For those of you who have been with me a while... I'm not sure if I've mentioned this edit anywhere, but I've retconned the name of the provincial capital to be "Mirathra" in some of the earlier parts of the story. I just kept referring to it as the provincial capital for a long time, and then when I was proofing Book 1 recently I realized it could use an actual name... so here we are. Mirathra.
"Little Rinny!"
The Mycari man set his teacup on the nearest table, spread his arms wide, and smiled with a kindness that transformed his angular features. Corinne crossed the common room at a dead sprint. She hit him like a battering ram, arms locking around his midsection with enough force to make the older man stagger back a full step. He laughed richly and lifted her clean off her feet. Her boots dangled six inches above the floorboards as she squeezed him tighter.
"Uncle Christoph! What are you doing here? Mom didn't say anything about a visit, and you never come to Deadfall during winter, you always say the weather is terrible and the food—"
"The weather is terrible, my darling girl." He set her down, both hands on her shoulders, studying her face with an intensity that belied his easy smile. "And the food is worse, but that's only because I'm spoiled by your grandfather. I am here because your mother sent us a letter that nearly stopped my heart."
He glanced over Corinne at Cassia and something tightened behind his eyes.
"A letter," he continued more quietly, "informing me that a certain C-tier alchemist with criminal connections had targeted my dear niece. So, I hired a Courier and came immediately."
Corinne's excitement dimmed and she bit her lip. "Uncle, I'm fine. Really. It's been handled."
"As I have just been told." Christoph released her shoulders and straightened his cuffs. He was composed again in an instant, the worry gone, his expression polished and controlled. "Your mother was gracious enough to inform me the moment I arrived that the threat, a certain Zarven Mault and his associate, has been, and I quote, 'permanently resolved.' Which is a relief, of course."
He paused, and a flash of theatrical exasperation crossed his face.
"It also means I spent five hundred gold on an emergency Courier for a rescue that was, apparently, no longer required."
Five hundred gold! For a single trip!?
Cal ran the math instantly: he was sitting on a potential goldmine.
Yeah, assuming I don't get murdered out of hand for stealing a Spell if the Halmi family were to find out. Or, you know, slave-branded into service by some Courier guild or another. Veraxus is a scary place; especially when money and power are concerned. And controlling access to something like instantaneous travel across vast distances seems exactly like the kind of power things would get scary over.
Corinne, bless her, was utterly unconcerned with the financial implications of her uncle's travel. She grabbed Christoph's arm. "Well, the trip wasn't wasted because you are here now, and I'm so happy to see you! And you have to meet everyone, so come on."
She dragged him toward the assembled group before he could protest.
"Uncle Christoph, this is Leo Tanner, my friend, and this is Mira Jain. That's Mira's mother, Vonda. And this," she pulled Cal forward with a proprietary tug on his sleeve, "is Cal Valorn."
Christoph studied each of them in turn. He lingered on Mira's wheelchair and Leo holding the handlebars, then finally settled on Cal with a polite nod.
"A pleasure."
Cal caught Corinne's sidelong glance. Her eyes were bright, expectant, and aimed straight at him. He got the hint.
Cal stepped up and extended his hand to Christoph. "The pleasure's ours, sir. We were about to celebrate something over a late breakfast. We'd be honored if you could join us." He turned to Cassia. "You and Gareth are welcome too, if the kitchen can spare him."
Cassia nodded warmly. "The breakfast rush is winding down. Let me go grab him."
Leo maneuvered the wheelchair carefully into the private dining room, tilting the front wheels over the threshold's lip and rolling Mira to the edge of the table. Mira found his forearm and squeezed once.
Cal watched the whole process from across the room with pride. The chair worked. It rolled, it turned, it held her weight, and it fit through doorways. Mira sat at a table with her friends, eye-level with everyone; a full participant.
Not bad for a guy whose last project was a lopsided treehouse.
