Hector almost couldn't believe it when he finally, truly, actually made it back to Warrenhold in one piece. The journey had taken several more hours, of course, but there was no further interruptions or delays, which he considered a miracle enough on its own.
He ended up waiting to have Voreese revive Roman, however. The heat of the Undercrust would have made the regeneration more difficult and caused Roman needless extra pain later, so Hector didn't get a chance to catch up with Roman just yet.
Even after he made it back, there wasn't much opportunity for pleasantries. Now that everyone was safe--for the time being, at least--all Hector really wanted to do was sleep. And he wasn't the only one, either. The exhaustion among the Rainlords was plain as day. He supposed being held captive as brains for the past few days hadn't qualified as proper rest.
As he dragged himself toward the Tower of Night, to the master bedroom therein, he couldn't help thinking about all of the things that he would have to take care of after he woke up.
Garovel and Voreese were going to bring the Rainlords up to speed for him, regarding everything that had transpired with Leo, and a part of Hector was glad that he wouldn't be conscious for their reactions. Somehow, he didn't think that they would want to play along with the fiction that Voreese had concocted about him being their new leader.
And of course, he would have to inform the Queen of the situation as well. He had no idea how he was going to explain all of this to her. Harboring a bunch of fugitives from the Vanguard was bad enough, but now he had to tell her about Leo, too? A likely fugitive from Sai-hee?
She probably wasn't going to be very pleased about that.
Still. At least they were here. They'd made it to Warrenhold.
There sure were a lot of people around now, too. Most, if not all, of the non-servant Rainlords were up and about, it seemed. Many of them were staring at him as he passed, and a few even came up to him and tried to strike up a conversation. He tried his best to politely decline, citing exhaustion, and they all seemed to understand.
When he opened the door to his room and saw the bed there, he couldn't imagine a more relieving sight in the entire world.
He knew that he couldn't plop down on the mattress just yet, though. He was still holding Roman's encased head in one arm--the same arm that was also carrying his shield. He hadn't wanted to dematerialize the shield, because if he did, he knew that he wouldn't be able to rematerialize it later. With all the other identical shields currently residing in Warrenhold, the volume limit for the shield's unique materialization had certainly been reached.
Before he could enter the room, however, his mother's voice acquired his attention.
"Hector?" she said, stepping closer.
He hadn't even noticed her there at the end of the hall. Why hadn't Garovel warned him of her presence? Oh, right, he was off talking to the Rainlords, already. Why hadn't the Scarf of Amordiin warned him, then? Oh, it had, Hector realized. He just hadn't been paying attention.
Man, he needed some sleep.
"...Hi, mom." His voice was still ringing with metal, he realized. Because he was still wearing armor.
"What are you--?"
He dematerialized most of his armor so she could see his face.
She recoiled a little.
Oh, right, she hadn't actually seen him use his power all that much, had she?
"Ah, sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you."
She didn't say anything.
And neither did he.
Ugh. Was he supposed to be telling her something? He couldn't remember. He was way too tired for this, right now, but at the same time, just ignoring her seemed like the wrong thing to do.
"...You look like crap," she eventually said.
"Yeah," he said with a sigh, "it's been a long... uh..."
"Month?" she finished.
Holy shit, had it really been that long since he'd last seen her? "Er, yeah," was all he could think to say. He noticed Voreese hovering there next to him. She was still waiting to revive Roman. He supposed he shouldn't keep her waiting.
He entered the room and set Roman's head down on a table by the balcony window. "Ah... h-how have you been?" he decided to ask.
His mother followed him as far as the open doorway. "Fine," was all she said.
"That's... good." He sat down at the table and started trying to chip away at the encasement. Then, thinking better of it, he stopped. It might be more than a little surprising for his mother if she saw that there was a human head inside it.
Shit.
Now he didn't know what do with his hands, so he just kind of sat there awkwardly, looking between her and the window. He knew there was a nice view of the underground courtyard there, but he'd have to go out onto the balcony to see it.
"...Have you eaten anything recently?" his mother asked.
Had he? Why was it so hard to remember all of sudden? "Er, no, I haven't..." Truth be told, he was fucking starving. He was only marginally more exhausted than he was hungry.
"I'll make you something, then. What do you want?"
At that, he genuinely did not know what to say.
She seemed to grow impatient with him. "Do you want something or not?"
"Ah--er, sure. W-whatever's fine. I don't care. I mean, eh, I could eat just about anything..."
"...Okay." And she left.
His brown eyes lingered on the empty doorway.
Hmm.
'She seems... nice,' said Voreese.
Hector just spared the reaper a look and elected not to comment on that. Instead, he returned to his work, trying to free Roman. He supposed he didn't have to be gentle. He could just destroy the brain, and the end result would be the same. It might be faster, too.
Though, it would probably also get brain matter all over the table. And possibly the rest of the room, depending on how violent he tried to get with it.
He decided to try to avoid that type of mess. He didn't think it would be good to spill cerebral juices or whatever in the same place where he wanted to go to sleep.
It was slow going but still not quite as slow as it had been before, and within a few minutes, he managed to free enough of Roman's neck-stump for Voreese to begin the regeneration.
He worked on trying to free the man's face and cranium while Roman's torso began to form.
