The afternoon trek proved more arduous. Thunder Mountain never offered gentle passage.
Frelia's pulse quickened each time the path curved - this proximity to the horse pastures meant potential encounters with familiar faces. Yet as the journey continued undisturbed, her anxiety gradually dissolved into complacency.
"Brother," she tugged Mensile's sleeve with theatrical flourish, "When Uncle Charmain praised me at noon, was he admiring my looks or my virtuous character?"
Mensile's eloquent eye-roll spoke volumes.
A muffled chuckle from behind startled them. The three cloaked figures trailed silently as ever, their presence so muted even the chattering Skylark ahead seemed unaware. Frelia turned to offer polite acknowledgement when chaos erupted.
The sickening thud of collapsing bodies preceded her being yanked backward by an unseen force. Golden light flooded her vision.
"A-Ancar!" She stammered as the elven arcanist materialized, his grip steadying her. Behind them, mercenaries drew weapons with metallic hisses until Charmain's booming "Stand down!" restored order.
The guildmaster's gaze lingered on the smoldering black flames dancing across a cloaked figure's palm. Frelia instinctively pulled Mensile toward the elf's protective aura.
"Merely retrieving stray lambs," Ancar's smile held winter's edge, gesturing at the groaning noble entourage now sprawled in the dirt. None dared question how these "strays" had become separated.
As they withdrew from the group, the elf's piercing gaze swept over Mensile. "Ocean's Radiance. Rare indeed."
"Please keep it secret!" Frelia interjected before her brother could protest.
Ancar's chuckle carried ancient wisdom as he produced an ornate tome. "Basic formulae for alchemical practice. The markets in Oksai should provide affordable materials." The glowing script on its midnight cover proclaimed "The Alchemist's Tribute—Gifts from the God of Knowledge".
His parting words hung ominous in the mountain air. "Old Dotter... always had an eye for special foundlings."
From that encounter, their status within the caravan transformed. Upon reaching Thunderwatch Keep, even the lowly stablehand and her brother received proper chambers—though Frelia found herself roomed with the lace-draped noblewoman whose entourage had miraculously survived the journey.
Dinner's raucous energy pulsed through the tavern hall. Frelia slipped away early, determined to study her precious grimoire. The intricate elven scripts challenged her, particularly the passage about—
"Whatever is that?" The shrill interruption made her jump. The lace princess stood framed in the doorway, cheeks inflated like a bullfrog in mating season.
"A... gift from a friend," Frelia hedged, clutching the tome.
"I'll give three gold crowns!" A frilly purse materialized.
"Four," Frelia countered instinctively.
"You mock me?" Crimson flooded the noble's face. What followed was textbook aristocratic tantrum—grabbing, dodging, and Frelia's last-moment realization of approaching danger. She yanked her attacker's wrist, tumbling them both to the floor just as shadows filled the threshold.
"Fair ladies, has misfortune befallen you?" The silver-haired cloaked figure removed his hood, revealing features that could make war poets weep. His courtly concern for the blushing noble created perfect cover as his companions flanked Frelia.
She barely registered the door closing before cold metal bit into her shoulder. A jeweled hand emerged from black velvet, brushing aside her bangs with clinical precision. Captivated despite her terror, Frelia stared into eyes like liquid starlight.
"Shaire," the vision purred. "How delightful to encounter... uncaged Starlight."
The third figure removed his hood, his beauty stealing Frelia's breath anew. "Sprengard," he inclined his head. "Guard your freedom well, little light."
Pain exploded in her left ear as something crystalline embedded itself. Through tears, she saw Shaire examining empty vials. "Ah, depleted our windflower essence. No matter—" he fastened an ornate chain to her throbbing ear, "this marker will suffice."
As the trio vanished through a writhing portal, Frelia's delayed scream echoed off stone walls:
"Couldn't you demons have reset my shoulder before leaving?!"