying room, where Alethea dried her herbs out in preparation to makes spices.

"There you two are," Alethea said, coming out of another room with large tray in hand. Three dark green ceramic cups sat on it, along with a kettle. Tea, if Kvothe guessed right. She grew her own and spiced it. Uriel, his father, had always said it reminded him of a kind of tea back on Rilia. Kvothe no real way to know, but he loved it. The tray also held a few small bread wraps, with dried meat and crushed spices within. Light food, little more than a snack, but he didn't mind; he didn't need to be eating a lot if he was about to go do heavy work anyway.

Alethea walked over to a table in the middle of the living area, motioning for them to follow. "Think nothing of it, Rakesh." She'd reverted back to Rilan, now the she'd heard him speak it. "All these years have taught me that a little kindness can go a long way, sometimes." She set the tray down on the table and walked over to a thickly-cushioned seat and settled down into it. Fas, in the mean time, had settled onto one of the couches on either side of the table, and she shooed him off. "Down, you! Down!"

Kvothe laughed softly as lowered himself onto one of the couches and scratched at Fas behind the ears. "This isn't our suite Fas, remember. You don't get to stay on the furniture here."

Alethea was going about pouring tea for each of them while muttering something about 'poorly trained pets.' "How have you been, child, I never got to ask you."

"Busy," Kvothe answered simply. He picked up a cup for himself and poured a bit of honey into it. As he stirred, he spoke a bit more. "Very busy. You know how it can be at the Tower sometimes." Though he smiled at her and his tone was conversational, it also indicated that was as much as he wanted to say about that particular topic. He'd come to escape from thinking about that.

Alethea looked at him quietly for a long moment and finally nodded, turning her attention to Rakesh. Kvothe noticed that her gaze seemed to drift over him, as if she were studying him. Looking for something, maybe but what? She didn't give any sign.

"And what of our guest?" she asked finally, smiling at Rakesh. "What could the Winds have in store, I wonder, to bring another of our own to us on this day?"

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Grey eyes flickered around the room, noting the different doorways, the placement of the furniture, the lights, where the woman came from and the strength of the scent of herbs…or rather, where it was strongest. His mind worked swiftly to process the information and formulate it into various plans and optimal placements for himself. From a side room he caught sight of the white, blue and green aura of the woman appearing, her words making him bite back a huff.

“There you two are...”

Moving forward, he was about to offer his assistance before she motioned for them to follow her to the sitting area. Silently he obliged even as she spoke to him. He didn’t see the need to respond, her words more of a dismissal of his thanks than something he needed to speak on. He’d wait for her and Kvothe to sit before he settled himself in a solitary chair, with the door and several windows in easy sight without going so far as to be out of proper speaking range of the other two. As Kvothe ‘scolded’ his companion, Rakesh turned to the woman…he still didn’t know her name…and broke himself free of the old habits that threatened to take hold of him again.

<<My apologies, Hiril…I would have carried that for you, had I thought to speak sooner,>> he said quietly, taking one of the cups from her with another word of thanks. The scent was familiar…but something seemed off…the smell of the spices was so close to one of the teas at home it was uncanny, but one of them was missing…a berry was missing. Taking a sip he found it wasn’t changed badly enough to be bothered over, so he remained silent as they spoke, settling back into the chair slightly without compromising himself.

Though his eyes took in the décor of the room more completely, he listened (and ‘listened’) to the short conversation. The boy was hiding something, he could feel Kvothe clamp shut within, like a shellfish protecting its soft insides. The Tower…so this Kvothe was a member of the Mythics. Interesting. There had been a lot of talk about the recent struggles between Unum and Mythic factions…it had all been intriguing in its own right, but this was a far more interesting turn of events. Perhaps this Kvothe would know of the Firians line, if there were any of them around these parts. I will have to step twice as carefully now…especially around the woman… His eyes caught Alethea’s gaze as she looked him over, watching her steadily as she searched him. …She knows enough to be a danger to my plans, I’m sure of it. I can feel it.

<<And what of our guest? What could the Winds have in store, I wonder, to bring another of our own to us on this day?>>

He chuckled slightly, eyes narrowing just a bit with the amusement he found in that question.

<<I have been wondering the same thing.>> Winds knew it was the truth. Why…why would they put him in a position that would endanger his mission?! Surely they wouldn’t sabotage his attempts to regain the only one left in his life worth protecting? <<I was pulled here. More than that and your guess is as good as mine, Hiril…>> He watched her silently for a moment, eying her clothing, her hair, her aura…taking in her very presence. <<It may even be better………Who can say?>>

Shrugging slightly, he took another drink of his tea before looking at the cup thoughtfully. <<You created this yourself, Hiril? It is remarkably similar to one that I’ve had before, but…>> he paused when he heard a small flap of wings and a chirrup. Looking down swiftly he caught sight of Hriff’s golden form, speckled with all hues of greens as he moved for the plate.

”Hriff!!”

Twisting his head around and back to look at Rakesh upside down, those colors shifted immediately to blend with the table and cloth he was standing on as he attempted to blend in. His attempt was met with a scowl that made his wolfish features narrow and darken. The stone still form of the mirjhai twitched slightly and hunkered down, curling around and away from the plate to slink back to the edge of the table, his body peppered with apologetic blues and grey, as well as a few yellows. He was trying so hard to look cute that, if he hadn’t been used to the attempt, he may have managed to forgive the transgression more easily…and while his face softened just slightly, those eyes remained narrow as he telepathically chided his companion.

“Churrrriff? Irrach…irrach…rrittirr hurriff?”

<<No. You’ve been enough of a troublemaker and you know better.>>

“Rrrr? Lurrr, lurrrchitta-rittarif-hriff…”

He was not amused…not even when his companion’s chittering turned solemn, the little draconic form slinking off the table and onto his leg, looking up at him pitifully.

<<Don’t test me, Hriff, you’ve cause me enough troubles today.>> Picking the little mirjhai up, he’d set his mug down on the table and put the little creature back into his designated pouch, closing the top of it to make his point clear to the frustrating little lizard. <<Please forgive him…I don’t know if you know about mirjhai, but they’re notorious little trouble makers.>>

[Rugs]

Alethea chuckled softly at Rakesh's answer. Her deep blue eyes threaded lightly through with silver as she looked at the tall stranger over the top of her cup, sipping from it lightly. "Who can say indeed, hm?" She set the cup down on the wide arm of her chair, still chuckling softly to herself as if she was in on some little joke that the two men didn't have a clue about.

I know that look, Kvothe mused as he looked at the old priestess from the corner of an eye. She's onto something. The blue that fogged his eyes crew brighter, icier as he wondered what might be going through Alethea's head. He glanced back over to Rakesh, wondering if it had to do something with this man that had come to them from nowhere. I don't know what else it could be. But what is there that she could be thinking about him? We don't even know him?

Kvothe shifted on the couch, moving some of the cushions aside to make himself more comfortable. Light glinted dully off of something on Rakesh's person. He tilted his head slighlty, looking at the thing. It was a belt buckle, with some kind of symbol or crest or something worked into it; none that he could recognize, though. He glanced back to Alethea. She was drinking from her tea again. If she'd noticed the belt buckle, she showed no sign of it.

"Oh, it took some experimenting," she went on to Rakesh when he inquired about the tea, "but with some work and some persistence, you can get just about anything done." She looked to Kvothe and gave him a knowing little grin. "Isn't that right, child?"

Kvothe huffed, then couldn't help but laugh softly. "I have no idea what you-"

”Hriff!!”

Alethea and Kvothe looked to the table as one to see Rakesh's little lizard companion scampering toward the plate with the dried meat wraps on it.

