Little Talks

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It took four hours of flying in circles around the Four Fair Winds, landing every so often on nearby perches to keep his energy conserved, before Arkadius saw the person he had been waiting for. They seemed to be walking with a purpose so he had to strike fast. He dived headfirst, before flipping around to land solidly behind his target, feet hitting the stone of the terrace with a loud enough thunk to stop the person in their tracks. Arkadius’ brain worked quickly to make sure everything would come out right.

He nearly fumbled though when the small figure quickly turned around, hand falling to the pommel of a beautiful rapier by their side before they froze. Arkadius’ carefully chosen words tumbled from his mouth instead, as quick as he could say them.

“Hey, friend. I meant it when I said I owe you big time. Let’s go for a drink? Please don’t kill me, I’m sorry.”

Blue eyes widen in shocked surprise.

“Arkadius? What- You’re here.” Merla quickly scans the trees lining the garden. “When did you-”

“I just portalled in from K’ul Goran a minute ago… well, more like a few hours ago.” Arkadius nods, and attempts a smile at his friend. It turns out to be more of a half-grimace than anything. “I, uhh… I couldn’t stay away?”

“So you’re back now? Are you staying? Or just passing through?” she asks. There’s a tightness to her voice that Arkadius is not sure where it stems from. Could she be unhappy to see him? She relaxes her stance but her hand still rests on her sword.

He is reminded of how he felt when she left him behind, returning to the Feywild, and guilt rises within him.

“I am. I’m staying, assuming I’m still needed. Assuming there’s still things going on that people like us are needed for. And most importantly, assuming you’ll still have me around, Sheryl. I know that I’ve likely hurt you by running away, I remember the feeling,” he says stepping over to a nearby tree to lean on it. “That, and I still have things to resolve here. I still have… feelings and memories to tend to.”

“I see,” is all she says.

Merla studies Arkadius, really looking him over, taking in the changes since she last saw him. They are subtle things, some wear to his stylish pin-striped suit, a bit more of a relaxed way he holds himself. The silver streaks of his hair have not grown and Merla takes that as a sign that he hasn’t been rash during his time away, despite what his first letter told her he would be doing. She breathes in and, yes, there it is, the unmistakable smell of brimstone. It is a bright afternoon, the sun, warm in the private garden area adjacent to her rooms. The birdsong helps to ease her beating heart into a slower rhythm.

She sighs, glancing back to the double stained glass doors of her suite, a silent communication that Arkadius recognises as her talking to Astra. He glances in that direction and sees the rippled, distorted reflection of the winged unicorn through the panes and smiles, shaking his head. Then her attention is back on him, a small half-smile gracing her face.

“You said you wanted to grab a drink and I can spare the time to catch up with my best friend,” she says coming over to him. She looks up at him rather seriously. “But first thing’s first-”

Merla opens her arms and hugs him.

Arkadius returns the hug, an audible sigh of relief escaping from his lips. “I’ve missed you, Sheryl. I really have. I should have come home sooner. But one question is lingering on my mind… Astra still doesn’t like me, does she?” He chuckles as soon as he finishes, probably answering his own question.

“What?” she asks, pulling back to glance at the doors in confusion, then back to Arkadius. “Oh gosh no, that’s not it at all. She thought I was being attacked again and was about to break down the door but I had to assure her it was only you.” She gives a half chuckle. “Astra likes you well enough Arkadius, don’t you worry.”

His chuckle runs on for a few moments before it stops. “I’m glad that she has your back. Her breaking through the door would have been… a sight to behold. I don’t think I’d have survived long enough to apologise.” Merla gives a more heartfelt laugh at that. “Now, about that drink. I believe I owe you, so this round is on me.”

He looks around at the private garden. “You, uhh… seem to have upgraded lodging since I was here last. This is fancy.”

“It was just before you left,” Merla says, starting to lead the way out. “Or perhaps just afterwards.” They passed under a vine covered archway with an oak door, finding themselves on the corner of Jade Street, close to the main road. Merla starts heading south along Castle Road as she continues. “I wanted rooms big enough for Astra to be inside with me during the winter and I have the gold to spare. It has turned out to be a great move. Being the Daughter of Queen Titania means I could easily live in such stately rooms – a kind of status if you will, though no fuss has been made about it.”

