Glass or Diamond: Fairy's Wish

They say drunken fairies are good luck. With a drunken fairy, magic or no magic, a party can survive anything.

Or, so one human warrior not normally known for mischief would have a much younger fairy believe.

Maerin fits the role, of course. The mature fairy has one solid belief of her own; not to die sober. So, while she did prove reliable by making improvised explosives well before, she put herself unconscious when the situation took a turn for the precarious and dangerous.

The young fairy Lykha is skeptical. Murtoa isn’t humorless, but he also has absolutely no hard feelings about Maerin being drunk during the harrowing flight across the trail of a great snail and providing minimal active assistance.

The lizardman spellshot says gently to Coco, “Fiery One; Coco, I am sorry for striking you. Old disciplines kicked in, but it is no excuse. I will accept your retaliation.”

The teen stares at him in surprise. She crosses her arms and puffs her cheeks with attitude, but it ends up making the scruffy teen girl look cuter than anything. “Didn’e hur’ so much. I le’ it be bu’ a jack’s tail fluff this go. Bu’, nex’ go, you gettin’ a full-juice shocka.”

The reptilian giant chuckles. “I shall control myself better. I am grateful for your mercy, dear Coco.”

He then adds warmly, “Let us not ignore our lady Maerin’s work ethic to make so many of those improvised explosives. As well as you, Gentle One. You learned a rather advanced spell with ease.”

Lykha looks down, whimpering, “Mury… a-about that spell…”

“I know.”

She looks up. Did he feel it too? Are they still bound?

“Ah, yes, I did leave out… Communing with spirits is rather unpleasant.”

Lykha snaps, “Unpleasant! They tried to… to…” She sniffles, “They touched me… a-and tried to get me to… ‘join them’.”

“Interesting,” replies the big lizardman as he strokes his nose. “They are indeed quite hostile to me. But, you ignored them no less.”

“Ignored them!? They-... I’m… I’m too young to be pregnant!”

There’s an awkward silence, and even Coco looks at her. The young fairy whimpers with tears, “I don’t want a baby right now… I’m… I barely know how to survive…”

Murtoa asks, confused, “What are you talking about?”

She murmurs, nearly too embarrassed to speak, “The-... the spirits… they touched my tummy a-and it felt like… one of them ki-ki-kissed me!” She blurts it out, covering her face. “I’m not ready to be a mom!”

Again, an awkward silence fills the cab.

The silence is bluntly and belligerently broken when Coco bursts into laughter. The teen starts gasping as she laughs, leaning precariously on the door. She heaves her lungs, laughing hysterically as Lykha snaps, “THIS ISN’T FUNNY!”

The teen doesn’t relent, and the vehicle begins to slow as she leans almost entirely on the door, choking on laughter. The door clicks open, and only a human warrior’s lightning-fast reaction saves her from falling out of the cab as he snatches her belt. His lunge startles Maerin awake, and she asks, “WHA-!? Wha’s goin’ on? We alive already?”

Lykha whimpers, “It’s not funny…”

Mury pulls Coco back into the cab, with the teen still laughing as she giggles out, “Than’s Love.” She looks at Lykha once and bursts into full guffaws again, more deliberately laying down on her seat to laugh.

Murtoa says in his assuring tone, “I’m no expert on spirits, but… you’re… not…” He grunts uneasily, unsure how to word it.

Coco explains more bluntly as she continues to chuckle, “Ta’es more ‘an a couple ticks and licks, Bae.” She wipes tears from her eyes, breathing heavily. “Ta’es just a li’le more work to mix a crier.”

Lykha looks around at everyone. Coco is still chuckling and wiping tears from her eyes, Maerin sips silently at her flask, avoiding eye contact, and Gyrryth scratches his chin nervously. Her gaze finally circles around to Murtoa, who nods softly.