With a lighthearted grin, Kvothe reached forward to scoot the plate to the side, but it turned out to not be necessary. He chuckled to himself as he watched Hriff get reprimanded and glanced over to see Fas eyeing the little creature curiously. Kvothe knew what the way his tails were swaying meant, and the way those bioluminescent flickers beneath the dangerous barbs flowed from one color to another...

"Y'know Fas," he said, leaning over to the flickercat with an elbow propped up onto the edge of the couch, "I'd think after that time Magnus got pissed at you for chewing one of his books, you'd have learned about trying stupid things." Fas' tails went stiff for a moment before he looked up at Kvothe with an 'I wasn't going to do anything' look on his face. Similar feelings eased back to the Sword's mind through their bond. He only chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sure you weren't." Fas got a light scratch behind the ears and Kvothe sat upright again.

"Please forgive him…I don’t know if you know about mirjhai, but they’re notorious little trouble makers."

"Bah, notorious little thieves," Alethea added. "But at least they don't leave fur everywhere." The glance she shot Fas made it clear just who that was about. Kvothe laughed. He knew Alethea liked Fas, and Fas knew she liked him, but she had this facade she liked to keep up about him. It was humorous, to say the least.

"Wait," Kvothe said, looking back to Rakesh, "that was a mirjhai?" He leaned forward just a little bit, his interest suddenly caught. "I've heard stories of them from my father, but I've never truly seen one. So, wait... does that mean you're actually from Ril-"

A flapping noise cut him off, as did a spur of surprise coming from Fas' end of the bond. He looked up to see bird settling down on the railing of a balcony on the floor above them. It was the size of a songbird, and the last time Kvothe saw it, it looked like a normal songbird. Now the entire thing glowed with a brilliant golden light. It was a star swallow--a common enough bird on Aiaru, though seeing them glowing was a more rare sight.

The bird flapped its wings twice then took to the air again and flew down them, alighting on the arm of Alethea's chair opposite her tea. She didn't seem too concerned about it; she rather acted like it was an ordinary occurrence.

"That bird's still here?" Kvothe's brow wrinkled slightly. "Two years later?" He still remembered the day they found the star swallow, laying out behind Alethea's house with a broken wing. She was a healer, a gifted one, and it had been a simple thing for her to fix it right back up. The bird had been hanging around ever since, and she took care of it.

Alethea just smiled. "I told you, child, a little act of kindness can go a long way." Now she looked back to Rakesh calmly, as if there wasn't a glowing bird sitting next to her. "But don't let us interrupt you. I believe Kvothe was inquiring on if you come from Rilia?" She gave a soft little chuckle and drank from her tea for a moment.

"It has been a very long time since I've seen another from Rilia, you know."

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

<<Who can say indeed, hm?>>

A subtle smirk formed on his features as the memory of his old mentor came to the forefront of his mind. The woman was canny, to be sure, and the more he spoke to her the more uncomfortable he became with his position. Not that he would allow it to ever seep out from his hold enough to be felt or seen. He could, however, feel the curiosity lapping at his senses from the younger man. It was tentatively dismissed, even after he caught the slight tilt of his head. Instead he nodded to the woman’s comment on her tea and persistence, wondering if she knew just how correct she was on that topic.

His attention, however, had been draw to his insufferable little companion at just that moment.

Dratted dragon is going to get himself eaten if he isn’t careful, he mused to himself as Hriff scampered back into his pouch. Despite his frustration at the mirjhai, Rakesh had swiftly switched from that frustration to a defensive, nearly aggressive, sort of tension as he felt the attention of that feline hone in on Hriff. He certainly wasn’t about to allow his companion to become a play toy…he meant too much to the man to allow that, no matter how he may have appeared to feel about the little beast. Kvothe seemed to have it in hand, however, and with Hriff safely stowed in his belt once again that tension bled away slowly.

<<Bah, notorious little thieves.>>

He nodded and smirked a bit to her comment. <<Aye…they are that as well.>> Kvothe’s question, and following statement, earned him a full look and a moment of quiet studying. One brow lifted slightly as the younger man started to ask if he was from Rilia itself, his mind working swiftly to decide on his reply before a soft fluttering of wings caught not only Kvothe and Fas’ attention, but his as well, glancing up to see a lightly glowing bird sitting on an upper railing before it fluttered down to them and perched itself on the unoccupied arm of the woman’s chair. The dual amount of light from the bird made it peculiar to look at as far as Rakesh was concerned, his eyes and mind attempting to decipher which was the glow and which was the aura. After a moment he managed to pry his eyes away from the curious little bird, hints of dull tan fading from his eyes.

Instead he focused his attention on the conversation between Kvothe and the woman. Perhaps luck was going to favor him for a time after all, and he wasn’t going to be questioned about…<<But don’t let us interrupt you. I believe Kvothe was inquiring on if you come from Rilia?>> No…of course he’d have no such luck. <<It has been a very long time since I’ve seen another from Rilia, you know.>> He didn’t doubt it, but at least his suspicions were confirmed about the two of them. A boy born off world and the woman having escaped…he made a mental note and took a drink from his tea.

<<Yes, I am from Rilia originally, and yes Hriff is a mirjhai.>> For a moment his attention turned back to the little dragon in his belt pouch, the snout poking out and giving an apologetic sounding little ‘chirrah’ that made his eyes smile, even if the expression didn’t appear on his face. <<For all of his annoying features, he’s quite useful.>>

[Rugs]

Wow, Kvothe thought as he looked at the man sitting across from him. Not only another Rilan, but one that's actually from Rilia. What were the odds of that, of this stranger from the homeworld happening upon them both. It was the first he'd ever seen another Rilan beyond his family or Alethea--they were a rare people beyond Rilia, or so his father said--yet here was one, sitting across from him.

So many question suddenly streamed into his head. The icy blue overtook the natural hazel of his eyes near completely, pushing it back to a thin ring around his pupils. Even with what his mother and father had told them of the world, there were so many things he still didn't know, so many things to ask. And they'd fled just over fifty years ago; surely interesting things had happened in the decades since.

"Wow," he repeated aloud softly, "I almost never thought I'd see another one of us outside the people I've grown up knowing. Especially never thought I'd see one from Rilia, but now... And a mirjhai! I've always wanted to see one of them." He chuckled. "Father told me about one he came across once. Said tha-"

Alethea laughed softly, sipped lightly from her tea. "Do try not to be too childlike in your enthusiasm, Kvothe. Wouldn't want to scare the man away, now would we?" There was a gentleness in her voice, even thought it was teasing. She knew what must have been going through Kvothe's head. She was curious of the man herself, if for different reasons than Kvothe.

"Oh, come on Alethea, the odds of this happening are... well, you know how rare we are here." He looked to her, then back to Rakesh. "I mean, there are so many things about Rilia I don't know, so many..." He shook his head slightly and chuckled under his breath.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking to Rakesh. "It's just, I never thought..." He shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts.

Alethea chuckled again and looked to Rakesh. "Forgive the boy, Rakesh. He can be excitable at times."

Kvothe looked at the old priestess flatly, ignoring the thin threads of silver that wove through her blue eyes. She thought it was funny. "Well what would you expect, Alethea? I've never even seen Rilia, though I hope to one day. Father said it was very different than Aiaru."

"Your father was a wise man," Alethea answered coyly. She said no more though, simply sipping from her tea and watching the two men. Kvothe wondered for a moment what was going through that head of hers for a moment. "Though do remember," she added after a moment with a sly little smile, "that you're here to help me with my gardens, not to drive our visitor crazy with questions."