Voreese seemed to grow anxious while she waited. 'So how do you like it here, by the way? Warrenhold's pretty great, right? I bet you're glad you listened to me now, eh?'
"Yeah, I am," he said with small laugh.
'Heh.'
An iron spike cracked off another black chunk, revealing Roman's mouth. Well, at least he'd be able to breathe now.
'Hector, listen, um...'
He spared another glance as he worked. "What?"
'I know I kinda said this, already... or at least implied it, I'm pretty sure, but, uh... it's just, ah, I really do mean it, you know?'
Hector didn't follow. "Mean what?"
'Oh, c'mon, you know what I'm saying, don't you?'
He just cocked an eyebrow at her.
'Wow, are you really gonna make me repeat myself? It's not very gentlemanly to embarrass a lady like this, you know.'
Now he was just confused. "...Voreese, what the hell are you talking about?"
'Ugh! I'm saying I'm grateful, okay! There! Ya happy, ya little punk?!'
"Oh..." That was all she was trying to say? Shit. He could feel himself starting to blush. "Uh... it's, ah... I mean, you guys've helped me a bunch, too, so it's not really, like, I, er--"
'Hector, what the fuck? Quit that. I can't deal with it. You're gonna give me diabetes.'
"Ah--what?"
'Just shut up and listen, okay? What you did--going back for Roman like that... when, frankly, you probably shouldn't have... It's just. Look, that's a really big deal, okay?'
He didn't know what to say. Roman's torso was almost done, so he started giving the man some armor.
Voreese was apparently unsatisfied by that reaction, however. 'Hector, do you...? Do you actually not understand how big of a deal that was? I could've EASILY ended up separated from Roman for the next twenty years. Or longer, even. If he ended up falling into Sai-hee's hands, then there really would've been no telling when I could've gotten him back.'
Hector scratched his cheek, not really sure what her point was. "I mean... yeah, of course I understand that. That's why I went back for him."
'Then why are you so fucking nonchalant about it, huh? Do you know how ridiculously difficult it's gonna be to repay you for this shit?'
He breathed a laugh. "You don't have to repay me for anything. You guys are... like I was trying to say, you've already done so much. It's not like--"
'Okay, enough of that. We don't need your fucking charity, alright? We will definitely--'
"Charity?" interrupted Hector. He was getting a little pissed off now. "What the hell are you talking about? That wasn't charity. That was just--it was--agh..." What were the right words here, dammit?
'Fine, not charity, whatever. I'm just saying that Roman and I don't like being indebted to people, so--'
"Agh, yeah, and I'm saying you're not indebted to me."
'The fuck're you talking about? Of course we are, you little prick!'
Hector didn't intend to budge on this, though. "No. You're not."
'I don't think you--' But she stopped herself for some reason. Then she tilted her head at him, seemingly more confused than irritated now. 'Why're you being so stubborn about this?'
"Why are you?" he said right back.
'Because I--agh...!' She gave an exasperated groan and pointed a skeletal finger at him. 'Now, you listen here, young man. I am two thousand years old or some shit like that. You don't get to win arguments against me, understand?'
Hector all but threw up his hands. "Now what are you saying?! What is this argument even about?!"
'I don't know, okay?! I just know that you're annoying me with all this backtalk! You're supposed to be this adorable little boy who never argues with me, goddammit!'
Hector just squinted at her.
'The fuck kinda look is that?!' said Voreese. 'Alright, y'know what? I've been thinkin' this for a while now, but I just have to come right out and say it! You are NOT the same Hector that I remember! Are you a body snatcher or something?! What did you do with him, huh?!'
At that, Hector couldn't help laughing a little. Roman was just about finished regenerating, he realized, so Hector completed the man's armor set for him. Roman was already beginning to move again, and Hector helped him onto his feet.
The man's head was still half-encased, so Voreese touched his shoulder, and then Roman was able to yank the rest of it off himself--though not without ripping off some of his face and scalp.
'How ya feelin', dumbass?' said Voreese.
Roman touched the regenerating chunk of his face and eyed the blood on his fingertips. "Numb, thankfully." When he saw Hector there, he smiled ghoulishly. "Well, look who it is."
Hector couldn't help smiling, too. "Finally. Sorry for all the trouble I've caused you."
"Heh. Same here." Roman took the opportunity to stretch his arms and legs, though his iron armor didn't lend itself particularly well to that purpose.
Hector plopped back down in the chair, feeling like he could fall asleep right then and there, if he wanted. It seemed like he'd been wanting to talk to Roman for ages, but now that he actually had the opportunity, he was having trouble thinking of anything to say.
Fortunately, that didn't prove too much of a problem with Voreese there. She brought Roman up to speed. Apparently, he'd been at least semi-conscious for a while now, and Voreese had already been trying to explain things to him privately.
Hector supposed that made sense. Leo's encasing hadn't felt very cold at all, even though Roman's actual head had. Perhaps Leo had frozen Roman's head initially and then given it a normal coating. Perhaps to make it easier to carry? Hector wasn't sure, and he was too tired to give it much more thought.
Roman and Voreese were already shouting at one another for some reason, but it didn't seem like something to be worried about, considering their body language. And considering that it was them.
Pretty soon, Hector just gave up and drifted off.
Agh. It was so nice not to think about anything. Just an ocean of comfortable darkness and nothing at all concerning him.
It was gone all too quickly, however.