Once Cassia collected Gareth and the group settled, Christoph reached for his right hand and the silver band on his ring finger. Cal's [Mana Sense] flared as a distinct surge of spiritual energy emanated from the ring. The void ring. The air above Christoph's palm warped, and a flat, rectangular package materialized, wrapped in creamy peach silk and tied with an orange cord.
"For you, Rinny. I'd intended to give this to you under better circumstances, but I refuse to hold it back."
Corinne went wide-eyed. She accepted the package with reverent hands, gently untying the cord and folding back the silk. Inside lay a bracelet. Thin, delicate chains of white silver wove around three small emerald gemstones that caught the runelight and scattered it into green flecks across the table's surface. The craftsmanship was exquisite, every link precise.
"Uncle, it's beautiful," Corinne breathed, holding it up.
"From Velibor's in Mirathra, and the emeralds were sourced through the rune gate to Kar'angor." Christoph allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. "I thought the green would complement your eyes, my dear."
Gareth remained silent. He glanced from the glittering bracelet to his own calloused hands resting on the table, then let out a quiet, dismissive puff of air through his nose. Pushing back his chair, he headed into the kitchen.
While Corinne fastened the bracelet with Cassia's help, Cal let his perception extend outward in a careful expansion. He softened the leading edge of his scan, diffusing it into the ambient spiritual background with [Feathered Edge]. The scan drifted outward like fog rolling across water, imperceptible to all but the most sensitive observers. Christoph didn't flinch, and Cal hadn't expected him to. He'd managed to get that Skill back up to snuff rather quickly; he wasn't going to let anyone sneak up on him in Deadfall or anywhere else. Not if he could help it.
The man's aura materialized in Cal's awareness as a deep, rich blue. High D-tier.
Huh, he's actually kind of powerful. I wonder what Spells he knows? But there's no way he was strong enough to handle Zarven…
"If you don't mind my asking," Cal said, keeping his tone casual, "what was your plan for dealing with the problem here? If the situation hadn't already been resolved?"
Christoph set down his teacup with a delicate click. "My understanding is that Mault was a businessman, ultimately. A predatory and criminal one, to be sure, but a businessman nonetheless. Men of that disposition respond to incentives. I would have come to a private arrangement with him, one that made it clear the benefits of leaving the Hearthsongs unmolested far outweighed any potential gain."
"And the others? The ones who Zarven threatened but weren't Hearthsongs?"
Perfectly sculpted eyebrows drew down on Christoph's forehead, and he regarded Cal with detached curiosity. "My priority was to ensure the safety of my family, young man. I did not come to Deadfall to solve its systemic issues. The Hearthsong family was threatened. I came to address that."
It was all so ruthlessly logical. Christoph would have paid Mault to leave Corinne alone, effectively giving the alchemist a sponsorship to continue his operations, so long as he avoided one particular family. It was just good business.
And Cal hated it. Especially since he understood it perfectly.
Different world, same problems, Cal. The people with real money would rather buy a fence to put around themselves than use their resources to address the underlying issue.
Gareth emerged from the kitchen carrying a wide tray balanced on one arm. He distributed plates around the table: thick slices of peppered venison alongside eggs fried in herb butter, rounds of dark bread toasted golden, and a small pot of wild berry preserve. A second trip produced mugs of warm cider for the younger members of the group and fresh tea for the adults.
Christoph surveyed his plate. One eyebrow rose a fraction.
"How wonderfully… rustic," he murmured, lifting his fork. "There's something to be said for the honest simplicity of frontier cooking."
Gareth put the teapot down on the table with a thunk that made the silverware jump. Cassia placed a hand on Gareth's arm. The big man let out a slow breath and sat.
Cal ate his venison while the family dynamics played out around him. The undercurrents were too familiar. A corporate headquarters exerting pressure on a branch office that valued its independence. Gareth was the branch manager who took pride in his work and resented oversight. Christoph was the executive who saw spreadsheets where Gareth saw soul.