Kvothe nearly made a quip in return but shrugged it off. "Rakesh, if you don't mind me asking..." He paused for a moment, idly stirring his tea. "What's it like? Rilia, I mean. My father told me stories of the Feanturi, of the Moreqaui and the fighting between them. Do they still fight? Are the Norhea Plains really as beautiful as the stories say? Doe-"

"Child, child," Alethea interrupted, laughing again, "give our guest time to answer before you run off with more questions." Then she simply looked to Rakesh and gave a little nod.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

It wasn’t difficult to feel the younger man’s curiosity build like a fire that had just had fuel poured on it, the ice blue of his eyes giving the Morequai a steady gauge to go off of now. At least, it was a gauge for this particular emotion. Sipping at his tea, Rakesh watched with idle amusement as the two conversed, washed out and dull hints of green tinting the area just around his irises. The boy acted as if he were some sort of mythical creature that he never thought had really existed, only to be faced with it in reality. Now over Hriff he may have expected this reaction, but over himself? For a moment he wasn’t sure if he should feel amused or annoyed. No doubt this curiosity was going to be no end of trouble for him in the long run.

One thing about Rakesh, he was most certainly a man of few words in most situations. A large portion of that was likely his upbringing…he was to be seen and not heard unless spoken to directly…but another large portion of that was likely the fact that one could observe and learn considerably more while quiet than while speaking. Besides, he felt no need to insert himself into the conversation. The pup (as he was beginning to see the younger man as more and more) was a seemingly endless stream of excitement and questioning. While not a bad thing, necessarily, it was typically something reserved for children and teens…certainly people younger than he guessed Kvothe was. The woman, Alethea apparently, seemed to have things in hand. It was odd, though, that the pup would call her by name…Not related by blood after all, hmm?

Soon enough the apologies came, first from the pup, then from the woman for the pup. Still not a word was said, only a single nod given toward Alethea as a sign that he heard and accepted the statement. As Kvothe quipped back, the blond man took one of the wraps and munched on it silently, occasionally pulling off bits of the meat and offering them to the little snout that still protruded from his belt pouch. Well, there’s no doubt now that the boy isn’t from Rilia, anyway…but his father and this Alethea woman (at least) were. It sounds as if the father has gone to the Winds as well…I wonder why that might be. With the last bit of the wrap he coaxed Hriff out again as the room fell silent for several moments. He hardly seemed perturbed by it, allowing the little drake to hold the majority of his attention while he snapped at the small portion he was being given.

“Though do remember that you’re here to help me with my gardens, not to drive our visitor crazy with questions.”

A ghost of a smirk formed on his face at that comment, a silent huff of a chuckle the only motion he made before looking back up at the two of them through cloud-grey eyes. Hriff made his way lightly up the length of Rakesh’s arm about as swiftly as a gecko before perching on his shoulder and chirruping contentedly and blinking around at the people (Fas and the bird) his master was sitting with. Kesh could feel that the bird (at least) made his little companion uneasy, even before he caught the leathery rustle of his wings and the little puff of warning smoke that accompanied the motley red and yellow shading of his body. Almost imperceptibly Rakesh shook his head at the warning display. Really…as if he would allow any harm to befall his little mirjhai companion.

“Rakesh, if you don’t mind me asking…”

A single brow lifted, his amusement at the fact that he was being asked permission now tugging one corner of his mouth up just slightly for half a moment.

“What’s it like? Rilia, I mean.”

Ah, and there it was…the real set of questions he’d felt building up. As he listened Rakesh pondered what to say and where to begin. Even for several long moments after Alethea had said her piece to the pup he remained quiet, images of his homeland burned into his vision though his eyes were still open. ”Noreha…those plains are vast, rolling and scenic, yes. Storms on them can be as beautiful as they can be fierce, and there is nothing like riding a rosh among the wild herds on those rolling grasslands. It feels like freedom made tangible. Yes, the Morequai and Feanturi still fight…though guerrilla warfare is the standard these days...more or less.” Of course, the inked brands on his forearm, covered by cloth and gauntlet, were proof enough that the battles still went on, but he wasn’t about to show them. In fact, his mind didn’t even turn to the markings as he attempted to think of anything else the pup might find useful. There was more than enough to be sure, but it wasn’t something he wished to spend so much time on, and quite a bit of it was colored by his life and his…history. Two very different things in his mind, and neither one he intended to share much of.

”You ask after Noreha in particular…your family is from there?”

Well…when in doubt, turn the conversation around.

[Rugs]

Kvothe listened attentively as the traveler spoke, telling him of the plains. Vast, rolling, scenic, he said, with storms that were at once beautiful and terrifying. In his mind's eye Kvothe could see it. He could see the tall grasses bending gently at the wind's touch. He could see the skies darkening and then lighting once more in an awesome display of power as lightning seared the heavens.

In truth, though, he could not. The images in his imagination were of some foreign place, but he knew they were not of his people's homeworld. They were touched by things he'd seen in life already: the vastness of the central plains of Eostre, the incredible storms that rolled across it every spring... But one day. He leaned forward to take his tea from the table, along with one of the wraps Alethea prepared for them. One day I'll see it all for myself.

”You ask after Noreha in particular…your family is from there?”

Kvothe nodded with an 'mhhm!' as he chewed on the lightly spiced meat. It was good; tasted like the meat from the herd animals that villages in this region of the plains were known for raising.

"We, were. Er... they were, rather. My brother and I were born here." For once, he passed over mention of Vorian without any of the fires of anger within starting to stir. And why should he? There was no reason this time.

"They lived in the city of Noreha itself, out on the plains. We were a merchant family. Made and traded leathers, did some light tinkering with making armor out of them, from what my father's told me." As Kvothe spoke, Alethea leaned from her chair to pour herself another cup of tea. When she had, she set the kettle back on the tray it'd come out on and leaned back into her deep, cushioned seat to watch him with those sharp blue eyes of hers. She didn't say anything, didn't make any motions with her head or hands. Just watched and listened quietly. Even so, something was behind those eyes. It was muted and hard to see, but the old priestess was thinking something.

"But they left a long time ago." He sighed softly and looked to Alethea. "About fifty years ago, I think. That's right, isn't it, Alethea?"

The old priestess' gaze flicked over to Rakesh for half a heartbeat before she nodded. "Aye, child, that's right." It was closer to fifty-one, these days, but those were semantics.

Kvothe nodded at her confirmation and took a moment to sip from his tea. "Yeah, fifty years back. To get away from the..." He paused for a second. 'Morequai,' he'd been going to say, but he remembered a warning his father had told him when he was young; a warning about being careful around those who came from the homeworld. And truth be told, he still knew little of this man, though surely he was no Morequai. Morequai were evil. Brutish. Rakesh did not seem to be those, at least not at first blush. He played the pause off by taking another drink from his cup and cleared his throat. "Sorry... To get away from the fighting between the Morequai and the Feanturi.

"So they came here." He smiled faintly and shrugged. "Rest is history, I guess."

Alethea was silent for a moment and nodded, her eyes going misty with nostalgia. "And that was when I arrived here, with those two lovebirds. This world is very different than Rilia, but it has been good. Not quite as dusty, either."

Kvothe nodded. "What about you, Rakesh? Where are you from? I... can't say I've heard very much about the other regions. A bit, here and there, but not a whole lot."

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

“We were. Er…they were, rather. My brother and I were born here.”

Rakesh nodded slightly, drinking a bit more from his own tea as Hriff decided he would prefer the other shoulder and clambered along his back to get there. A brother…well, it wasn’t uncommon, but the information was filed away none the less. Perhaps one of the two would be of some use to him eventually. As Kvothe continued, Rakesh pondered the words. One of the merchant families from Noreha, hmm? I wonder which…

“But they left a long time ago. About fifty years ago, I think. That’s right, isn’t it, Alethea?”