The young fairy’s cheeks fill with bright red color and embarrassment grips her fully. She stammers meaningless syllables, unable to form thoughts and words as her brain shorts out. She cries, diving into Murtoa’s bag -the first thought that comes into her brain to hide-.

Coco teases, “Wha’s wrong, Love? ‘S an easy mistake to make… For-...”

“That’s enough,” comes Murtoa’s voice calmly. He says gently, “We won’t use that spell again. It was effective, but there are always other ways.”

Lykha whines, “I feel like a fool!”

Maerin asks bluntly, possibly trying to change subject, “Who threw up? Somefin stink a foul -hic!-.”

The younger fairy’s eyes water in her hiding place, but Murtoa’s voice answers, “Must’ve been me. Lost consciousness when I was in the sand. Thanks for the rescue, by the way.”

Coco asks, “Been meanin’ to ask, Love. We no’ mindin’ our otha ‘rizon chaseuhs?”

Gyrryth replies, “I lost nothing that cannot be replaced.”

“We have enough supplies in the cruiser to survive. Another reason to carry little of value.”

“So… can we keep this sessy runna?”

“We’ll have to, for now.”

Lykha, meanwhile, holds her chest, surprised and touched as always at Murtoa’s surprising level of sensitivity. Nothing seems to bother him, even if he seems like a fool.

And, even when the others tease him, they only grow closer. And, when he doesn’t give in to the teasing, they tend to carry on. He takes it in stride, and his friends risk anything to save him.

Just as he does for anyone he cares about.

Maerin teases softly, “-hic- B-by the way, Mur… Mur… Pfft! ‘Mur-mur’. I li’e it.” The less-than-sober fairy points at the human warrior, saying, “You owe me ten silv’s per… uh… those… ‘splody things…”

“The bombs?” asks Lykha.

The mature fairy snaps her fingers, pointing at Lykha next. “Tha’s the one. You owe me ten per, times… uh… twenty… tha’s…” She scratches her head, clearly struggling with math in her inebriated state.

“‘Ey, Love! You gab seven jingles for ‘Bando!”

Maerin blinks her eyes unevenly at Coco, seemingly remembering the foggy conversation that happened after Mury regained consciousness.

However, Murtoa says, “It’s fine. Two hundred silvers. I can pay twenty now.” Without hesitation, Mury hands over his coin pouch, adding, “One eighty remain. If you’re willing to hold a tab, I will pay you back with interest.”

Everyone looks at the human warrior for a long moment, and Maerin clutches his coin pouch gingerly to her chest. She nods, “A-agreed. -hic-. T-take your time…E-er, wi-without the inter’st. Is okay.”

Mury hums non-commitally, and no one pays any specific attention to it.

Except Lykha. She sees it this time as clear as day. As clear as any other. She smiles softly. And, it makes it clear what she has to do.

“M-Mury?”

He looks at her. “Um… I’ll… I’ll do it… I know what to expect this time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Th-The spells… the advanced ones that… call upon spirits… I’ll learn them a-and use them.”

“Not nece-”

“NO! I won’t be a burden! I know you all use my flame and light spells to make me feel useful. B-But, if I can do more, I should! We won’t survive forever if I can’t carry some of the weight.” She fidgets with her fingers, murmuring, “And, Gyrryth said the spirits are mean to him, but it doesn’t stop him from fulfilling his duties.”

Gyrryth chuckles. “I was not afforded much choice. Drakyks tend to have strong spiritual connections if they’re born with the right markers. We’re a favorite of the Holy Order.”

Mury says quietly, “Shyar was scouted by the Holy Order for the markers she had, but we were drafted before the selection.”

There’s a quiet that fills the vehicle for a moment. Mury never talked about his past life before Lykha asked about it, and it’s unclear if his late friends are something he’s comfortable talking about.