And poor Cassia… she was the skilled diplomat trying to balance the two.
Across the table, Leo cut Mira's venison into small pieces without being asked. She caught him at it and swatted his hand, insisting she could manage. He retreated with a sheepish grin. They settled into their own quiet conversation, heads tilted toward each other, Leo whispering so that Cal could not quite hear but didn't need to. The tenderness of it was plain enough.
Cal felt a wistful pang.
Then Christoph's attention shifted, as he once again eyed the wheelchair where it sat beside the table. Cal watched him examine the frame before he set his cup down.
"Who built this contraption?"
"Cal did!" Corinne answered immediately, her voice full of pride.
Christoph looked over at him, calculating.
"You designed and forged this from scratch? The alloy frame and the pivot mechanism on the forward wheels?"
"With help from the local smith for the metalwork and a wainwright for the wheels," Cal answered honestly. "The design is all mine, though."
Christoph leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Do you have any concept of what this device would be worth in Mirathra? In a city of over a million souls?"
"I… had no idea the size of the city, but I have some concept, yeah."
"I truly doubt you do. This is a type of product that does not currently exist. Premier healers charge ruinous sums for these kinds of injuries; monies that most cannot afford." Mira shot a dejected look at Cal hearing that, but he gave her a reassuring smile in return. "I would be most interested in discussing an arrangement. The blueprints, the manufacturing rights; especially distribution through the Hearthsong supply chain, naturally. We have locations in over a dozen major settlements across the province, I'll have you know."
"I'm certainly open to the conversation, but I'd need time to think it through."
"Of course, of course. These things should never be rushed!"
Translation: he thinks I'm a frontier anomaly who doesn't know what he's sitting on. He'll try to lowball me as well as sign a contract that buries his right to all of my future creations. Cal took a sip of cider. Yeah… we'll see about that.
The acquisitive gleam left Christoph as naturally as it had appeared, smoothing back into practiced sociability. He turned to Cassia.
"Speaking of business, I'd hoped to review the quarterly figures while I'm here. The Kar'angor locations, all five, are exceeding projections by a significant margin since we expanded through the rune gate. The dwarves seem to find our hospitality novel and exotic, and it's doing wonders for our numbers."
Cassia smiled, but her posture shifted, straightening almost imperceptibly. "And I'd be delighted to walk you through things, Christoph. Later. Not at a breakfast table with guests."
"Yes, yes; a fair point." Christoph inclined his head, accepting the deflection gracefully. "Then let us discuss something more pleasant."
He placed his fork beside his plate and addressed the table, though his focus was primarily on Corinne.
"I've been meaning to propose this for some time, and the circumstances now seem ideal. Rinny, I'd like to invite you to visit Mirathra this spring. See the city properly, tour our broader operations, and meet the rest of the family at the main branch. It's been years since they've seen you."
Corinne flushed, eyes huge and shining. "Mirathra? Really? I've been begging Mom to let me visit for—"
"We'll discuss it," Cassia interjected. "It's a generous offer, Christoph."
Cal couldn't let this opportunity pass him by.
"I've been planning a trip there myself, actually. I need to reach the city this spring." He glanced at Mira. "Would there be room in your group for one more?"
Christoph turned to him with renewed interest, but Corinne jumped in before her uncle could respond. "Oh, you have to let him come! Cal's incredibly talented. He took second place in the Reaping Tournament, did Mom tell you? He beat Rielle Draha, an actual noble, in the semifinal round. And he's a Proven adventurer with the guild, and—"
"Corinne." Cal held up a hand. "Please stop before you make me blush."
Christoph studied him for a long moment. Cal could practically see the mental ledger being updated.
"The overland stretch is considerable," Christoph said. "Deadfall is out on the ragged edge. There is only wilderness between here and our destination, and the journey to Mirathra will take roughly one month. Spirit beasts and weather are all persistent concerns, and travelers occasionally go missing." He paused, weighing his words. "Another capable fighter on the road is always a prudent addition. I would welcome your company, young Cal."