Fifty years back…now that was interesting. Interesting enough that he had to be careful not to show it. His father and a few others had swept through Noreha’s plains around that time, moving against the traitorous Algaterra house and sending them fleeing for their lives…if they weren’t sent to the Winds first. The whole area had been in turmoil for several years after that, and even now some still rebelled. Even he’d had a hand in putting down some of them, not least of all the squashing of the remaining Algaterras attempting to rise up once again and take back their old manor.

“Yeah, fifty years back. To get away from the…”

Rakesh paused in the middle of taking another drink, the cup already to his lips. For a moment only he paused before actually taking his drink and settling the cup down on the saucer in his other hand once more. He tried valiantly to play it off, but it was too late and his suspicions were already raised. People didn’t flee Rilia to get away from fighting they had no part in; they hunkered down and let the Wind of Change sweep around them or moved to another city until it was safe to return. The ones who fled were involved…directly or indirectly. Despite his own curiosity, he nodded slightly to Alethea and Kvothe before turning his attention back to the pup and his questions.

”The Hithlume region…mountainous, rocky, misty…full of heather and people as sturdy as the land they come from. I spent a good amount of my life traveling, however, so I’ve lost much of my accent. That makes me wonder, though…which family? I knew one or two of the merchant families in the Noreha area…” he mentioned with a casual interest. ”Perhaps I could let you know how your extended family fares, since several of the older ones have returned to the plains recently.”

[Rugs]

Alethea sipped on her tea as she watched the two men talk. Her strikingly-blue eyes watched, saw many things, and her mind whirred away quietly behind the veil of casual interest. This day was proving to be more interesting than she'd thought it would. It was always good to see young Kvothe, but the appearance of this other man, this Rakesh... well, it was unexpected, but not necessarily unwelcome.

Not necessarily.

The boy would do well to exercise caution, though. She sipped lightly from her tea as Kvothe spoke about the Algaterras' past. Or what he'd been led to believe had been their past. Uriel had been a wise man, a model father for Kvothe to look up to and grow up with. Such a shame that he'd had to go on to the Winds so early, and by assassination ordered by his own son at that.

She'd not had many problems with his decision to keep their past hidden from the two brothers, and simply Kvothe once Vorian went his way. It was a dark stain that had little bearing on their new life here, and Kvothe--while he was not a stupid man--was passionate, as his mother had been. The last thing they needed from him was to run off to Rilia to see to the problems of his ancestors.

But none of them had expected that the problems from Rilia might come here.

As she watched this Rakesh, however, she found herself wishing that Uriel had taken the time to explain at least a little bit. He'd left a failsafe behind, guarded by an old friend of his in the Mythics' Tower, but to tell a least a little could not hurt. Or to take more time to talk the boy through dealing with visitors from the homeworld. She'd been old by some races' standards--over fifty--when they fled Rilia. Those eyes had seen many things on that world, and her mind still remembered much.

Perhaps that was what had her quietly wary of Rakesh.

His aura, so dark and shadowlike, had been the first sign. Even Kvothe should have picked something up from that, but if the boy did, he gave no sign. Perhaps it was simply courtesy; after all, the aura color, while attention catching, was no reason to turn the man away or treat him poorly. He was a guest, and he'd been very polite. So far.

But other things had caught her attention as Rakesh conversed with Kvothe. The color of his hair, his facial features. The color of his clothing. She wasn't quite ready to make a judgment on him, not so quickly, but she had a hunch growing in the back of her mind. If that hunch held true, Kvothe could in a very dangerous line of conversation with Rakesh.

And the boy didn't even know it.

”The Hithlume region…mountainous, rocky, misty…full of heather and people as sturdy as the land they come from. I spent a good amount of my life traveling, however, so I’ve lost much of my accent."

Interesting. She sipped from her tea again and lightly stroked the head of her star swallow friend. She hailed from Hithlume herself. Even though she'd often traveled to Noreha as a priestess, and even though she hadn't been back in half a century, her accent was still thick.

"That makes me wonder, though…which family? I knew one or two of the merchant families in the Noreha area... Perhaps I could let you know how your extended family fares, since several of the older ones have returned to the plains recently.”

This one is clever, she thought, flicking her gaze to Rakesh for a moment. Too clever for this boy. Now she looked to Kvothe, who, for all his knowledge and experience in some areas, was incredibly naive in others. His ignorance of the truth in this matter wasn't helping him at all, either. Be careful boy. Think before you open your mouth.

To his credit, Kvothe did take a moment to consider the question. He shifted in his seat, leaned back a bit. Alethea wondered what was running through the boy's mind. She also had a feeling she knew what his answer would be before he said it.

"Do you?" he started slowly. It always secretly amused her, noticing the way growing up on Aiaru had affected the boy's Rilan. He spoke it beautifully, but he wouldn't be fooling anyone into thinking he was a native of the homeworld. "Well, father always said we likely didn't have any other relatives still on Rilia, but..." He looked down at his tea and drank from it. "Algaterra. That's our family name."

Winds, boy! Alethea's eyes flicked over to Rakesh again. It was just a hunch. Just a hunch. But now was the time to step in before the boy created more potential danger for himself.

"Do you kn-" he started before she cut in.

"Alright, child, I think that's enough for now."Kvothe looked at her. She'd said it warmly, with a little smile, but her voice had a firmness to it that brokered no argument. "The heat of the day is coming, and you still have to get outside."

Kvothe frowned a bit. No doubt he wasn't pleased with having his conversation cut short. "But-"

"Besides," she went on, "don't you have somewhere to be later today once you're done here?"

That made him think. "Yeah. A vigil down in Albasta." He sighed. "I suppose you're right."

She nodded slightly. "I'm sure you'll have time to talk with our visitor again. But you should start on your work." She chuckled. "I didn't have you out here to idly chat away the daylight."

Kvothe chuckled slightly as he stood and stretched, scratching the back of his arm between the ridges of his triceps. "It was good to meet you, Rakesh." He gave a polite nod of his head and headed outside. Fas followed him.

That left just Alethea and Rakesh inside. Alethea idly stirred her tea as she turned her attention to Rakesh. "He's a good one, that boy." She sighed and looked to a stand near her. A photo display sat on top of it, projecting holographic images into the air. The moved at a set interval, changing every ten minutes. Presently it showed an image from just over twenty years ago, when the Algaterra family had been whole. It was outside her house, in the snows that had fallen that winter. Kvothe and Vorian were boys of nine and ten respectively, and each was huddled behind a low pile of snow that acted as a barrier of sorts. Kvothe was with his mother, Etain, whose olive skin and black hair had been passed to Vorian. Vorian was with Uriel, who had the auburn hair and slightly fairer skin had been passed to Kvothe.

All were laughing, smiling. Snowballs hung suspended in the air between them and their forts.

If only it could have lasted.

She sighed quietly as she looked back to Rakesh. What to do with him? That hunch still nagged at the back of her mind.

"So, Rakesh... Does that name hold any significance to you?" She still sat comfortably, holding her cup in one hand. But she watched him carefully as she awaited his response.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

He may not have been as old or as wise as his mentor, but Mornar had taught him well…and life had taught him well. He’d lived quite a long time considering his profession and the things he’d been through, and he’d managed to pick up quite a number of useful skills, both with and without the use of the Winds. For instance…he didn’t need his senses to feel the cautious wariness the woman held about her, veiled by her patient curiosity. It hung in the air like a cool mist. Still, he wasn’t fool enough to act on the subtle tension he felt in the air, nor was he fool enough to show how he felt about it. In this instance it was best to remain subtle and calm. Even if she did have suspicions of who or what he was (and he had no delusions that his aura hadn’t raised some suspicion in her, at least) if he maintained a calm and polite countenance he was more likely to remain unhindered and unmolested.

After all…if she was truly a priestess, he wished to harm her about as much as he wished to harm himself.

