"What was that move you used in there?" Lond asked as they walked out of The Pit. There was a new line of diners waiting, and they were shuffled in as Cort and his friends departed.
"Frog Princess Leaping for the Heavens," Cort answered.
"That sounds like a Gracious Lily name," Emile added. Cort looked to his friend in surprise. Emile just shrugged his shoulders. "I've been doing martial arts my entire life. In thirty-eight years and countless competitions, I've come across Lily a few times."
"I don't understand the reference," Lond said. "What's the difference between Gracious Lily and the frog attack?"
"Gracious Lily is the name of the school, Lond," Cort explained. It was almost cute having to teach that one. Granted, Cort and presumably Emile as well had spent their entire lives around fighters or soldiers or martial artists. "Frog Princess is the name of the technique that I used."
Lond made a sound beneath his mask to show his understanding, though his eyes continued studying Cort as he pondered.
"We were standing outside of the door for a bit before coming in," Emile added. They were about halfway back to their tent for the evening. "That Rakshan guy is a Godhand? That's just wild. I didn't think they let anyone other than Imperials get that title."
"He's legit," Cort stated. "I saw the brand and everything." Cort looked to Lond, whose eyes returned to their lost haze. "Godhands are the recognized 'greatest' of any school. So essentially, Rakshan is recognized as the greatest Moctal user in the Empire. Possibly the world."
"Something's off about that," Emile said.
"I agree," Lond added. He quickly looked around them, so Cort did as well. There were plenty of people walking along the encampment paths still, though no one was paying their party any mind in particular.
"We should hold off on this until we're in private," Cort stated. One could not guess a person's allegiances just by looking at them. The Empire was vast, and Remus and its labyrinth were far from the center of civilization.
Still, to critique the Empire in front of the wrong person was an easy way to start a brawl. And that kind of brawl would not end until blood was spilled.
"Here we are," Emile said as they finally reached their tent. "Home sweet home." It had grown dark when they made it back, and Cort's body was aching. Going from a dive that ended in him needing repairs (a process that always left him drained) into a pit fight against someone using a vicious style like Moctal had left him exhausted.
When they got into the tent, Cort used the last of his energy to dash over to the bed. He tackled the mattress with a groan, clinging tightly to the soft, warm blankets. He could feel the gentle footfalls of a friendly creature moving along his back, and felt Ashen's furry coat brush past his neck as the ermine slithered out his shirt.
"You three need to be far more careful," Ashen said as he perched atop Cort's back. The young man turned his head to keep his face exposed, but otherwise stayed front side down on the bed. "Especially you, Emile. Acting so brazenly with a woman as powerful as Ryza Ulgrim."
"Yeah, yeah," Emile said. Cort heard a bed creaking, and could barely spot Emile laying down in the corner of his eye. "Both of you keep telling me that she could kill me, but that's just my type of woman. We Savorians are passionate. Men of action if you will."
"When I say 'power' that's not what I mean," Ashen chided. "She is an Imperial General. With the influence and reach she has, it would not end with you back in a jail cell. She'd kill your entire family, then Lond's most likely, and make life absolutely horrid for the young master's mother."
Emile grumbled, making a noise that was undeniably a deep thinking hum. "I don't want you guys to get in trouble," Emile muttered. "She's just everything I've ever wanted in a woman."
"You don't know her beyond her name and her body," Lond replied. His voice was no longer muffled, and Cort saw that the mage had removed his cloak and mask. He was putting his jewelry away in a small box on his nightstand as he continued talking. "On the one hand, I agree with Ashen. The aggressive flirting with the General could get all of us in trouble."
"Plus she's insane," Cort added weakly. "Oh. Thank you for signing me up for private training Emile. Really appreciate it."
"That was going to be my other point, though. I think that you should engage in those lessons, Cort." Cort bolted upright immediately, leaving Ashen to yelp as he stumbled down Cort's back and landed gracelessly on the floor. He stared at Lond, using precious energy to show betrayal and bewilderment on his face.
"The Imperial Army is engaging in diving at Veranus," Lond stated. "It's not for riches or glory. There is a special interest that the people don't know of. They are attending an event run by a Jicotti man. A Jicotti who just so happens to be appointed to an Imperial position of status."
"That is strange," Emile added. He was still laying flat on his back, shackled arms behind his head and eyes closed. "Last I heard, the Jicotti lords were still arguing with the Empire over the land. Fights are starting to break out."
"Lond," Ashen said, having crawled back up into the bed and resting against Cort's leg. "The young master and I have no pledges to the Empire. I will not allow him to interfere in Imperial affairs, either. We have bigger priorities."
"Ashen's right, Lond," Cort added. He looked down to his hand for a moment. A hand belonging to an arm that before today was not his own, magically grafted to the vessel his soul was hiding out in.
Three years could be short.
"I'm not sure why you don't like the Empire," Cort said. "I'm not even sure if that's what's going on with you. Emile and I want to focus on our dark wizard issues first."
"I'm sorry," Lond said before turning away and slipping into his bed. Cort thought he might've been crying. His voice was shaky and quiet when he said, "Don't want you guys to get hurt."
"You're very sweet," Emile interjected. "A compromise, then. I'll behave less like a lovestruck fool around Ryza. Cort, when, not if, you meet with Ryza, maybe just ask a question or two."
"Emile!" Ashen hissed out. "That can get him killed."
"I'm not saying start off with 'What's your evil plan.' Just innocuous small talk. Wouldn't hurt to be on the good side of an Imperial General and one of the Godhands."
"We'll see," Cort replied as he finally laid his head back down. He could no longer fight how tired he was. As sleep overtook him, he wondered what kind of small talk would even work on someone like Ryza. He glanced over to Lond, and saw that he was curled up tightly in his blanket.
Why do you think he likes to hide like that? Ashen asked Cort in his mind. The ermine had taken a spot near Cort's pillow and coiled up.
He said Iphos sent him to dive to understand the world better, Cort thought back. People. I think he just has a hard time with people. We can trust him, Ashen