The human warrior breaks the silence himself, “Humans are more likely to have the markers for magic, but Drakyks, as Gyrryth said, tend to be far more potent.” He looks at Lykha, “Regardless, no one here feels like you’re useless. Even Coco can’t say it with a straight face. We all have times we’re useful and useless. That’s the way it goes. So don’t expose yourself to burdens you can’t bear. If you give in or die, you’ll actually be useless.”

Coco teases, “I dunno, Love. We coul’ probs arc ‘er pre’y good. Er, you or Gyrryth that is.”

Maerin lays out flat on Mury’s lap again, replying, “No good. Fairies make terrible projectiles. We’re all lopsided and tons of drag. -hic- An’ even I don’ weigh that much.” She says to Mury, “Hey, Mury; I’ll knock ten silvs off your debt if you massage my feet.”

Both the teenage techromancer and the younger fairy glare at the impudent more mature fairy with uncontrollable gasps. But, the human warrior replies, “It’s fine. You can rest all you need. Coco, keep heading north please. We’ll adjust course after sunset and we’ll rest.”

“Are you not concerned with the silveryourd, Sir Mury?” asks Gyrryth.

The unconventional knight replies, “I don’t think there’s a need. It’s definitely wounded, assuming it survives. It’ll likely return to its nest to heal. If we can find a village nearby, we may be able to determine where that nest is from the villagers.”

Lykha was just preparing to ask if he intended to hunt it, but his answer seems to confirm it for her. She’s a little frustrated that once more, he redirected away from her concerns, but she’ll worry about advanced spells when she can ask Gyrryth to teach her more.

They come to rest as sundown passes, and they make camp. Gyrryth returns the door to the passenger side of the cab, while Mury points out the rear bay would probably be a better place for the girls to camp, rather than outside in the sand where wind and bugs can affect them. Mury, of course, begins the night keeping watch from on top of the cruiser.

They head out fairly early in the morning, granted more runtime on the cruiser’s larger batteries. Coco also teaches Mury and Gyrryth how to drive so they can each take turns, relieving the teen for a rest.

The town appears on the horizon soon enough, and Gyrryth drives to an out of the way location south off of the main lane into the town. This one is about half the size of Solace, though there are distinct vehicles for sale; two cruisers and about three or four sand rails. There are also a handful of gas-powered two wheel vehicles. Lykha recognizes them from her time with her original captor; they employed these motorbikes to overwhelm other vehicles with far higher speed.

Mury doesn’t hesitate to make his way into town to find the bailiff or other town official to ask about the silveryourd. Lykha stays close, with Coco and Maerin heading towards one of the small shops to see what supplies are available. Gyrryth locks up the cruiser, following the human warrior.

The bailiff is sitting on a rocking chair next to another elderly person of androgynous appearance. There is a wooden sign with a painted picture and message; “[Wanted; Monster Slayer. Silveryourd. Reward negotiable.]”

Lykha can’t help but smile a little. It’s as if Mury predicted every step. He approaches, asking without pleasantries, “Either of you the bailiff?”

“Who’s askin’?”

“Monster Slayer.” Mury gestures at the sign.

“Any experience?”

“A fair amount. Any information on where I can find the silveryourd? What direction does it seem to come from, who last saw it, does it favor a hunting ground?”

The aged sage next to the bailiff says, “West. Not far. Old gryduke carcass is its nest.”

Gyrryth remarks, “Must be the one that engaged us. Small enough to fit in a gry’s body.”

Lykha shivers at the thought. She remembers the gryduke she and Mury faced the day they met, and it was FAR from small. It was a mountain range unto itself. She dreads the thought of one of the draconic monsters being too big to fit inside the shell of one of the truly colossal titans of the sand.

Her eyes widen. She squeaks, “Mury… could it be…?”

He shakes his head. “No. Grydukes are fairly common in the deserts. For something to move into one, it usually takes a year or so for the innards to decay enough and dry out enough that they can tolerate it. A fresh kill is a breeding ground for mold and bacteria. Not to mention the parasites and scavengers.”

The two elders glance at each other. The sage asks cautiously, “Are you… Murtoa?”