Grey eyes watched as Kvothe settled back into his seat, thinking over his answer. “Do you?” Rakesh nodded a bit, uttering a short ‘indeed.’ It wasn’t a lie, after all. He did know a few families from the area, for better or worse…including his wife’s family. Still, while he’d had suspicions, he couldn’t actually believe the pup was foolish enough to say what he did.

“Algaterra. That’s our family name.”

The faintest hint of surprised pale yellow threaded into his grey eyes before fading an instant later as he took sharp control of his emotions once again. One eyebrow lifted just slightly, raising a bit more as Alethea cut the pup off, insisting that it was time for him to get out to work. Interesting…well then, I suppose this means I have a few more loose ends to clean up. It’s a shame the priestess had to be involved, but these two traitors…this pup and his brother…need to be taken care of. He sat quietly as the two bantered for a moment, his mind working over how and when to strike. First he needed more information on the two of them…needed to find their respective strengths and weaknesses. More importantly, if he could get one of them to turn on the other and get the two to kill each other…yes, that would be best, if possible.

Patience will prevail on this…patience and ‘guidance’…

“I didn’t have you out here to idly chat away the daylight.”

As Kvothe stood, so did Rakesh. It was habit by now…rising from his seat out of propriety, his cup and saucer being settled down on a side table in the process. <<And the same, Kvothe,>> he replied before settling back into his seat as Kvothe left, followed closely by his many-tailed feline. Taking up his cup again, Kesh took another drink of his tea. It really was well spiced, if slightly off from the original flavor.

“He’s a good one, that boy.”

Rakesh looked up from his tea at her words, then followed her gaze to the picture that was projected near by. For a long moment he studied it, the people within it, and felt a stab at his heart that caused his brow to furrow just slightly. Turning his eyes away, he took another drink of the tea with closed eyes, savoring the scent and flavor of the liquid as he fought down his more…dangerous…emotions. Now was hardly a time to feel that rage and hatred, be it for the Algaterra line or the ones he’d called family. To his credit, Rakesh did an admirable job of leashing the hurt-fueled anger and keeping it under close wraps until he was calm enough to open his eyes and not have it show.

“So, Rakesh…Does that name hold any significance to you?”

His answer didn’t even need a moment of thought, just a soft breath and a slight sigh.

<<There are few who have been through Noreha who don’t know the name in some manner, Hiril. I am no different. They were a Morequai house who was crushed by the others after supposedly harboring Feanturi.>> He shook his head slightly and closed his eyes again for a moment, letting the sadness, the loss, of his comrades…his friends…bleed through, if only just barely, before closing the emotions off again and opening his eyes. <<Not long back there was another uprising of them and the feanturi at the old estates…the place is little more than rubble now…>> She could make what she liked out of his words, but he was careful enough to keep just how much he knew about the happenings there to himself.

<<It was quite the source of rumors and hypothesis for several years. Especially in the plains.>>

[Rugs]

Kvothe sighed as he stepped outside. The sun was higher in the sky now than it had been when he'd arrived. The day had only gotten hotter, and it was humid to boot. "Not exactly ideal," he muttered to himself, speaking in Basic again now that he was alone. But he had wasted time in his conversation with Rakesh, though he wondered why Alethea had been so quick to cut him off. Could've at least let me hear if he knew our family. He sighed as he strode to the small storage room that jutted out from one side of the house. It had been so long since he'd talked to another Rilan that wasn't his brother or Alethea. Too long; conversations with the first were seldom merely conversation or pleasant, and the latter had a sense of familiarity to her.

The old doors creaked softly as he opened them and looked around. The storage room was neat and orderly, as always. Smaller tools lined three shelves on either wall, and Alethea kept her large ones in the back, easily ordered and kept in groups from the left side to the right. He stepped inside, waving his hand in front of his face to keep some of the motes of dust away.

If he was fast, he might be able to go back in and keep talking with Rakesh. He didn't know what the man was looking for, or where he'd been going, but he didn't seem to be in too big of a rush. Can't go too fast, he thought with a soft chuckle as he picked up a hoe and set it near a shovel he'd already taken. Or I'll be back out here doing it all over again. Love him or no, Alethea didn't play with her garden.

After a few moments of gathering the tools he'd need, Kvothe stepped back outside and looked at the rectangular plot of ground he'd be working with. It was one of the larger gardens, where Alethea had grown some of her winter plants. With winter's teeth gone and spring's breath warming the air, they'd wilted and died. So he'd have to pull them up and hoe the ground to make way for Alethea's spring planting. It was dirty work, especially in the sun and the heat and the humidity, but he didn't mind. It reminded him of days gone by, when he'd done this with Vorian.

Back when they hadn't always been at each other's throats.

"Well, might as well get to it." He set the hoe down and rolled his shoulders and neck. Before he went to work, he spotted Fas, who'd found a place to lay down. Under the tree next Rakesh's mount.

In the shade.

Kvothe barked a laugh and shook his head as threads of silver weaved through his hazel eyes. "Try not to get too comfortable Fas." Fas picked his head up from his paws and looked at Kvothe, a single ear twitching. If the bond was anything to go by, the flickercat had no intentions of leaving the shade until they went back inside.

Kvothe 'tsked' twice and shook his head, taking the opportunity to wipe some of the sweat from his brow. Mtyhos-blasted humidity! He hadn't even done anything and he was already sweating.

Ignoring that, he set to work. The sooner he started, the sooner he could finish, and he wanted to hear what Rakesh knew before he had to leave for Veles.

-------------

<<There are few who have been through Noreha who don’t know the name in some manner, Hiril. I am no different. They were a Morequai house who was crushed by the others after supposedly harboring Feanturi.>>

Alethea nodded slightly at his answer, enough to acknowledge it. She knew these things already, of course--she could remember the night word reached Absalom of the approaching Morequai coalition that had come to destroy them. It was the catalyst that had led to Etain and Uriel fleeing and ultimately coming to Aiaru. She'd never forget watching tears fall from Uriel's eyes as they got a final look at the lights around the Algaterra estate as their ship hurtled away. It was a shame they'd not learned of Ishmael's betrayal until it was too late.

But anyone from Noreha would know of that. The Morequai would've made sure of that, if the magnitude of the event hadn't been enough to keep it on people's tongues. Word of one of the great Houses being crushed for traitorism had likely spread like wildfire across Rilia, or so she imagined. House Algaterra was an example. A threat, and a reminder of the power the war lords held.

An answer without giving answer, she mulled. This one is clever. She sipped her tea.

<<Not long back there was another uprising of them and the Feanturi at the old estates…the place is little more than rubble now... It was quite the source of rumors and hypothesis for several years. Especially in the plains.>>

That was news. Understandably, she hadn't had much contact with Rilia since she fled with Uriel and Etain. It was to keep knowledge of where they were, and even the knowledge that they yet lived, hidden; the Algaterra line had to remain dead to the people of Rilia.

But a resurgence? Did some survive the purge? Her brows lifted slightly, and she took a moment to consider the news, sipping from her tea some more.

"I remember the night they fled," she started, quietly setting her teacup on its saucer. She folded her small hands in her lap and looked at Rakesh levelly. Some information could be divulged; he already knew the Algaterra line was still alive, and could probably infer she'd played a role in helping it be so.

"It was terrible, knowing what was coming to that House. Absalom was such a good, noble man, as his people deserved. It's a shame that it was his own little brother that sold him out to the other houses, all for a deluded hope to take the reins of control for himself." That was more that she could say. Absalom and Ishmael were half a century dead, the story already known by some. She withheld another comment though, about how the Algaterra line seemed to be cursed with infighting; Kvothe had already revealed he had a brother, and she didn't want to give this one ideas. Not with her suspicions.