They get to a crossroads and turn left onto Evenbloom Street. The moment they step under the building which also serves as the beginning of the road, the noise from Castle Road becomes quieter. Here the buildings are beautiful, each painted in bright colours like a field of flowers. The sun glints off lampposts whilst awnings are pushed out to cover the few shops that have wares outside or restaurants with their front patios open. The two get to a circular, lilac coloured building, smaller than the rest and without stopping Merla goes inside. Arkadius sees a faded gold plaque over the door denoting the place to be called ‘fiore popolare.’

Arkadius quickly becomes aware how small it is inside the moment he steps in, the place barely able to fit ten tables within its circular walls. Taking up most of the space is what he at first thinks is a pillar covered in all sorts of flowers and vines – until he looks up and sees the ceiling is surprisingly high, with thirteen small windows near the top, each a different colour, the roof itself appearing to be one gigantic pane of crystal clear glass. It’s then he realises the pillar in the centre is actually a tree, the branches extending over head. The overall effect makes the room feel a lot bigger and brighter even with more flowers streaming down from on high.

The walls however are what draw Arkadius’ eyes. Bottles and bottles of elixirs, from clear glass, to transparent blue, to opaque black, thin and tall to short and stout, covered in labels of all types of languages. He easily finds his ever favourite Fire Whiskey right away, but next to it is a bottle it takes him a moment to recognise as Faerie Fire Whiskey. He was so caught up in looking at all the different kinds of bottles that he nearly missed Merla waving to him to come join her at a table.

After a quick double-take, Arkadius swiftly joins his friend, taking the chair opposite her. His hands reach out to rest on the table, his arms uncharacteristically uncrossed as a show of openness to his friend.

“I know you’ll have questions. I have questions for you too, but I don’t want to… over-burden you straight away or whatever. I’m just very, very glad to be back and to see you again,” he says, a proper grin starting to appear on his face. “I notice they do both of the gorgeous Fire Whiskeys here, and you very well know from plenty of personal experience… I really do have a weakness for a shot or two… What’ll your poison be, my dear friend?”

“I’ll have the Cherry Blossom Bliss cocktail, if you please,” Merla says with a smile.

Arkadius nods in response, standing back up from the chair only to feel something tickling the top of his head. He raises a hand to swat the low hanging branch away, but instead of hitting supple plantlife, he knocks his knuckles against glass. Looking up properly he sees vines have lowered down and a delicate glass bottle is being held by its neck.

He hears a mischievous giggle.

“This is a place where the drinks come to you. All you need do is say what you want and the tree will provide,” Merla says with a coy smile as she reaches up to take the fine bottle with light pink liquid, swirling petals of cherry blossoms dancing around small bubbles. The viney branches start to retreat back up to the high ceiling. “Go on Arkadius, what would you like?”

He glares upwards at the vines as he returns to his seat. “Whatever happened to good old fashioned bartenders…” he mutters to himself, looking back at his friend. “I’ll have a Fire Whiskey please, o tree of mighty drink providing.”

The vines repeat the process. The bottle is similar to Merla’s but the glass has a more red hue to it, making the liquid inside look like its aflame.

“Eyteliana is a great bartender and I hope you don’t forget to tip her. Khazifa is a dear friend of hers and she highly recommended this place.” Merla looks up at the tree and nods her thanks, raising her bottle, followed by Arkadius also reaching up to take the glass offered to him.

“Ah. Khazifa. I remember her. That lady that put us in the mind of one of Zariel’s devil knights…”

Arkadius purses his lips slightly and rolls his eyes as Merla feels a soft scuffling on her lap. Something has been climbing quickly but softly up her leg and is now content having reached a point where it can rest for a moment. Looking up at Merla, with a soft squeak, is a small weasel.

“It would appear Ida could not wait to leave my pocket and make her reappearance known.”