“I am a man named Murtoa, yes.”

Lykha sternly corrects him, “He is THE Murtoa. He’s-...”

“Lykha…” counters the human warrior softly. She pouts a little, and he adds, “How much is on offer?”

The bailiff answers, “We’ve collected a pool of seventy eight silvers. I… I know it’s not much, but we can…”

“That’s enough.”

The two pause. The bailiff murmurs in apparent disbelief, “It is you… You’re the one that killed the gryduke a couple years ago for us.”

“Dunno. I’ve killed a few. Silveryourd may already be dead. We lured it into a trap to avoid it, but didn’t confirm it. If it’s alive, we’ll kill it. If it’s dead, we’ll bring back proof.”

“Thank you, Murtoa. We can’t thank you-”

“You can. If you CAN spare food and water, we’ll eat and replenish drinks before setting out. If not, we’ll set out as soon as we are ready.”

Both of the elders smile. “Just like last time.”

Lykha lays her head affectionately on his shoulder with a soft smile.

After a handshake with the bailiff and the elder with him, Mury makes his way towards Coco and Maerin.

When the three are close, though, it sounds like Maerin is shouting ferociously at someone.

They break into a jog.

Once more, the rough edges of the world are showing themselves, reminding Lykha that, in contrast to the many she’s met who are the more ideal type of people she dreamt of meeting on her adventure, a near equal amount are the unfathomable dirty and malicious individuals that Lykha had never envisioned even existed, and whom she fell in with on virtually her first day out of the fairy village.

A group is harassing and throwing rocks at Coco, who is curled up on the ground, shielding her head. One of them is preparing to throw a particularly big rock, but Mury arrives, catching the rock with ease.

“What’s going on here?” Mury is not accusatory, but his voice has chilled to a similar tone as that of when he faced the imposter Murtoa.

One of the young women in the group shouts, “SHE’S ONE OF THEM!”

“Them?” asks Murtoa plainly.

“Southern demon!” cries out an older man. “From b’yond the south mountains!”

“DEMON!”

“MONSTER!”

“Is she?” Murtoa’s inflection never changes. Lykha is enraged, but she lands near Coco, checking on the teen. She’s stunned Murtoa can keep so calm, but then, she reminds herself that it’s very possible he’s loyal on principle, not on true friendship.

Coco is crying, and understandably so. She has been hit at least once, but she’s looking up at Mury with worried eyes.

The next part stuns both girls.

“Are you stupid!? SHE HAS HORNS GROWING OUT OF HER HEAD!”

This stuns Lykha, as she never picked up on it. But, a simple glance now reveals strange outward protrusions to her hair, like goose-eggs from her head being hit.

More stunning, though, is when Mury says as plainly and mechanically as ever, “I know that. Does it matter?”

This offsets everyone around, including Gyrryth and Maerin. The basic history of the world, known to almost anyone else, is that the mysterious denizens of the region south of the southern mountains attempted to invade northward, and they are hated enemies to many of those born and raised north of the natural barrier. Mury himself was drafted to fight them. He lost everything he cared about that day. Even if the holgamoor hadn’t arrived, the southerners were fighting his comrades. The Holy Order also preaches the evils of the southerners -though most don’t know anything about them or have even seen them-.

“HOW COULD IT NOT!? SHE’S ONE OF THE DEMONS THEY WORSHIP!”

“No. She’s Coco.”

“SHE KILLED HER OWN FAMILY!”

Murtoa doesn’t say anything to this, and Coco sobs.

However, Murtoa hasn’t backed down.

One of the villagers rears another stone back, and Murtoa’s arm snaps out, launching the larger stone before the villager can even start forward. The impact makes a sickening crack! sound, and the villager flops back.

This startles the group, and Murtoa growls as he checks his forearm bracers, “Coco is with me.”