'Hector, wake up,' came Garovel's voice.
And Hector did, though not because he wanted to. His eyes still felt heavy. Hell, his whole body did. "Ugh... no..."
'I know you're tired,' said Garovel, 'but it's already been eight hours, and I can't just let you sleep for the next week--not with all the things we need to take care of.'
He rolled over in his bed. "Just... five more... hours..."
'Sorry, buddy.'
Hector felt the reaper's touch against the back of his skull, and instantly, his fatigue was gone. All bodily desire to sleep vanished, though a part of him wanted to stay in bed out of spite.
He sighed and sat up. He knew only too well that putting off his exhaustion like this meant that it was just going to hit him even harder later.
He got out of bed. When had he even gotten into bed, he wondered? Last thing he remembered was falling asleep in the chair by the table.
He noticed a bowl and a glass on the table now.
Shit.
He walked over to it. Some type of soup. Ice cold now and possibly no longer safe to eat. The drink, on the other hand, was lukewarm tea.
Hmm.
He materialized a red hot ball of iron into the soup and a freezing one into the tea.
'Are you really gonna eat that?' said Garovel, observing from over his shoulder. 'Just throw it out. Go downstairs and get something fresh from the kitchen.'
"It's alright," said Hector. "I'll do that, too. I'm hungry enough."
'If you say so.'
He turned to Garovel while he waited. "So what should we deal with first?"
'You need to meet with Madame Carthrace.'
"Oh, yeah. I haven't seen her at all yet. How's she doing?"
'She seems to be handling things fairly well, considering two days ago, she only had to worry about a handful of people. Now she's suddenly got hundreds in need of accommodations. I heard her mention that she didn't want to disturb you while you were resting, but I imagine she must be quite eager to have a conversation with you by now.'
"Ah... right." He decided to just blurt out one of the questions that he'd been dreading. "Do we even have enough money to take care of everyone here?"
'For a little while, sure,' said Garovel. 'Combined with the cost of renovations, we could probably last a few months just on what we have. Before we go completely bankrupt, that is.'
Hector sighed and sat down to eat. "That's... not very encouraging."
'Wasn't supposed to be. Madame Carthrace would probably have a more accurate estimate for you, but I think it's safe to say that if we don't come up with a reliable source of income soon, we are gonna have some big problems on our hands.'
"Agh, and with this... economic crisis or whatever going on..." The soup didn't have much flavor, but he liked how chunky it was. He'd definitely have to get more to eat after this, though.
'Yeah. Making money might prove somewhat challenging at the moment, but on the bright side, we've got plenty of rich allies who are probably willing to help us out.'
That piqued Hector's curiosity. "Do the Rainlords still have access to their money, by the way?"
'Yes and no. I was wondering the same thing, so I asked the various head reapers about it, and apparently, many of the Rainlords have had their assets completely frozen, but there's also a pretty strong contingent of them who were prepared for this sort of thing.'
"For fleeing their own country as fugitives?"
'Yep. They say they've got hidden funds stored in banks all over the world. Some even have actual secret store houses that they plan on making a trip to at their first opportunity. It's obviously not as much money as they normally have access to, but they're still far from broke.'
"Huh... I'm a little surprised that the Vanguard is able to freeze any of their assets at all."
'My understanding is that the Vanguard isn't doing it directly. Rather, they're applying pressure in the government of western Sair--which, by all accounts, is in total fucking chaos, by the way.'
Hector bobbed his head at that news. "I can imagine... The Rainlords made up, uh, most of the leadership there, didn't they?"
'They sure did. Now they're all missing, and their civilian subjects are left feeling scared and unprotected.'
"Geez..."
'From what I've heard and been seeing on television, it looks like the Sandlords are intervening in the Rainlords' territory now.'
Hector stopped eating for a moment to look at Garovel. "Seriously?"
'Yep.'
"But isn't that, like... overreach or something?"
'Quite possibly. The Rainlords don't seem too pleased about it, but they also seem to understand that it's a difficult situation, and the Sandlords probably shouldn't just sit back and watch half of their own country fall into disorder and lawlessness.'
"Hmm." Hector returned to his meal and discovered that he was already almost finished with it.
'It's a difficult situation for everyone, but the Sandlords deciding to take action here is pretty damn justified, I'd say. What that means for Sair's future, though--that's another matter. I'm sure the Rainlords aren't loving the thought of their thousand-year-old rivals taking over their territory permanently.'
"Yeah..."
'But hey! With their new Lord Darksteel taking them under his protection, maybe the Rainlords are only thinking about how bright their future is!'
Hector groaned. "Why'd you have to remind me about that shit...?"
The reaper chortled. 'What, you don't like being the new leader of the Rainlords?'
Hector just groaned again.
'Voreese and I did tell them about that, by the way. Or we STARTED to tell them, at least. Word seems to be getting around pretty well on its own now.'
Hector groaned again, even louder this time. "How are they reacting to it?"
'Hard to say. Mainly they just seemed confused. Though, I think some of them are under the impression that it's a conspiracy.'
"Wha? A conspiracy?"
'As in, they think that it might actually be true--that it's not just a ruse to fool Leo and that you might genuinely be their new de facto leader.'
Hector stared at Garovel, trying to discern something--anything--from the reaper's skeletal expression. "Tell me you're lying, Garovel."