"I can only hope he fought until the end for what he believed was right," she continued, "but in the end, it doesn't matter. He is dead, as sure as I am old. I expect the Algaterra lands were taken and divided up, if a single House didn't claim them.

"But this news of a resurgence is intriguing." Faint hints of green threaded her sharp blue eyes; a sign that she was interested in something, rather than the happiness it denoted in most others. Her colors had always been off from the norm. "Crushed, as I would imagine." Alethea nodded, then decided to make a play to see how he responded.

"Though I do wonder," she said with a light sigh, "if the Skandrannons were involved in putting them down the second time." There was something in the way she said the name, the way her gaze at him shifted just slightly. The hints were very subtle, but they were there, if he had the eye or ear to find them.

Alethea went on as if nothing was amiss, picking her tea up again and stirring it idly. "It would be fitting, after their involvement in the first purge, don't you think?"

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

The lifting of her brows to his news of a resurgence of the line on Rilia showed easily that she hadn’t expected that news. Still, he knew she was going to test him…was testing him…and that a simple raising of her brows in surprise or curiosity wasn’t going to get him off the hook. If there was one thing he learned about priestesses, especially wizened ones, it was that they were about as crafty as he or any other assassin was…if not more so, if they had a reason to be. This woman in particular had years, wisdom, and no doubt firsthand knowledge of the current topic…he had no delusions that he might be outwitted and outclassed here if he wasn’t extremely careful.

“I remember the night they fled…”

As he’d thought, she had been there. Not surprising, but not welcome information. She could very well have known patare. Still, he remained calm and relaxed, keeping his presence in the Winds to little more than the minimal amounts it took to be ‘alive’…after all, the winds touched every living being, whether they had enough ability to feel them that they could learn to use them, or if they were simple people who couldn’t. There was little point in making it less, just in case he came across someone who could tell the difference…and if (when, in this case) he did come across one, if was not his preference to have them know that he could possibly be a match for them in a fight.

“It’s a shame that it was his own little brother that sold him out to the other houses, all for a deluded hope to take the reins of control for himself.”

Watching and listening as Alethea spoke, he huffed softly (the vaguest of chuckles, coming out at little more than quiet air) and shook his head almost imperceptibly. <<Somehow, that hardly surprises me.>> It was an intentional understatement. Rakesh knew only too well about betrayal of siblings for power. He’d seen it first hand, and even fallen victim to it himself. He had suspicions of what had caused the beginnings of his personal 9th level of hell…treachery. Still, he managed a shrug of his shoulders to the rest of her comments on the old battle and shook his head a bit.

<<That was before my time, Hiril Alethea. The only thing I’ve known are divided lands in the plains.>>

It was an honest enough reply. He could only guess at what had once been Algaterra lands…he knew the divisions well enough, most did, but how or when they’d been divided was beyond him. Perhaps, at one time, they had belonged all to one of the other houses, but he knew that now it was not the case. Taking a last drink of his tea, he swirled the dregs around gently and looked into them before settling the cup and saucer back on the table. The green in her eyes had him even more wary than before. It was odd to see it there…that ‘happy’ color. It had to have meant something different for her…but what? Jealousy? Unlikely…no…best to watch and wait than to make assumptions right now.

“Though I do wonder if the Skandrannons were involved in putting them down the second time.”

A bit of that old anger seeped in, spiking small, thin, lances of black and red into his eyes as his face darkened.

“It would be fitting, after their involvement in the first purge, don’t you think?”

He knew her game, but he let his anger at his siblings seep through anyway. It might just work for him if he played it right. Still, he couldn’t help the snort of distaste that escaped him. <<They were. I wasn’t the only one to see a couple of their bastard Generals camped outside of Noreha for several days following the event.>> Rakesh only paused for a moment, but that moment (for him at least) seemed to drag on as he both struggled with his old hate and loathing, but tried to decide the best course of actions. <<There is no doubt in my mind that good people died that night because of them, and I pray the winds damn them all for it and every other transgression they’ve made.>> Yes, he knew he was damning himself as well with those words but, so far as he was concerned, he already was damned. No point in trying to escape it by trying to find a better wording and possibly allow a loophole for his siblings in that damnation.

After a few moments following his words, he seemed to leash his anger again, the furious red and black punctuating his eye color fading back into that stormy grey. <<Forgive my outburst, Hiril, but I have little love for the members of that House.>> Though he remained still, his words were still sharp and hard, his posture tense as he slowly worked to relax himself out again. It was bad enough, that Hriff chirruped softly from under the folds of his sash, poking a small head out that was shaded a mottled sandy-yellow and brown in his concern. Closing his eyes half a moment, Rakesh took a breath and calmed himself fully, the tension in his muscles easing out with it.

Internally he grimaced. He’d come to the verge of losing control over his emotions there and put himself even more at risk because of it. While he’d spoken truth, and done so in a way that kept his direct involvement in it clouded, it was too dangerous a thing to have done around a person such as Alethea. As he gathered his wits back together, he knew the course he’d taken had perhaps been too close to the truth…perhaps. But, now that he was so painfully close to the truth, he may as well stay there…if not get even closer. <<My apologies again, Hiril…I had people as close as family involved there that night. People who died in the ambush…>> He sighed heavily, and shook his head. <<It is still a painful memory, even after all of these years.>>

There wasn’t an ounce of lie in anything he told her…

…still, he wasn’t stupid enough to tell the full truth.

[Rugs]

So the lands had been divided up. That was a shame, but not an unexpected one; with the ruling House fallen from grace and destroyed, someone would have to step in and take over the area. Or several someones, as it sounded. "Pity," she said simply. I only hope the Lords that control the lands now are half the men that Absalom was. Somehow, she very much doubted that they were.

But she continued to watch Rakesh with a subtle sharpness, gauging his reaction. While he was not unwelcome, she needed to get a feel for this man--a feel for who he really was. For Kvothe's safety, if not her own.

And apparently, the mention of the Skandrannons, or of the crushing of Algaterra resurgence touched a nerve in him. She could feel the fury in him through the Winds, even if it was held back. Controlled and focused, unlike Kvothe, whose anger could flare like a wildfire in the southern Plains during the dry season.

Not that she needed to feel him to know something made him angry; the thin threads of black and red were hard to see, but they were there.

Interesting, she thought calmly, before he spoke. Strong emotions for a man who controls himself as tightly as this one seems to.

<<They were. I wasn’t the only one to see a couple of their bastard Generals camped outside of Noreha for several days following the event. There is no doubt in my mind that good people died that night because of them, and I pray the winds damn them all for it and every other transgression they’ve made.>>

Alethea did little more than nod at the information, but her mind was whirling beneath the surface.

<<Forgive my outburst, Hiril, but I have little love for the members of that House.>>

She nodded again, making a small dismissive wave. "It's hardly anything to apologize for, Rakesh. Many men hold little love for the Morequai. And the Lords have done little to change that in the decades I've been away, it seems."

His outburst, his show of emotion at the mention of that House was interesting. He'd said little to confirm her hunch--not directly, anyway--but that hunch was one that would likely need little confirming, considering his dress and appearance.

But then again, while he'd not confirmed her suspicion, he hadn't denied it. If anything, he'd only made her more curious, more wary.

Them and they, them and they she thought, still stirring her tea. Their generals. May the Winds damn all of them for the things they've done. She tapped her spoon lightly on the side of her teacup and set it on the table.

He separates himself from them, yet he bears their features, wears the colors, carries the crest on his belt. She drank calmly from her tea, taking a few moments to think and plan her next step. It might be that it's just part of his ploy.

Did he know she knew, or suspected? Surely he must have suspected. He might not know her exact age, but she'd lived on Rilia for half a century, and had likely left the world before he'd even been close to being born. She was no fool; priestesses seldom were.