“You’d defend a monster!?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Gyrryth steps up alongside Mury, his towering form at full height. The spellshot rolls his sleeves up, and Mury says calmly, “Avoid killing them.”

“Yes, yes. Indeed.”

“Lykha, make sure she’s okay.”

“Right.” Lykha nods. She knows her own anger -which wants blood- isn’t right, but she’s glad Mury is the one in charge.

The two move with ferocity, taking stones without flinching. Both employ skillful hand to hand and martial arts, incapacitating the aggressors one at a time in moments. Mury’s form is plain and aggressive, overwhelming the other humans and even a drakyk male in the group. Gyrryth makes short work of the humans he faces, launching one through the air with a kick that cracks ribs.

The bailiff jogs up just as Mury flurries a bunch of small hits before whirling in a powerful clothesline that knocks the last village aggressor down. Mury takes only a single breath and exhales, steadying himself as he puts his hand on the armor-breaker sword’s pommel.

“You run a village where it’s okay to attack children?”

“I- *huff* I just heard. I-I’m sorry. Please… Please don’t let this affect the bounty… We’ll deal with them.”

Murtoa says sternly, “Don’t beg me. Ask her.” He nods at Coco.

Coco sniffles as she stares up at Murtoa with watering eyes. The bailiff orders some of the other villagers to drag the injured away from the area, and he approaches the five. He drops to his knees, saying, “Coco, dear child… I beg you, please forgive our village. We don’t all feel that way.”

Coco sniffles once more, wiping her eyes as she whimpers, “Th-They’ right, though…”

“No they’re not,” insists Lykha. “They were just being hateful.”

“I… I did kill them…” Her gaze goes distant. “M-Me mum… and Papa…”

“They didn’t take caution, then.” Mury’s answer is blunt and cold. It’s almost disrespectful, and Coco looks up at him again with hurt eyes. “At least one of them knew what you were.”

“W-What do you know?” asks the teen accusingly. “You weren’t there!”

The bailiff adds, “It’s true, Coco. No one believes you started the fire intentionally. It happened. And, it revealed…” He trails off.

Mury kneels in front of her, saying more calmly, “No one is served by guilt. They are served by memory and action. The best your family could ask for is that you make yourself better; the best techromancer in the world.” Her face twists into more sobs, and he continues, “Mistakes destroy lives. But, they are nothing more than fire. The finest swords are forged in the hottest fires. I don’t see a monster, or I’d kill it. Instead, I see a sword; glowing and ready to save the world.”

She breaks out into tears again, throwing herself against his chest as she clutches his collar. She cries for several long moments, and Mury says more softly, “If you want, we’ll leave and never come back.”

“No…” murmurs the teen through brief sobs. “I-... I want to prove to them… that I’m not a monster…”

Lykha watches the human gingerly pet the side of her head, deliberately stroking the nub on the right side of her head with his thumb. He says softly, “It’s no different to me. If it’s what you want…”

“It is.” She sniffles, and looks directly into his eyes through his visor. “I’m better than they are. I’m a monster slayer.”

Murtoa of Lakia, go-to professional monster slayer of legend, nods in approval. He says over his shoulder to the bailiff, “We’ll complete the mission as agreed. But, if any of my team is harrassed…”

“They won’t be. I’ll see to it personally. Thank you.” The bailiff recruits some of his deputies to inform the villagers, and he keeps one assigned to patrol near the group at all times. They, of course, simply head back to the cruiser with Mury carrying Coco -who naturally doesn’t object-.

“You okay Maerin?” He asks as she walks beside him, his pace intentionally slow for the older fairy to keep. She sips her flask, finally able to relax, “I’m fine. Sorry I couldn’t be more useful, Coco.”

Coco shakes her head. “Thank you all… F-For standing up for me.”

Lykha, who hovers over Coco, says brightly, “Of course. No one picks on my rival, except me.”

Coco smiles gingerly. She then asks Mury, “M-... Mury?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look at her, but his tone is very gentle and friendly, much like normal.