'Sorry, buddy. I'm not.'
He buried his face in his hands. "Argh..."
'Hey, on the plus side, some of those conspiracy believers seemed... fairly receptive to the idea.'
Hector didn't remove his face from his hands.
'Admittedly, though, some others seemed a bit less so... Anyway, we won't know what the Rainlords are really thinking about everything until the heads have another meeting. They're mostly just trying to let everyone get some rest, still.'
That last part, Hector was actually glad to hear. After everything those people had been through, they definitely deserved a break.
He slurped up the rest of his soup, chugged the rest of his tea, and then hopped in the shower. The master bathroom was certainly spacious, though a bit odd. The whole thing was made out of the pitch black nightrock, just like the rest of the Tower of Night, but certain keys pieces of it were very recently added, such as the porcelain toilet and sinks, the steel faucets, and the big, glassy shower.
It was strange to imagine how long ago this bathroom must have been built. Due to those few additions, it looked fairly modern, apart from perhaps the bathtub, which was embedded in the floor and could've doubled as a small pool.
'Is there any other news about the Sandlords?' said Hector as he scrubbed his back. He quite appreciated the scent of soap. It was a welcome change from all the awful stenches that he was getting used to smelling. 'Like, er, how they're dealing with the Vanguard or whatever?'
'No,' said Garovel from the other room, 'but it's a safe bet that the Vanguard is working closely with them, regardless. Lamont had just arrived in Sair when we left, and that guy doesn't have a reputation for leaving things half done. With the Salesman's frozen head in the Sandlords' possession, I'm sure the Vanguard will be wanting to keep a very close eye on everything that's going on in Sair, right now.'
'Hmm. Do you think the Vanguard is pressuring the Sandlords into taking over the Rainlords' territory?'
'It's possible, but I'm not sure how much extra motivation the Sandlords would need. I mean, they're already gaining land while simultaneously preventing a humanitarian crisis. It's kind of a win-win, y'know? On paper, at least. Who the hell knows how it'll all shake out in the long-term?'
That was a good question, Hector thought. He didn't imagine that the Rainlords would be content to stay here in Atreya forever. Eventually, they would want to go take their home back, and if the Sandlords didn't want to give it up, then how were they going to avoid bloodshed?
'There's also some other other big news,' said Garovel. 'Big and significantly worse news, that is.'
'Great. What is it?'
'Well, it's not relevant to us at all, but it's pretty awful just the same.'
'Tell me.'
'Remember the civil war going on in Kavia?'
'Uh... kinda?'
'It's over now--which, I guess is good--but the problem is, the side that won was supported by Abolish.'
'Oh. The Vanguard lost there?'
'Yeah. A few of their rising stars were killed, apparently. None of the marshals, at least, but it's still a pretty big defeat.'
'Hmm. Who's the, uh... I mean, who from Abolish is the victory being, er, attributed to?'
'That would be Jercash, the Devil's Knife.'
'Ugh. What a nice nickname...'
'It wasn't just him, though. There's also word going around of someone else from Abolish who made a big impact there. Someone new. Someone who's now being called the Bolt of Kavia.'
That made Hector pause. 'Bolt? As in... lightning bolt?'
'Dunno. Details are scarce. I thought it was interesting, though.'
'...You really think Karkash is making a name for himself out there?'
'Wouldn't surprise me,' said Garovel. 'Power like that is pretty damn versatile. Not to mention deadly. And we witnessed him achieve emergence, you may recall.'
'You think he might've achieved it again since then?' said Hector.
'It's definitely possible,' said Garovel. 'You're not the only one in the world going through crazy shit, you know. And you're definitely not the only one growing, either.'
Hector certainly knew that. He eyed the Scarf of Amordiin that he'd set on the counter by the shower. 'He could've gotten his hands on some kind of magical artifact.'
'Yeah. Or hell, he could've met a "god," too, and received a blessing.'
'Agh, don't even joke about that...'
'What, you don't like the idea of other "gods" existing out there in the world?'
'Not really, no.'
'Heh. Can't say I'm in love with the idea, either. But weren't you giving me shit about not wanting gods to exist?'
'Yeah, that was before we met Malast,' said Hector.
'You're afraid the other gods might be like him?'
'I don't know. I mean, it's not like he was the worst god ever 'r anything, but shit...'
'Well, okay, I don't think you'll have to worry about gods being all that prevalent in the world. If they were, then I definitely would've heard about them a long time ago.'
'Hmm...'
'It makes sense that I wouldn't know about Malast being real, since his whole deal is apparently just sitting there and doing jack shit all day long, but if the others were real? They would've been having a pretty damn big impact on the world.'
'Yeah, but isn't that because the Void "rended" them from existence or whatever?'
'Supposedly.'
'That's what Malast said, isn't it? You think he was lying?'
'I honestly have no fucking clue. A part of me would like to pretend half of that shit we went through in Himmekel never even happened.'
'It's not good to ignore reality, Garovel.'
'Oh, shut up,' the reaper laughed. 'I'm not ignoring anything. I'm just expressing my displeasure, okay? I'm still allowed to do that, aren't I?'
'As if anything could stop you.'
Hector finished up his shower, wrapped himself in a towel, and then went to the dresser by his bed in order to pick out some clothes. There were more garments inside it than he remembered there being, and he found himself faced with a harder decision in choosing what to wear than he expected.
