The Six-Month Rule

Co-written with Velania Kalugina 🖤🤍

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(Taking in between Hike-and-Seek and All This And Heaven Too.)

With a timing that is impeccable as always, Lord Jaezred catches Velania just as she is exiting the temple, and he offers her an arm in an invitation to join him on a leisurely evening walk.

Velania is wearing a long, navy-blue woollen coat, with a pale, thick-woven scarf, decorated with silver stars and moons that occasionally catch the light and sparkle. In the cold autumn air, her nose and cheeks have turned from the usual metallic hue to a rosy pink. Jaezred is dressed in a dark blue overcoat with a matching top hat a white spider silk scarf draped around his shoulders, and is sporting a faint stubble — apparently trying to grow a bit of scruff for the winter.

She asks Lord Jaezred about his day, making small talk as the city gently passes them by. He obliges her with the pleasant chit-chat, but when they step into Daring Cemetery under the twilight-coloured sky, he turns his attention to business.

“I heard another group went to Galavir again a couple days ago. Do you know anything about that? I’ve been wondering if there has been more light shed on the mysteries over there.”

Velania casts a satisfied gaze across the flush of colours blooming in the approaching night sky. “Yes, I was among them. We went to check in on Ethelex. I’m pleased to say she’s looking even healthier now. Her wings are almost fully healed, more colours, more memories.” She adds jovially, “She’s even got better at hide-and-seek.”

“How whimsical. But did she not say anything more of ‘the hunger’?”

“Not specifically, only that she still felt unable to leave the area. Something that might interest you, though — I noticed you were somewhat curious about the cairns. Well, we did not gain further insight into how they work, but we did help collect stones for Ethelex to build another one of them.”

“I see…” he says thoughtfully. “Well, those cairns would not protect against Tim in any case, should he decide to pass Galavir on the way to New Hillborrow or Daring Heights. Either way, I still don’t think his sphere of annihilation is what Ethelex had in mind.”

“I share your concern about him. Galavir seems to be quite resourceful in keeping out of the way of hostilities. Perhaps by remaining somewhat remote — both geographically and politically.”

“I agree. However, I doubt the Six-Month Rule cares about that…”

The two of them are all too familiar with the dreaded Six-Month Rule. The theory (for it has surpassed the hypothetical stage at this point) that once every 6 months, some great event — typically a calamity of some kind, but not always — happens in Kantas or, if it’s not physically in Kantas, involves Dawnlanders in some significant capacity. Six months before the gith invasion, there was Jack and Langston’s botched attempt at apotheosis, and another 6 months preceding that was the Fey Ascension, which only happened because Queen Sarastra was assassinated in Fort Ettin half a year prior, and so on… And now, at present, it has almost been 6 months since the Battle of Fort Ettin.

“True.” Velania laughs ruefully. “Let me know if there’s anything I can help with, Lord Jaezred. I can tell you feel personally invested by what he’s up to. I hadn’t heard anything recently but I suppose I can remind the congregation to remain wary.”

“All signs point to Tim being our regularly-scheduled calamity this winter, but focusing on one threat makes us vulnerable to a possible different threat blindsiding us. I’m trying to keep an open mind — and open ears. If you hear anything of note, I’d be grateful if you would tell me, priestess…”

“I’d be glad to.”

Jaezred nods to her in gratitude. “It is such a strange bloody phenomenon. Six months, without fail, like clockwork.”

“It’s almost like the gods have a divine plan for us after all…” She grins impishly. “…whatever the naysayers believe about them.”

He returns her grin with a cheeky smirk of his own. “And what, pray tell, are the gods’ plans for me, O venerable priestess?”

“Ah, but if only I excelled at divination, like so many of my sisters in faith. Or perhaps Selûne already told me, and I don’t want to spoil the surprise…”

“If you require divination lessons, you need only ask. I shall be most glad to give you private lessons.” He winks. “Only for you.”