“D-... Did you know the whole time?”

“No. I thought I felt something when I was patching your forehead after the snareweed. But, then I caught you one night filing your horns down.”

Lykha glances at the teen in surprise. She can’t resist the urge to pull Coco’s hair aside, much to the teen’s objection. But, the young fairy saw what she needed to. Just as Mury said, the bone-like nubs emerging from the girl’s head are filed to an unnatural flatness, showing blood where she clearly endured pain to try to keep the protrusions as inconspicuous as possible. The young fairy murmurs tenderly, “Coco…”

“I didn’e want to be this… Mury, I swear, I-... I want’a be-...”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Her eyes waver as she stares up at him. “I-If you knew… D-Don’t you hate me?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Y-You f-fought… my kind, didn’t you? A-And the ones… who worship...”

“I fought soldiers, soldiers fought me. I didn’t fight you. You’re just Coco. Best techromancer in the world.” He adds a little grimly, “And I just fought ‘my kind’ seconds ago. ‘Kind’ doesn’t matter.”

The teen lays her head against his chest, whimpering as she cries and laughs in relief.

Maerin asks, “So, she has horns… Do they do anything?”

Gyrryth replies, “It is believed those of that particular descent are descendants of demons.”

“‘Cause she has horns?”

Murtoa clarifies, “They’re powerful mages. Their power earned many of them cult followings, and led to a war.”

“Coco can use magic?” Lykha tries to sound excited about that fact, trying to focus on the positive.

Coco hisses, “No. I’ll never use tricks.”

Gyrryth replies, “I believe her magic has been sealed, anyways. I never detected magic on her. I’d have never known otherwise, honestly. Human bodies are wierdly shaped anyways.”

“Sealed?” asks Lykha surprised.

Maerin replies as she shakes her now-empty flask, “A favorite of the Holy Order. It’s a spell that shuts down a mage’s magic. Fairies are the only ones immune to sealing magic, ironically, which is why they don’t like seeing us floating around.”

“Immune?” asks Gyrryth, surprised at this knowledge.

Maerin nods, “Sealing works on cutting ties with their magic using an aspect of one’s own magic. Fairies ARE magic. Cutting our ties would kill us.”

Lykha replies, “That doesn’t make sense. Once a wish is spent…”

“Not the same as sealing. But, same end result. Point is, to try to seal a fairy, the fairy would die in the process. Easier to just cut our throats.”

The younger fairy asks, “But, why would they seal Coco, then?”

Gyrryth replies, “It’s less messy than… the other-...”

“So she can be drafted if need be,” states Mury coldly. He then forcefully redirects, saying, “Coco, you don’t have to file your horns anymore. I didn’t say anything before because I wasn’t sure what to say, but don’t hurt yourself. And stop wasting sleep.”

The teen keeps her face against his chestplate, murmuring softly, “I can’e do tha’… I don’ want… people ta…”

“Let me deal with those people. If you’re going to stay the best techromancer, you need to be in top form.”

She stays silent, not objecting, but clearly not confirming. Lykha tries a little more sternly, “Coco, please don’t. None of us will judge you. In fact, I kinda want to see what they look like. I bet they’re cute on you.”

“You’re just saying that…”

“I concur,” states Gyrryth warmly. “One should not be ashamed of their own natural advantages. Imagine if I kept my teeth dull like a human’s.”

“W-...What if they’re… ugly?”

“The real test will be if MURY finds them ugly, right? And if, by some chance he does, I’ll light him on fire and then personally help you file them back down. How about that?”

Coco scoffs at the idea, but Mury says calmly, “Agreed.” Coco smiles up at him. She finally squeaks, “O-Okay… B-But don’ falsegab at me, Love. I-I’ll know.”

“Of course.”

She nuzzles his chest as he carries her the rest of the way to the cruiser, and Maerin adds, “I didn’t even know what a southerner looked like before today, anyways. Human. Who knew?”