He'd never been much for fashion, but he supposed walking around Warrenhold in full iron armor wouldn't be a good idea. He deferred to Garovel's judgment and went with black trousers and a black waistcoat over a silky gray-and-white undershirt. There were a few ties there as well, and Garovel even tried to show him how to tie one, but after a while of fiddling with it, he grew frustrated and gave up.
'You'll probably wanna figure that out sooner or later,' said Garovel.
'Later's fine with me,' said Hector as he pulled on brown work boots and began tying them.
'I'm not sure those go with the rest of your outfit,' said Garovel.
He stopped. 'Wha? You told me to wear all this shit.'
'Yeah, but I didn't know you were gonna choose work boots. And brown? There are some wingtips in your closet, I think. Try those.'
Hector didn't want to stand up yet. 'What's a wingtip?'
'It's a--look, just go to the closet and I'll point 'em out, okay?'
Reluctantly, Hector did as he was bid. In the end, he preferred the work boots. They were more comfortable, perhaps because they were already broken in.
'Yeah, see, isn't that better?' said Garovel as Hector was grabbing the Scarf of Amordiin and wrapping it around his neck. 'Now you're starting to look a little more lordly. You sure do like the color black, don't you?'
Hector finally left the room. 'Again, you told me to wear all this.'
'You're kinda blending into the nightrock now. Maybe you should go back and change.'
'Go fuck yourself.'
Garovel chortled. 'That foul mouth isn't very becoming of a lord, you know.'
'You swear just as much as I do. If not more.'
'Hmm, are you saying you want to be like me?'
Hector stopped at the top of the stairs and gave the reaper a look. 'Okay, good point.'
Garovel just laughed as they descended together. The kitchen was on the bottom floor, and all the floors along the way were filled with Rainlords, many of whom were sleeping. It seemed like all the heads of the Houses and their immediate families were here in the Tower of Night with him.
Strange. Maybe he'd just been too tired to notice, but he was pretty sure that they hadn't been here before he'd gone to sleep.
He gained considerable attention as he made his way down the tower. Many of the non-servants decided to come greet and subsequently join him. By the time he made it down to the fourth floor, he'd acquired an entourage that was at least a dozen strong, mostly consisting of people his own age or younger.
They weren't shy with their questions, either.
"Lord Darksteel, ensir, could you show us some of your moves?"
"What was the Salesman like? Was he scary?"
"I heard he was super yellow."
"What?"
"Hey, could you make Seth's head explode?"
"Don't ask him that! I like my head!"
"Lord Darksteel, ensir, is it true that you made everyone bend the knee?"
"Did you really meet a god?"
"Lord Darksteel, ensir, how long have you been a servant for?"
Hector wanted to just run away, but he was still hungry. 'Garovel, please help...'
'Ask them if they need something to do.'
'What?'
'Tell them there's plenty of work around here that needs tending to, and since they've apparently got all this time to spare, it would be useful if they pitched in.'
'Seems a little rude, Garovel...'
'Yeah, they're being rude, too. And we DO have a shitload of work that needs taking care of.'
'They're kids,' said Hector. 'I can't just put them to work like employees or whatever. That's probably against the law or something, isn't it?'
'Bah. If you ask me, child labor laws are mostly a pile of nonsense. Sure, kids need freedom to grow up, but actually growing up means having discipline and a sense of responsibility, and what better place to get those things than at a job, huh?'
'Garovel...'
'Alright, fine, here's something else you can do.'
Hector listened, and by the time they reached the bottom floor, he had a plan. He stopped and turned around to face everyone, and they all stopped as well, going abruptly silent.
Oh geez. That was a lot of eyes staring at him.
"...I'd like to answer your questions," said Hector, "but I can't when you ask them all at once like that. So instead, what we'll do is--"
"Hey, I was here first, so--" tried a short kid with a bowl cut.
"No, you weren't!" said a stocky boy with glasses.
"Yeah, I was first!" said a young girl with long bangs.
"What?! No, I--!"
"Quiet," came a stern and familiar voice from behind Hector. It belonged to the Lord Dimas Sebolt, approaching with his reaper Iziol. "You are being rude."
That seemed to silence them all again. The way the man towered over everyone had a commanding effect, Hector thought.
Dimas looked to Hector, as if prompting him to continue.
With all eyes on him again, Hector tried to keep his composure. Momentarily, he wondered if he would ever stop feeling so uncomfortable in front of groups of people like this. "...We'll make a game of it," he said slowly. He held his hand out, palm up, and shut his eyes while he gathered his concentration. He focused on what the Scarf was telling him of Warrenhold, of its layout.
Whoa.
The Scarf wasn't enough to reveal all eight of the castle's towers to him in their entirety, but he could sense most of the Tower of Night and much of its surroundings as well, including parts of the Bell Tower and the Entry Tower.
It was so much information. The Tower of Night alone had such a complex structure to it that he probably could've lost himself in trying to examine every little nook and cranny that he could find, and if he wasn't standing in front of a bunch of people who were waiting on his next words, he might've done exactly that.
Instead, though, he picked an empty table in one of the middle floors of the Entry Tower and concentrated on it. He wanted to materialize something there. But what? Something benign. He didn't want to give the kids anything dangerous to look for.