She purses her lips in a slightly impatient grin. “It’s interesting… I have studied the incantations, I know them as well as any other magics. I have tested them out on low-stakes questions. I just don’t feel that expression of power calling to me in the same way that I’m drawn to help others navigate difficult life experiences. Feelings, Lord Jaezred. Dreaded feelings.”

He reels away dramatically from her. “Noooo! My one weakness!” he cries out, acting like a vampire burning in sunlight, though a tell-tale smile tugs at the edge of his lips.

As darkness envelops the cemetery hills and the pale moon is alone in the sky at last, the odd pair step into the section of the graveyard called Adventurers’ Rest. The place where many of their colleagues are laid in eternal slumber. Some of the names etched on the headstones — several of which still feel new — are eerily familiar to them both. Faust, Oriloki, Anketh, Iorveth…

When they enter the cemetery, Velania’s whimsical manner stills and she becomes solemn. She turns her head to each familiar name as they walk, but understanding that Jaezred is walking with intention, she keeps pace with him.

“Six months. Always. Like clockwork,” he mutters.

Jaezred leads her to one grave, smaller than all the rest. The words carved into the grey stone reads:

known to his friends as

He procures from his coat a small cloth pouch, opens it, and empties its contents into the dirt. Bits of dry fish. He glances over at Velania watching him leave the offering.

“Cat saved my life once,” he says with a shrug.

She nods, and then reaches up to her neck and undoes the tie holding her hair back in a ponytail. She removes a silvery-grey ribbon and holds it up, almost dangling it enticingly, before curling it up and laying it on the earth.

“Despite himself, he couldn’t resist playing with it.” She steps back and stands silently next to him.

He chuckles and nods. “Despite his best efforts, he could never resist the calls of nature.”

The two of them stand in quiet remembrance for several moments, as the chirping of crickets grows louder around them.

Then Jaezred clears his throat softly. “About that time in Galavir…”

“Yes?” She quirks an eyebrow and looks up at the moon, watching over the two of them on their evening vigil.

“I grew up in a difficult place. Where distrust is taught from a very young age and rewarded. It’s an instinct that’s saved my hide many times. But up here, I’ve learnt that things are…different. It’s put a strain on some of my relationships, and I don’t wish to repeat that. Still, it’s a hard habit to break…” The look on his face is a mix of fluster and uncharacteristic sheepiness, and he shies his gaze away from her. “Just know that I’m not trying to shut you out. I just need a bit of time.”

The priestess studies Jaezred with cool, green eyes, and as he speaks, a gentle stillness eases over her face, the likes of which he has not seen before. “What little I know of drow culture is… well, let us not go into it. But I can imagine how perilous it would have been for you to ever show a shred of weakness, and how necessary to trust no-one. The Feywild, too, requires you to be so careful what you give of yourself to strangers. But then, existing here in the Dawnlands requires trusting strangers… openness… leaps of faith…”

She smiles at him with a look somewhere between empathy and pride. “Yet even by telling me what you just did… you are admitting to a large amount of vulnerability. I know I tease you about having emotions, but I hope you know that does not come from a place of judgement. Thank you, Lord Jaezred, for that leap of faith.”

Jaezred’s cheeks flush a deep red — so strong is the colour that it cannot possibly have been from the cold. He pulls his hat down in a vain attempt to hide it. “W-well! It’s getting cold out here! I’m going to the café up there. You can join me, i-if you like,” he stutters, offering his arm to her yet refusing to meet her eyes.

“I would love to. A hot, spiced cocoa sounds perfect right now.” She takes his arm and turns to leave. “Thank you for bringing me here. Remembering people is very important to me.”

“This is my usual route for evening walks. It’s nice here during twilight. Though I’ve been told it’s a rather morbid habit.”

Velania casts an awed gaze up at the deepening hues of the early evening sky. “It’s beautiful here. And not at all morbid — not to me, at least. None of us will be here forever. Let’s be glad for the time we did get with people who can’t be here any more…”

He simply nods to that. He places a hand on top of her hand that is holding his arm and leads them out of Adventurers’ Rest, up the hill to enjoy a sweet, warm beverage at Cannonfodder Café.