“The true southerners aren’t the… ‘demons’ for lack of a better word.” Lykha noticed Mury hesitated strangely for a moment, but maybe he didn’t want to call Coco a demon specifically. He continues, “They’re actually semi-animalistic in appearance. Not unlike Drakyks, but mammals. No offense meant.”

“None taken, Sir Murtoa.”

“Many of them obviously… undergo mutilation or shapshifting spells to hide their true appearances in their flight from the south.”

Lykha asks curiously, “What are they fleeing?”

“Dunno. But it was worth risking discovery to escape.”

“S-so the war…?”

“I don’t know why the war was fought. Honest. But, I know Coco’s family are far from the only southerners to sneak north of the mountains. Some of them were simply deserters, others snuck over treacherous parts of the mountains while the war was raging. Both ‘demons’ and the true southerners can have children with humans and drakyks, so most times, one parent is a northerner who sheltered a refugee.”

The group digests what Mury just said. Once more, his wisdom is surprisingly wide, given what he does know. He clearly is the least surprised and least affected by the revelation that Coco isn’t quite a human like everyone believed, even when he discovered it. He never confronted Coco, he never showed her any different behavior, and he didn’t mention it to anyone, even Gyrryth or Maerin.

Now at the cruiser, Murtoa says calmly, “Everyone, get the cruiser ready.”

Maerin states, “I got deliverses comin’, so no leavin’ yet. Should be here less than a… hour… I think he said.”

Mury nods, “That works. Coco, are you okay to travel and work?”

She nods with a gentle smile, sniffling only a little. “Juicers shoul’ be full, but I’ll take a poke. Coul’n’e find any boom-balls, though, ‘f-fore…”

“That’s fine. Do a brief inspection and make sure we didn’t take more damage than we realized during the crossing, please. Skids and drive wheels especially.”

She grins, “I’m on’ee, Love. Leave it to me.” Without further ado, Coco sets to work.

“Gyrryth, prepare as you need for the silveryourd, and aid Coco if she needs it, if you would.”

“It shall be done, my friend.”

“Lykha, help Maerin store her deliveries securely when they arrive.”

“I will. What about you though?”

“I have a small errand. I’ll likely be back in time to help.”

“Okay… Will you be okay on your own?”

He chuckles and nods. “I should be. If not, Gyrryth is in charge.”

With that, Mury makes his own way back into town, and the group watches him briefly before setting to their own tasks. Maerin explains to Lykha what she bought, and the two plan for where to put it. It’s not an immense amount, but certainly too much for a couple of fairies to have carried back, especially after what happened in the town center.

Lykha glances his direction once more though. She doesn’t fear what Mury intends to do. He’s not malicious or aggressive enough to seek vengeance after the fact, especially with Coco doing okay.

But, that doesn’t make his desire to go back into town any less mysterious.

Murtoa returns just as mysteriously with nothing out of the ordinary, and he helps receive Maerin’s order; several gallon jugs and boxes of chemicals.

Lykha asks, “What are these for?”

Maerin points them out as Mury moves the gallon jugs to where she directs, “A couple strong bases, a base salt, five gallons of water, some grains, sugar, some reactive powders, aaaand… some malt extract.”

Gyrryth remarks from nearby, “Ah, preparing a brewing station?”

“Partially. First; I don’t know much, but I’ve heard some talk of acids, right? So, I want to be able to neutralize if need be. Then, some reactive powders for some flash and explosive bombs… smoke bomb ingredients… I should be able to stretch this pretty far.”

Murtoa remarks, “I already can’t afford to pay you back for used weapons. And this job-”

“Stop. I intend to use this myself. Happy?”

“That wasn’t…”

“You made it clear, Mury. I can do what I want. So shut up and pay me when you can. End of discussion.”

The human warrior stares at her quietly for a moment.

And, as Lykha has come to love, he acquiesces to his friends, arguing no further.

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