Or it could be that there's more to this than what he's saying. It wouldn't surprise her. Rakesh struck her as an intelligent man. Crafty, if his handling of Kvothe was anything to go by. She may not have been a fool, but neither did she think he was one.

"You have my deepest sympathies for your losses, Rakesh," she said earnestly, leaning down to set her teacup on the table. "I hope with all my soul that your friends have found peace in Silmorne in the time since, may the Winds ever watch over them."

She nodded silently to him once more in a moment of solidarity, let silence hang in the air for a moment, until the star swallow chirped softly from its perch on the arm of her chair. Then she folded her hands in her lap again and spoke.

"However, I have to say, I find such animosity, such dissociation..." Alethea let her words linger for a moment as purposefully let her eyes flick briefly to the crest on his belt, " toward the Skandrannons interesting, for a man such as yourself."

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

“It’s hardy anything to apologize for, Rakesh. Many men hold little love for the Morequai, and the Lords have done little to change that in the decades I’ve been away, it seems.”

He hardly needed to be told that. Even being one of them he had a hate for the majority. What he went through as a child and what he saw his siblings do to their own people was enough of a reason…everything else was just fuel for the fire. His mind drifted, for a moment, to the marred insignia on his right arm, a part of him wondering just which of his oh-so-capable siblings had gotten lordship over his people. Of course, it went deeper than that…he was hoping that they weren’t suffering too badly, but every time he bothered to think that specifically he knew the answer. He just couldn’t afford a new wave of anger and hatred.

Not now.

She’s already too painfully close. There’s no way she couldn’t know…He could all but see it in her eyes. Still, he wasn’t going to give her anything easily…though, her next words took him mildly by surprise. A slight, momentary, knitting of his brows the only sign of his confusion…though touches of it still lingered around the corners of his eyes.

“You have my deepest sympathies for your losses, Rakesh. I hope with all my soul that your friends have found peace in Silmorne in the time since; may the Winds ever watch over them.”

The sincerity in her voice was…unexpected, to say the least; especially in these circumstances. Passively he tried to garner some other emotion, some ulterior motive, to her words through the Winds. Considering how he was keeping his abilities reigned in to the point where he would feel like little more than your average non-sensitive, it was difficult to do. Even so, he couldn’t sense anything from her except honesty. For a long moment both of them were quiet as Rakesh attempted to decide how to react to it.

<<Thank you, Hiril. I pray for the same thing daily.>>

It wasn’t a lie.

For another few moments the silence rested between them, the little bird settled on the arm of her chair chirping and gaining Hriff’s attention as he attempted to gain Rakesh’s. Glancing down at the little drake that was now settled on his forearm, he shook his head slightly. Don’t get any ideas, Hriff. I don’t need you causing trouble because you tried to eat her pet. Turning his eyes from the sparrow up to Rakesh, Hriff rustled his wings and chittered quietly, huffing his displeasure at the end. Still, the little drake would turn his head back around and give the bird a sly, predatory, look…just moments before Kesh plucked Hriff off his arm and plopped him back into his pouch, shutting it again.

“…such disassociation…toward the Skandrannons interesting, for a man such as yourself.”

The short motion of her eyes wasn’t missed by him, but he remained quiet and passive anyway, as if he hadn’t truly noticed. After a moment he shrugged slightly.

<<I don’t doubt that you are.>> For a moment he was quiet, looking at her steadily. He was acutely aware of the blackened brands around his eye and what they meant…so why she was acting as if she didn’t he wasn’t sure. Perhaps she simply didn’t recall the intricacies of Morequai ‘culture’ after so many years away. Mentally he sighed a bit. The boy would be more difficult to manipulate if he knew what Rakesh was…had been…but, oh well. He’d just have to work around that particular problem. <<Things change with time, Hiril…sometimes slowly, sometimes violently, normally irrevocably. You, above all, should know that truth about life…and that no one is immune from it.>>

He would allow that to settle in her mind silently for a few moments before silently conceding the fact that she had to know, by now, something of who and what he was. There was no way around it by this point, all he had to do was find out exactly what decision she’d come to about him. And so he spoke again. <<And so, Hiril, what have you decided about me, now that you’ve had time to speak to me alone? Have you decided, yet, on if I’m a threat to you and the pup?>>

[Rugs]

She watched him steadily as he considered his words quietly for a moment. As she waited for his response, she studied him, looked at the platinum blonde hair, the green and black of his clothing, the crest at his belt. And then there were the tattoos. With so many on Aiaru--even Kvothe--bearing marks on their face, it'd taken her a moment to truly see them, but they spoke as loudly as anything else about this Rakesh.

Perhaps even louder.

There's no doubt, she thought. He is a Morequai, and not an unimportant one if I remember the markings correctly.

That might have been cause for worry, probably should have sent a chill rolling down her spine. But the years had made Alethea calm, and steady as a stone. Maybe this man would be cause for true concern, but for now she waited and listened to what he had to say.

<<Things change with time, Hiril…sometimes slowly, sometimes violently, normally irrevocably. You, above all, should know that truth about life…and that no one is immune from it.>>

Alethea chuckled softly. A little knowing smile teased the corners of her mouth. Change had been the story of her hundred years, over and over again. From her humble birth to her rising to stand as a priestess and friend to a Morequai Lord, to leaving everything behind when she fled Rilia for Aiaru.

"There is a great deal of truth in that, aye." She'd been witness to it, and to the disaster it brought on the Algaterra family.

But how has change touched this one, I wonder.

A silence hung between them for a few moments. It was a silence that seemed to stretch, to touch the air with a breath of anticipation. Alethea sat calmly, watching him as her mind worked, until finally, he spoke.

<<And so, Hiril, what have you decided about me, now that you’ve had time to speak to me alone? Have you decided, yet, on if I’m a threat to you and the pup?>>

Alethea's brows lifted slightly at the abruptness of the question. "Such a rush for an answer," she said, leaning back in her seat, "a few short moments of conversation are hardly enough to garner the measure of a man." She allowed herself to give him a faint little smile. "Not in the fashion that you require for an answer. Not yet." For a few short moments, she studied him further, silently putting her thoughts together.

"But," she started again, "if you must have an answer to your question, then you'll find it is 'perhaps'." The star swallow ruffled its feathers softly as Alethea leaned forward to pick her tea up again. After taking a moment to pour some more into the cup, along with some honey, she sat up straight again and spoke as she stirred.

"Certainly, the arrival of a Morequai at my door--and a general, if I remember my tattoos correctly--may be cause for concern." With the tea stirred to her satisfaction, she tapped the rim of the cup with her spoon and set it down. Then she took a brief moment to sip.

"The fact that this Morequai is a Skandrannon may be even more cause for concern, knowing the heritage of the boy and the Skandrannon involvement in destroying it." She looked at him levelly as she spoke, and though she was old, her voice was strong and steady. "So I am sure you will understand if I say I am more concerned for what may happen to the boy than myself.

"But, can I definitively call you a threat?" Alethea's lips pursed slightly and she shrugged. "It is too early to say. The answer to that, Rakesh, depends entirely on the kind of man you are. It depends on if you are the sort of man that would seek to harm or kill Kvothe for his ancestor's so-called 'sins' he had no hand in--and as you can clearly see from his belief on where the Algaterras come from, has no knowledge of. If that is the man you are, then yes, you very well may be a threat.

"Or," she went on, "you may not be that man. And I may judge you prematurely, but from everything you've shown me so far, be it truth or facade, you seem the sort of man to think before you act. And if that is true, perhaps you may come to see that Kvothe is not an Algaterra of Rilia." The star swallow suddenly took to the air in a ruffle of light and feathers. It flew a short flight, coming to land on the back of Rakesh's seat, near his shoulder. Alethea smiled inwardly, thinking of what the man had said earlier, and how the bird encapsulated it perfectly.

