Never one to shy from theatrics, Storm was nonetheless annoyed with the commotion his little stunt had created. People flooded into the area by the front gate rapidly, lemmings marching towards potential slaughter. It brought a crooked grin to his face, considering how these fantastically vulnerable fools so readily raced to behold the spectacular capabilities which so easily could be their undoing. There were whispers he’d heard about a dragon recently around these parts; how many of these two-bit townies ran into its mouth to get a good look at the fire?

A town full of the fake tough and stupid brave. They march up without hesitation, but lower their eyes to avoid my gaze. What they don’t know makes them brave; the little that is understood showcases their cowardice.

One woman, a kid as his own years would perceive, had to be special. She had the look of it; she came up boldly through the crowd, introduced herself without quiver in her voice, and looked him directly in the eye as she spoke her name. The un-gifted humans never had balls like that. She wasn’t tall, but didn’t look frail, either; her frame reminded him of the beautiful mage that he had fallen for so long ago. This girl looked almost inhuman with her muscular and skeletal density, but the red hair and brilliant emerald eyes were an echo of Karuka.

Then she dropped to a knee, an act of subservience that broke his flickering memory like a dropped glass. Both flattered and annoyed, the wizard snapped a response that was an attempt at courtesy and correction.

“Get up! A General of the Brotherhood kneels for none!” He reached to his bag and withdrew a large leather water bottle, fervently twisting the cap free and enjoying a quick pull of the hot, sweet mead. The notes of honey soothed his throat, which stung in the cold air. He smiled and extended the pouch, but the girl resisted. Perhaps a moment of sound judgment on her behalf.

“Call me Storm, and save the formalities for Shinsou. It’s odd to hear of an apprentice making general, but I’ll have you at your word.” He rubbed at his chin, feeling the thick whiskers that had been borne of his recent trials. It was uncharacteristic for the electromancer to ride into… well… anywhere looking this haggard, but if his suspicion was correct, he rode in with a singular purpose, and it was entirely apolitical.

We’re going to kill that bald motherfucker.

He breathed deeply through his nose as he considered his words, impressed with the girl who chose not to fill the air with senseless babble. She had asked his purpose, respectfully waiting out his response.

“Your brooding mentor sent me a note, asking for help. Since he asks for help about as much as I ask for torches, I’ve got a pretty good idea of what he’s really asking for.”

The powerful looking kid who called herself Felicity tried not to look confused at this, and her failure was respectable. The older traveler smiled more earnestly at this, clapping his horse about the neck as Attila brayed in satisfaction. Storm could feel the wrinkles about his eyes and forehead form deeper as he took some mild amusement at the confusion, still impressed with the young woman’s focus.

“You aren’t meant to read my mind, relax. Bear in mind that when I was your age, you were a twinkle in your mom’s eye and I was half as smart as these fence-posts. If you’re not going to drink, just take me to Shinsou; I suspect we have quite a bit to discuss.”

The presence of doubt was warranted in Whitevale; for all his smiles and charm Veritas still kept his eyes darting about his perimeter. His quick checks were guised as the smiles of a politician greeting his people, but in reality crowded places were disquieting. It was a gathered crowd that gave the would-be assassin cover to shoot his best friend from a distance. It was a gathered crowd that slowed Storm’s pursuit of Arius Mephisto, allowing the menace to escape.

Read me, kid. Get me the fuck out of here and let’s see the man in black.

Mercifully, the young general was instinctive. It was mere minutes before Attila was led to a stable to be watered and fed, and Storm followed carefully into the large, stone administrative building, where whale oil lanterns cast a pleasant orange glow over the inside of the building. His thoughts raced in memories of the place as he approached the thick wooden door that led to the Mayor’s Chambers, dense oak that once held his own office space. It was strange to be a stranger again.

There were multiple voices behind the door, and the wizard’s tension was at last released when he heard the familiar chatter of an old friend.