Merla gasps.

“Ida!! Oh sweet thing, it’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed excitedly, picking up the little weasel and holding her close so she could nuzzle into Merla’s neck. “I’m glad you’re back with Arky.”

Ida gives another squeak, and pats Merla’s neck softly.

“She says that it’s great to be back, and that she’s sorely missed you. And… she said something about me being a cowardly idiot, but I don’t think I really need to say that out loud,” Arkadius swiftly takes a sip of the fire whiskey from his glass, sighing contentedly. “I haven’t had any of this for months… Oh how I’ve missed this. So, Merla. How have you been? What adventures have you to regale me with?”

She raises an eyebrow at the name switch. “Well, for starters, I was going to tell you that you may call me Merla instead of Sheryl, but I guess you’re ahead of the curve. So that’s one thing off The List.” She takes a sip of her cocktail.

Arkadius chuckles, “Okay, well… if you’re calling yourself Merla these days, that some-what takes the wind out of my sails as I was building up to call you Princess Merla, out of humour. Shame.” He takes another sip of Fire Whiskey as Merla gives him a look before her expression becomes less playful, more serious.

“There is so much, all of it intertwined.” She looks at her friend. “You really haven’t heard anything? Even when you were with Kassandra?”

“I was intentionally keeping myself hidden, out of sight and out of mind. So I very much did not hear of anything that was happening. I’ve heard… tidbits, at best.”

Arkadius thinks to himself for a minute, looking up at the tree above him. “Listen. I’m obviously heading over to Port Ffirst at some point, it’s the place I called home for a while. And I didn’t get to see the Fort that was raised for us before I did my vanishing act either… you’re not heading in that direction any time soon, are you? Maybe we could travel together, rest up at the Fort en-route, and I can split off from there onwards to the Port?”

“I will be heading over there in a few days, yes, but it will be for something important. I won’t have the luxury of taking my time to get there,” she says, her expression apologetic. Merla presses her lips together, thinking about something. She takes Ida from the crook of her neck and places her on the table, giving her a little scritch before looking back at Arkadius.

Merla pauses before speaking again.

“Queen Sarastra was assassinated at the signing of the Accords. Since then the Feywild has been a mess of politics, schemes, and power plays. The River King, Ulorian, hosted a gladiatorial style game that saw myself and some others attend. I won’t bore you with the details of the fights but just know that during the Amaranthine Games he brought the Lassitude to Daring Heights. Varis got confirmation of that.”

A humourless smile bends her lips.

“And I may have warned him to never do anything like that again. Of course he laughed me off, not taking my warning seriously. A few weeks later, Daring was being terrorised by a fey and many of its people were seriously hurt.”

Something flashes across her face that makes Merla’s normally pleasing expression harden into sharp, burning steel. “Again, some of us managed to stop the fey but not before the damage was already wrought. I spoke to Varis about it and we agreed – Ulorian has to answer for his crimes.”

Merla takes a measured sip of her drink before she continues. Arkadius notices her knuckles are white as her hand grips the glass bottle.

“On top of that, there have been Unseelie Cabals, using me against my Queen Mother, trying to destroy the Balance. I found their hideout – a Mind Palace – with the help of Kruxeral. I will tell you the full story later but until yesterday he was trapped in the collapsing Mind Palace, being tortured by shadow monsters of the Raven Queen. We were barely able to get out but now he-…” Merla’s voice catches and for the first time Akradius sees just how much tension she is holding within her.

Merla’s hands are shaking as she takes a measured, controlled breath. “He doesn’t remember me. She took away all of his most precious memories – all of the ones with me in them – as punishment for what Kruxeral did.” Merla smiles but it is full of rueful mirth. “So, yes, I’ve been busy since you’ve left and much has changed. I’m glad you’re back, I truly am, but when I say there’s a lot going on I mean it – there is a lot going on.”