A little figurine, he decided. An armored knight. Seemed appropriate.
He materialized a second one in the palm of his hand, making it identical to the first--or at least, as close to identical as he could get it.
Hector opened his eyes again, and everyone was staring at the figurine now. "There," he said. "I've just placed a knight that looks like this somewhere in Warrenhold. The first one who brings it back to me... I'll answer your question."
His audience remained entirely silent and started looking at one another.
Uh-oh. Had he upset them? "...Does that sound good?" said Hector, trying not to sound as uncertain as he felt.
The kid with the bowl cut darted past Hector and out the front door of the tower. Within seconds, everyone else was running after him, and the clamor of stomping feet filled the air. Only Dimas and Iziol remained behind, watching the mayhem unfold.
Hector scratched his cheek as the last of them scrambled out the door. He'd been intending to give them a hint, thinking that it might be unfair if they thought they had to search every room--and maybe a little obnoxious for everyone who was still trying to rest.
"...I didn't think they would all just shoot off like that," said Hector.
'Rainlord youth can be a terrifying thing,' said Iziol with a sigh. 'I suppose I will go keep an eye on them.' And he phased through the wall leading out into Warrenhold's main cavern.
"...Maybe we should've put more thought into this," said Hector.
'Eh, I'm sure it'll be fine,' said Garovel. 'This place could do with a bit of livening up.'
Hector just gave the reaper a dubious look.
'Don't you remember what that pediatrician told us about child development?' said Garovel. 'Kids need engagement. They need to have their minds stimulated, and games are a great way to achieve that.'
"...Wasn't he talking about toddlers?" said Hector.
'Yeah, but I'd argue that the basic principle holds true for young people, too. Hell, if you think about it, it even holds true for adults. It's really just the sophistication of the game that changes. It's the instinct that pushes us to grow. We always want something that we find challenging, right? But not SO challenging that it makes us feel discouraged and incompetent.'
That was a little more psychological than Hector cared to think about, right now. He really just wanted something to eat. "If you say so..."
'C'mon, I'm right, aren't I? Back me up here, Dimas.'
The Lord Sebolt was just standing there, observing. He looked a bit more rested than the last time Hector had seen him, but that wasn't saying a whole lot. He was cleanly shaven with combed hair and a fresh suit, but he still had bags under his eyes.
Perhaps that wasn't so strange, though. Hector seemed to recall the man mentioning something about being an insomniac.
"...I am afraid I do not know much about children," said Dimas. "I have never been very good with them, myself."
'Well, I'm not talking about just kids,' said Garovel. 'And hey, is that really true? Marcos Elroy sure seems to like you.'
The reaper certainly had a point there, Hector felt.
"...You may be right," said Dimas, "but I would not call him a good example of my rapport with children. Marcos is... a strange boy."
'Whatever,' said Garovel. 'My point still stands. Young people need things to keep them busy. All the better if it involves physical activity. I have little doubt in my mind that they will go absolutely stir crazy in this place if we don't find things for them to do. Their parents have taken all their phones away from them, you know.'
That was news to Hector. "They have?"
'Oh yeah. Can't have the kids accidentally giving away their location. The Vanguard has quite a strong online presence, apparently.'
Suddenly, Hector felt significantly more sympathy for those children.
"They will adapt," said Dimas. "They might even be better off."
'Amen to that,' said Garovel.
Hector wasn't so sure he agreed. That might've been the age difference here rearing its head, though. As his hunger compelled him toward the kitchen again, he found himself wanting to ask Dimas about something else. "By the way, uh, h-how are the Elroys doing? Do you know? I just woke up, so I haven't seen them yet."
Dimas followed. "Considering the circumstances, I would say they are doing well, if a bit restless."
"Restless?" said Hector, frowning a little. "They just got here. Can't they just take it easy for a while?"
"They are trying," said Dimas. "As are we all."
There was a square-faced man and a bespectacled woman in the kitchen, apparently in the middle of cooking something. They were both non-servants, Hector was fairly sure, though he was struggling to put names to their faces.
When they noticed Hector and Dimas there, they each stopped to wipe their hands on their aprons.
"Lords," said the man with a nod. "Are you hungry? Can we prepare something for you?"
"Ah--we hope you don't mind our imposition," said the woman, sounding somewhat nervous.
"The Lady Carthrace gave us permission to use the facilities here," said the man hastily. "And not just us. There are probably three or four cooks from every family she granted access to, so I hope--" He kept talking, but Garovel's private words echoed over him in Hector's head.
'Ask them their names. And shake their hands.'
Ah. Hector appreciated the instructions, honestly. "...What are your names?" he said, extending a hand.
"Oh." The man took the hand and shook it. "I am Lluis Delaguna, and this lovely creature is my wife, Margot."
"We cannot thank you enough for all you are doing for us," said Margot.
Hector was a bit reluctant to shake the woman's hand, but he didn't let it show, figuring it would only lead to a misunderstanding. "It's... a pleasure to meet you both," he said.
They were a middle-aged couple, by the look of them, and judging from all the stains on their aprons, they must have been at this for a while now.
"So what would you like?" said Lluis.
"Ah--are you sure you don't need a break?" said Hector. "I'd rather you rest, if you're tired."
"Oh, nonsense," said Margot. "It would be our honor to cook for you."
"Do you have any calamari?" said Dimas.