"He shares the blood and the name," she said, nodding slightly to him, "but, as you say, things change."

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

I’m having difficulty transitioning in this post so it might be kinda…iffy…in quality.

---

“Such a rush for an answer…”

No, he didn’t believe the question had been rushed at all. He had asked if she’d decided if he was a threat or not. Either she had decided if he was, or she hadn’t been able to decide yet…he wasn’t asking what her decision was…and certainly she had already formed some opinion of him. People formed opinions of others on less. Still, he sat quietly through her answer, having little to say to it. Of course he was going to kill or ruin the boy…but he wasn’t going to be so blatant about it. No, he had to find this brother of his first and see what the dynamic was between them, not to mention the fact that he had someone else to hunt down.

<<Hardly a rush, Hiril…>> he commented with a slight smirk and a quiet chuckle as he plucked Hriff off his leg again and stood, dropping the little mirjhai into its pouch at the end of her long reply. <<You could have simply said that you were unsure as of yet because it was too soon to tell and left it at that. I did leave it open for that option.>> There was a hint of amusement in his voice, though those eyes remained a steady grey. Still, he’d give her a polite little bow and a smile as he stepped around the table and paused. <<Thank you for your indulgence and hospitality, Hiril, but I believe I’ve spent enough time in your care for today.>>

With another slight bow, he would turn and make his way to the door and outside into the heat of the day. While whatever it was drawing him here in the Winds had dissipated, there was something else nagging at him now. Perhaps it was the woman he’d just finished speaking to that had him on edge, but there was a sensation of lingering danger that prickled at his very being. Grey eyes swept toward the pup, hard at work in the garden area, then to his feline companion lounging in the shade, then over to the horse he’d come in on and out over the land before he started off down the path to the tree where he’d tied the creature up.

[Rugs]

Alethea chuckled softly at Rakesh's response to what she'd told him of her opinion. It was true, that she'd said much to answer a question that most would only give a few words to, but she had her reasons. She had to, with this man, and with Kvothe's safety as a concern that she'd always have to keep in mind now.

For now, though, time would tell what would come of this Rakesh. Certainly his blood and the blood that flowed through Kvothe was potential for trouble enough, but she'd been surprised in the past. We'll see how you move from here, she thought quietly as she stirred her tea.

When Rakesh told her that he would be taking her leave, she nodded and took a last sip from her little teacup. "Very well, Rakesh," she said as she set the cup on the table and stood. "It was a pleasure to have you here. The least I can do is see you off."

She stood up and stretched her old bones out. With a nod to the bird to stay where it was, she followed the Morequai outside to see him off.

----------

"Six moons above, it's hot."

Kvothe sighed as he finished tilling another row of the soft earth Alethea wanted him to prepare for the coming planting season. He'd made good progress so far--the few weeds that had started to grow in the dirt had been uprooted and the most recently-tilled ground made his third row. Not bad for the amount of time he'd been out, and it was good, mindless work that gave the body something to do so his mind could wander in thought.

With the third row done, he decided he could afford to take a break and leaned against the hoe's shaft. His shirt was wet with sweat, his arms slick with it, and bits of his hair clung to his head. "Alethea wasn't lying about the heat of the day..." he muttered as he called a bottle of water over to him on a gentle current of air. "Jeez..."

Still, as worked as he looked, he was fine. The work was hot, and certainly demanded a certain effort be put into it, but it was relatively little compared to what he was used to from training back at the Tower. But it was always good to have something to complain about.

"Hope you're not working too hard over there," he called to Fas. The Flickercat was yet under the tree, with head resting on his front paws and his tails curled around him, the end of one drifting lazily. If the feeling coming through the bond was anything to go by, Fas was quite content with where he was. Kvothe just chuckled and shook his head.

He took a moment more to drink some of his water, and when he'd had his fill, set the bottle back down in the shade. As he stood up and stretched, he looked around, at Alethea's house and at the land beyond. To the South he saw something that caught his eye and held it. It looked like dust, the sort kicked up by a group on the move.

"What's..." He leaned forward and squinted a bit.

Before he could investigate further, he heard the door open and looked over to see Rakesh emerge from the house, followed shortly by the old priestess. He gave a call of acknowledgement and a wave to the two of them.

Rakesh walked to his horse, which took him near to where Kvothe was standing, still leaning against the hoe.

"Hello again, Rakesh," he said, speaking once more in Basic. "Going to t-"

A feeling in the Mythos cut him short. That dust had been kicked up, not blown by the wind; there were people on the move, and they were coming toward the house. With a hand held up to show he'd get back to him, Kvothe stepped forward and half-jogged away from Rakesh, toward the lip of a hill that would let him look down and see who was coming.

"Kvothe," Alethea called. "Is something wrong?"

Kvothe didn't respond immediately, rather looking down the approach to see what was coming at them. There was a group, spread out in a loose triangle on speeder bikes fast approaching them. Kvothe didn't like the way they felt in the Mythos.

"Alethea," he called, looking back over his shoulder to the priestess, "have you heard anything about bandits striking this far north? I know they've gotten bad further south with the drought--that's why I head to Veles from here--but this is a long way to go for that."

Alethea furrowed her grey brows in thought. "A word or two, aye. But nothing that sounded out of the ordinary." She shrugged slightly. "Bandits aren't exclusive to the south. The stupid ones attempt to raid the towns and villages in the hills here, but it rarely gets them anything."

"Exactly..." Kvothe muttered as he looked back at the approaching group. "Why try up here..." A grim thought crossed his mind and his brows knit darkly. Because she lives out here alone.

The Mythos flowed into him as he stepped back to his speeder and pulled his bladed staff from the back seat. If he'd had the time, he might have put on the white armor that was there, along with his sword, but there wasn't any use even considering it. There was always a chance they weren't bandits, but he wasn't going to take any chances.

It didn't take long for them to get there. The bikes they rode in on where so worn as to barely look to be in working condition. They pulled into a small semi-circle and dismounted.

If they weren't bandits, they did a terrible job of dressing like it. Most of them were grimy or otherwise dirty, with rough-shaven faces and unkempt hair. Their clothes looked worn and dirty from hard use and travel.

As they dismounted, Kvothe studied the weapons they carried. The bulk of them had simple melee weapons--clubs and cudgels, even a sword on the hip of two that must have been lucky in a past raid. Three of them had ranged weapons: two pistols and a rifle. Kvothe guessed the one with the rifle was the leader.

He was right. The man was big, barrel chested with a coat of scruff on his face below his short, curly hair.

"Well, look wha' we found ourselves, boys," he said. "An old hag, a horse man and some boy with a stick tha' looks like he wants to play at bein' hero."

Kvothe stared at them calmly. "There's nothing here for you. Leave now, and I promise things will go better for you than if you stay."

The group of them laughed.

"Oi, boss!" one called from the back. "Maybe he's stupid! I don't think he can count."

"Must be," the leader agreed. He weighed Kvothe with his eyes for a second before speaking again. "Look, boy, I can see you got in your head that you can really keep us all away. But you ain't gonna be able to do that. So you just stand aside-"

"Can't do that," Kvothe answered. Numbers were the last thing he was worried about. There was a fair number of them, about ten or so, but none of them could touch the Mythos; he could handle them by himself if needed. But Alethea had to be kept safe; she wasn't a fighter though he knew the priestess was capable of defending herself with barriers through the Mythos. And Rakesh... He glanced sidelong at the man. I don't know what he can do.

"So" he said again, his voice steady and firm as his eyes filled with gold, "I'll tell you this one last time. Leave this place. Now."