Arkadius’ brow wrinkles as he listens to everything Merla says. “I really have missed a lot… and it seems like I returned at the right time. Is there anything we can do to restore Kruxeral’s memories? And… while I am remiss to speak bad or act against the Raven Queen, we both know what She’s done for me… is there anything that can be done?” He pauses for a moment, taking a drink. “I know Kruxeral means a lot to you. Much like Kassandra means a lot to me. So we do something, we get those memories back for you both.”

Merla shakes her head. “You know as well as I the Raven Queen does not forgive easily and what she takes she keeps. There is-… There is no way to get those memories back.”

Arkadius sits quietly for a minute, sipping his drink slowly, as Ida makes her way back to him, climbing up to his chest to reach her usual position in the inner pocket of his jacket. A soft squeak can be heard as she settles inside. “Ida raises a good point. Khazifa, and that potion that we drank before… of course, I told Ida all about the adventures we had while she was away. Could Khazifa not do anything for you both? Though I suspect you’ve already had that thought, you’re smarter than I.”

“What part of ‘the Raven Queen keeps what she takes’ do you not understand, Arkadius?” Merla snaps, her voice ringing across the bottles lining the circular room. Arkadius notices the vines which had been draping down from the ceiling have retracted all the way up, whilst many of the flowers on their side of the tree have closed.

There’s a moment of weighted silence.

“I…” Merla takes a breath and tries again. “My apologies, Arkadius.” She looks to the tree and says in Sylvan, “I ask your forgiveness, Eyteliana, I should not have spoken so.”

Ever so slowly the vines come sneaking down again whilst the flowers tentatively re-bloom. Merla looks away from her friend, the profile of her face all sharp fey-lines.

“There is no getting them back and I will not bargain with her to do so. She has taken what she wanted from me and mine. I will not give her any more than She is due.”

Arkadius reaches his right hand out for one of Merla’s. “I apologise too, and your apology is not necessary to me. You know me… I don’t give up, not easily. Though it sounds like in this situation, there is not much else we can do. You speak true, She should not take more than what is due, and if She tries…” Arkdius shrugs before continuing, “We stormed Shadowfell before. We stormed Avernus too. We can plan something.”

He takes a final swig from the glass in his left hand. “Though I would never think to speak for you. I may have left, but I am back now and I still hold you in the highest possible regard, Sheryl or Merla. And I will respect whatever your wishes may be, and I will be here to support you. I… will even go so far as to give you my word that I will be here, by your side and Kruxeral’s. For as long as you need or want me.”

She gives the hand on hers a small squeeze, closing her eyes and nodding her thanks. When she looks back at Arkadius, he sees the tempest that was behind her eyes has dissipated.

“I am very glad to have you back Arky. Honestly and truly,” Merla says with heartfelt sincerity. “I have missed you.” There’s a little squeak. “And you too Ida,” she adds with a chuckle. “You may be impatient to get back to Port Ffirst but could I entice you to stay in Daring a bit longer? You caught me when I was on my way to get some copper thread from Fitzgrove Fashionables for a gift I am working on and-” a little blush creeps across her cheeks, “it may be nice for Kruxeral to meet more of my friends here. Help him get to know me and my life. Again. Plus, it would break up the monotony of always having just me to talk to. I’m sure he would delight in getting to know you Arkadius.”

Arkadius nods at his friend. “I’m not in any particular rush. I would like to catch up with as many of my friends as possible, Taz and Mace and others, you know. The usual motley crew. But I can certainly spend some time here, as you say it will help Kruxeral. And we did get along so well when we met before…” He smiles back at Merla, “A gift, you say? Copper thread? You’ve piqued my interest. Let’s go for a walk to the shop, and you can tell me more.”

Merla smiles. “I’m working on a Singing Tapestry. A bit of a more complex magical mundane item but something unique. I got the idea when I was doing a job for one Lady Josephine of the Tower of Promise…”

Together, the two stand up, Arkadius nodding to the tree above them, and leaving payment on the table with an extra twenty gold as a tip. As they walk out, Merla launches into the story of a cat who wished to join the Witching Court but needed the help of the Dawnlanders to do so, vines reach down to clear the table, gathering the gold left behind.