At that, the pair hesitated. "Er--no, I'm sorry, Lord Dimas," said Lluis.
"Mm," said Dimas. "Lobster?"
"I'm afraid there isn't any seafood in stock at the moment," said Lluis.
"I thought a new food shipment arrived a few hours ago," said Dimas.
"It did, lord, but there was no seafood in it," said Lluis.
And Dimas' normally expressionless face let slip a frown. "What do you have in stock, then?"
"Bread, beef, and cheese, mainly," said Margot. "We could whip up some fantastic burgers for you, if you like."
"That sounds great," said Hector. "Make mine a double, please."
The married couple smiled. "As you wish, lord," said Lluis.
When they looked at Dimas, however, their mirth diminished somewhat. The man's face was far from enthusiastic.
"Would you like something else, Lord Dimas?" said Lluis.
Dimas waited a moment, glancing between them and Hector briefly. "...No, that sounds fine," he said, though it sounded rather like a sigh.
"V-very well," said Lluis, and the couple ventured off together to the store room on the other side of the kitchen.
Hector and Dimas returned to the dining chamber immediately outside. It wasn't as spacious as the enormous banquet hall that made up the entirety of the second floor, but the two of them didn't have need of such room.
"...Do you not like burgers?" said Hector as they sat down at a long table across from one another.
"...Yes," said Dimas.
Hector's brow lowered. "Yes, you do? Or yes, you don't?"
"...I find them perfectly edible," said Dimas.
Hector almost snorted a laugh. "If you wanted something else, you could've just said so."
"...I did not want you to think I am a picky eater," said Dimas.
"...Are you a picky eater?"
"...No."
'Why did that "no" sound more like a "yes?"' said Garovel.
Dimas didn't say anything and averted his gaze.
"Hey, uh, it's okay," said Hector. "I'm kinda picky, too. I don't really like mushrooms."
Dimas' eyes fell upon him again. "...Only mushrooms?"
"I... er..." It was suddenly difficult to think. "Maybe... oh, I don't like horseradish. That stuff's gross."
"...Anything else?" said Dimas.
"Ah... p-probably. What about you?"
A beat passed, and the Lord Sebolt shook his head. "...It doesn't matter."
Hector stifled a laugh, and for a few long seconds, they just sat there in complete silence.
As was perhaps both expected and appropriate, it was up to the reaper to revive things. 'Welp, uh, anywho... Hector and I could really use your input on a few things, if you wouldn't mind hearing us out.'
Dimas straightened in his seat. "Yes, of course."
'Appreciated.' Garovel broke for a pause. 'Now, okay, I should preface this by saying that you are absolutely welcome to stay here at Warrenhold as long as you need or want. However, I am curious as to what plans you or your family might have going forward.'
Dimas' eyes fell to the table.
Hector waited. This man sitting in front of him was the very recently recognized new head of House Sebolt. No doubt, the tragic losses to his family at Dunehall were even fresher in his mind than they were in Hector's. It was certainly an important question that Garovel had just asked, and Hector wanted to know the answer, but he might've asked the reaper to wait a bit longer before posing it, if he'd known Garovel was going to.
At length, Hector felt compelled to add, "You don't have to answer that right now, if you don't want to. There's no rush."
'Indeed,' said Garovel. 'If anything, we're more worried about you leaving. I can say with confidence that Hector and I would both prefer that you all stay here. Indefinitely, if need be.'
Dimas looked up. "Indefinitely?"
'If need be,' Garovel reiterated.
Dimas took a breath and rubbed his brow. "I know virtually beyond doubt that my kin will wish to locate and free the others from the Vanguard's captivity."
'Yeah, that's what we're worried about,' said Garovel. 'I don't think that's a very good idea--not with everything you've been through recently--with everything we've ALL been through recently.'
Dimas just clenched his jaw and said nothing.
Hector could see the man's dilemma. From everything that Hector had come to learn of the Rainlords, the idea seemed embedded into their very identity that they should take enormous risks for the sake of their blood and loved ones.
Maybe that was historically what kept getting them into trouble, but Hector also got the feeling that that was why they seemed to be so fiercely loyal to one another, too. And that loyalty, by extension, was probably how they had survived all that trouble that they got into.
A double-edged sword, if ever Hector had seen one.
"...I have to agree," said Dimas. "Pursuing our captive brethren now would obviously be a fool's errand. We hardly even know where to begin looking for them. Korgum, perhaps, considering that is where the Gargoyle is most likely stationed, but that is not enough information on which to base a rescue attempt."
'I'm glad to hear you say that,' said Garovel. 'Personally, I think you and your people need time--and perhaps a lot of it.'
"...You may be right," said Dimas. "But I worry what will happen if and when a supposed 'opportunity' appears before us. I fear that the others will jump at any chance as soon as they see it."
'So don't let them,' said Garovel.
Hector gave the reaper a look. That was a stronger stance to take than Hector had been expecting.
He couldn't say he disagreed, though.
'You're the presiding Lord of House Sebolt now,' Garovel went on. 'Your opinion will have considerable weight behind it.'
"Sitting on our thumbs and abusing your hospitality is hardly an admirable counterposition," said Dimas.