"Great! Count me in!"
The meal wound down as the cider cooled and the plates emptied. Christoph dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin and addressed Gareth directly for the first time since the food had been served.
"Nephew, I hope you know that my interest in the business is born of a desire to maintain the standards our family has built. The Hearthsong name carries significance across two provinces now. It is essential that every location upholds that reputation, particularly on the frontier, where oversight is... limited."
Gareth set his mug down. Slowly. The clink of ceramic on wood was the loudest sound in the room.
"I am my father's son," he said, as if that should clarify everything.
Christoph chuckled. "That… is precisely what concerns me."
Cassia grabbed Gareth's arm again. "Christoph, perhaps this is a conversation for another time?" Her voice was silk stretched over steel.
The man spread his hands in a gesture of concession. "Of course, of course. Forgive me."
Gareth said nothing more. He rose, gathered the empty plates, and disappeared back into the kitchen.
The group dispersed by degrees. Christoph escorted Cassia to her office for what Cal assumed would be the financial discussion she had been delaying. Corinne lingered in the doorway, reluctant to let her uncle out of her sight, before Cassia gently reminded her there were tables to clear. Cal walked Leo and Mira toward the front entrance. The common room had emptied to a handful of stragglers nursing late-morning drinks, and the wide doors stood open, letting in a draft of cold air and the soft patter of melting snow.
Leo paused at the threshold, one hand on the push-handles of Mira's chair. He looked out at the grey street, then back at Cal.
"So, what, a month until spring is fully in bloom and the caravans start to move? And then a month of travel on top of that before you even get to Mirathra?"
Cal squinted in thought. "Roughly. It could be longer depending on our pace."
Leo didn't say anything for a moment, staring at the cobblestones. Mira reached up and touched his wrist.
"The bakery renovations," Cal said, guessing at what Leo was thinking. "There's no reason it can't start before I leave, buddy. If we begin planning now, they can be well into the build by the time Corinne and I head out. Heck, it could even be done by the time we get back."
Leo blinked. "The whole project? By myself? Cal, I don't know the first thing about managing that... What if I mess it all up?"
Mira found the back of his hand and squeezed. "You won't."
"She's right you won't. You could pull it off if you had to, but beyond that, you won't have to because that's not your job," Cal added. "I'm going to have Jakob oversee the construction, and he can haggle a nail down to its base ore. I need you to not worry about the logistics. Your job is far more important: the vision."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I want you to spend your time dreaming, Leo. Thinking about what you might need to make the perfect loaf, the perfect pastry. Everything from the proper layout for the kitchen and storage, to a list of every ingredient you've ever wanted to experiment with. Rare flours, spices from the capital; anything. You focus on the craft, buddy. We'll handle the rest."
The anxiety in Leo finally faded, replaced by a slow-dawning excitement as a giddy smile spread across his face. "Really?"
"That's a promise." Cal looked down at Mira, who looked up at him with her steady blue eyes. "Both of them are."
Mira dipped her chin.
Leo offered his hand and Cal shook it, then stood back as the baker carefully guided the wheelchair down the inn's front step and onto the wet cobblestones. Mira said something Cal couldn't catch, and Leo laughed, bending down to hear her better. The sound of the wheels on stone grew distant as they turned the corner toward home.
Cal stood in the doorway of the Hearthsong and let his mind unspool.
So, this just got real. Guess I've got a month to prepare.
As he started to think through everything he needed to get done, he noticed the snow had stopped. Thin sunlight broke through the overcast sky. Cal watched it widen and recognized there was a feeling growing inside him that he hadn't felt in some time.
Excitement. He was looking forward to seeing what else this world had in store.
I hope you all had a great weekend and start to the week. Thanks for reading.
Jon