'Well, I'm sure we can come up with something a bit more appealing than that,' said Garovel. 'And you certainly wouldn't be abusing our hospitality while you help us restore Warrenhold--as you have already begun doing, that is. You see, Hector and I have big plans for this castle. We would like it to eventually become one of the safest places on the planet.'
Dimas merely returned a rigid expression.
'Perhaps you think that sounds a bit overly optimistic,' said Garovel, 'but I don't believe it is. Not after that trip through the Undercrust we just took.'
"...What do you mean?" said Dimas.
The reaper glanced at Hector. 'Well, I don't want to get ahead of myself here, but obviously, this group of ours, formidable though it may be, still lacks the power it requires to achieve its ultimate objectives. I simply think that, together, we may be able to discover a good path forward, one which would benefit us all. Beyond that, though, I'm not yet prepared to say.'
Dimas made no response.
Hector wanted to ask Garovel something, though he wasn't quite sure what. It sounded like the reaper already had some sort of plan, but if that was the case, then why not just say so right now? Dimas was obviously trustworthy, Hector felt.
Hmm.
Soon, their food arrived, and Hector hardly even tasted it as he wolfed it down. Dimas was noticeably more reserved and even seemed to be reluctant to continue eating it. Hector didn't give him any crap about it, but Garovel did.
After that, it was finally time to go meet Amelia Carthrace. Garovel offered Dimas the opportunity to join them, but the Lord Sebolt politely declined, saying that he should get back to his family. They said their goodbyes and parted ways.
Along the way to the Book Tower, in the middle of the rocky courtyard in the main cavern, the group of children from earlier ran up to him, and one of them presented the knight figurine to him.
Hector stepped closer to one of the pathway lamps so that he could examine the object. It wasn't quite identical to the one he'd made earlier, but it it was pretty decent, he felt. More importantly, it gave him a clear idea of how much his precision was lost when he materialized something over a large distance and without being able to see it.
'Give them some encouragement,' said Garovel privately.
"Ah... well done," said Hector. Agh. He needed to stop being so self-absorbed. "So... what's your question, then?"
The boy with the bowl cut looked around at his peers triumphantly before settling back on Hector. "I wanna know if you're the new leader of the Rainlords or not!"
A chorus of murmurs ran through the small crowd.
'Be careful how you answer that,' said Garovel.
Hector understood why the reaper was saying that, but he honestly didn't think it was that difficult of a question. Sure, these kids were young, but not that young. He was fairly confident that they would understand, as long as he didn't treat them like they were babies.
That was something that he knew a thing or two about from personal experience. Even teachers often seemed not to realize just how much kids could comprehend. He remembered an instance in middle school when one of the girls in his class had asked the elderly teacher about why her parents weren't living together anymore. The teacher didn't even know how to approach that question, much less answer it, but during recess, a group of kids had gotten together and explained it to the girl. She hadn't been happy about it, and maybe the kids lacked a bit of tact, but the girl ultimately understood the situation just fine.
And so, looking at these kids now, Hector didn't want to lie to them or tell them any half-truths.
"No, I'm not the new leader of the Rainlords," said Hector plainly.
There came a second chorus of murmurs, but Hector wasn't done.
"It's a trick we're playing," said Hector. "And you're all in on it. You guys know that you're staying here in secret, right?"
"Yeah," a couple kids said, while several others nodded.
"Well," Hector went on, "we want certain other people to believe that I... well, that I'm a really dangerous guy. That way, they'll be less inclined to come after you. So it's important that you guys are in on the trick, too. It's something we all have to do together."
There was a brief intermission of silence, and then the kid with the bowl cut asked, "What if they come after us, anyway?"
Okay. Maybe now was a moment to lie--or at least, a moment to feign confidence. "If that happens... then we'll fight them. And they'll realize what a mistake they made."
There was briefly more silence.
"But still," added Hector, "it's always better to avoid unnecessary fights. We're talking about the lives of you and your parents, your siblings and cousins. That's important. You guys understand that, right?"
"Y-yeah..."
"Of course we do..."
"Good," said Hector firmly. "Because the goal of this trick is to make sure... that what happened at Dunehall doesn't happen here. Understand?"
"Yeah," said a few kids in unison.
"Good," repeated Hector. "It's important that you guys take this stuff seriously. But I bet you knew that already, huh? Because you're Rainlords, right?"
"Duh!"
"Yeah!"
"That's right!"
"I'm still confused, though," said a girl with a ponytail. "So are you a really dangerous guy or not?"
Eesh. Now there was a difficult question, Hector felt.
'Ask her her name first,' said Garovel.
"Ah... what's your name?" said Hector.
"Maria..."
"Maria what?" said Hector.
"Maria Blackburn," she said.
'Tell her you're not dangerous to any of them,' said Garovel. 'And use her name.'
Aw, shit, that was a pretty tall order. "Ah... well... Maria... as far as you guys are concerned, I'm not dangerous at all..."
"Yeah, but how many bad guys could you beat up at once?"
"I heard Lord Dimas beat up like fifty, one time!"
"Could you beat up Lord Dimas?!"
Oh shit. Hector held his hands up but also couldn't help laughing a little. "Alright, that's enough. I already answered enough of your questions. If you want to ask a bunch of new ones, you'll have to find the knight again."
"Aw, c'mon! Don't be so stingy!"
Hector considered hiding the next figurine so well that they would never be able to find it. He also wondered if this game was getting a little too intense.