Glass or Diamond: Fairy's Wish

A good plan assumes the opponent also follows the plan -unwittingly, of course-. A great plan accounts for the opponent resisting the plan.

Not everything is practical enough to be accounted for, of course. Especially when the information provided on the opponent lacks certain information.

A deep, bestial growl fills the night air before the body of the silveryourd has even fully cooled and released its strength.

The plan laid out and executed by Murtoa of Lakia and his companions was intended for one mid-sized silveryourd, an acid spitting colossus fairly common in the desert, according to the two professional monster hunters in the party. They had to adapt when this silveryourd didn’t go exactly to plan, but they defeated it.

Now, however, the answer to a question posed by the implication of an egg has arisen.

Gyrryth and Coco both look down on the creature from their position high above in a moment of stunned silence.

Gyrryth responds first, drawing his second lightning pistol, quickly chanting and firing as a huge body throws itself onto the gryduke’s decaying head. Both Coco and Gyrryth stumble as Coco screams.

The teenage techromancer is afraid of heights, and it took great effort and reassurance to get her up to where she is -where she would in fact be safer than anywhere else-. Or, so everyone thought.

The newcoming monster howls in anger and pain from Gyrryth’s shot, and the lizardman spellshot recovers his footing. He holsters his pistol and takes a step back away from Coco’s direction. With a short sprint, he leaps as far as his physique will allow. He only just manages to catch the other tooth across the gap he had to jump, but he digs his claws in and scrambles to pull himself up.

Coco is clutching tightly to the tooth, terrified of falling.

Gyrryth scoops her up, even as she begs for him not to touch her. But, he has no intention of leaving her to the monster clawing its way up the jaw towards them. The lizardman cradles Coco, sprinting away from the encroaching colossus.

Lykha’s heart races as she watches this. She and Coco butt heads often, but the teen is a true and caring friend to Lykha. Gyrryth too, but Coco is the one person that Lykha feels like she can protect and reassure at all. She’s the sister Lykha never had; good and bad.

And worth every second.

She tenses when Gyrryth leaps from the jaw, narrowly avoiding a claw-swipe as the monster swings at him.

Sure enough, it’s another silveryourd, larger than the one they just killed and with shimmering, flickering skirts hanging from its lower jaw. It also flicks a pair of sail-like hoods upwards from its head, kind of like vents almost, but with flickering bioluminescent lights that twinkle attractively.

The two that just leapt from their perch plummet towards the sand, and Coco screams as Gyrryth holds her firmly to his chest.

He, however, jumped toward a specific spot, and he hits the rounded sloped edge of sand where the gryduke’s jaw buried itself into the sand on the down edge. The angle lets him soften his landing -similar to how Mury escaped the collapsing nightenmael-.

Lykha sighs when the two tumble safely to a stop.

But, of course, the silveryourd is still a problem.

A bright red light ignites to Lykha’s right.

She looks to find Murtoa holding a small clay stick with a BRIGHT red flame spitting out of it; a quarter-stick flare.

The silveryourd glares directly at him from its new perch high above them all. It roars, and Mury starts running -away from his companions-. The silveryourd adjusts its posture, and it inhales deeply as its gaze follows the human warrior.

Lykha cries out, “Mury!”

He throws the flare forward of himself, quickly sliding to a stop as he dives to the ground.

And, he throws a blanket over himself from where it was still laying in the sand.

The acid rains down in a broad shower, aimed at the flare mostly, but easily including Mury in its area of effect.

Mury only waits a second or so, quickly throwing the smoking and dissolving blanket off of himself. He quickly surveys his surroundings, digging in his gear bag.

The silveryourd holds its position, which gives it a strong command over the area.

Lykha flies quickly to Coco and Gyrryth to check on them; “Are you okay!?” Her gaze only briefly leaves Mury as he runs through the acid-soaked sand to leave the area.

He makes it just in time for one of the mortars to explode near him, throwing him to the side in a tumble.

Lykha and Coco both scream, “MURY!”

The human warrior scrambles to his feet, clutching his ribs, but still moving to escape the chemical cloud that the mortar exploded. Both acids and bases are highly corrosive, but the mortar is a much smaller volume, comparatively, than what the silveryourd can spit.

The large monster snorts and grumbles in apparent surprise, trying to figure out what just happened in its reptilian brain. A fountain sprayed out of the ground without warning.

Lykha checks on the two again, “Gyrryth? Coco?” Gyrryth grunts, “I will survive, but I am out of lightning spells for now. We may need to devise a chance to retreat.”

Lykha gasps. She looks to her first human friend. Mury’s movements are taking him further and further from the sand cruiser as he tries to control the focus of the silveryourd.

Coco asks worriedly, “Can’ne these monstys air-cruise?”

Gyrryth is silent for a moment. Lykha realizes the implication; even in the sand cruiser, they may not escape.

She tenses when she looks at the silveryourd when it steadies itself once more; it’s front-right leg is on the tooth Gyrryth was posted on, and which is still rigged to explode.

She points, “Gyrryth!” She can’t see the fuse herself or she’d light it, but he says quickly, “I am on it.”

He draws his remaining fire pistol, chanting the spell to illuminate the spellduster. He aims and fires, and the silveryourd notices the glow in time to look.

The shot hits its mark, though, and the explosives detonate, breaking the tooth free under the silveryourd’s weight. The massive weight of the silveryourd falls forward, but it doesn’t fall completely from the jaw.

Still, it comes very, very close, dangling from the edge as it tries to heft itself back up onto the jaw.

Gyrryth states, “That will about finish my magic for now.”

Lykha looks at Mury, who is pulling the last of the mortars out of the sand, panting and shifting in obvious pain from the last impact.

The silveryourd’s powerful claw slips for a moment as it tries to pull itself up, but it’s still hanging on.

Lykha runs through everything she can think of. She’s not a monster hunter -not yet-. She’s trying, but she needs more. She understands the basic goal right now; prevent the silveryourd from escaping and keep it from going on the offensive. Controlling the monster is relatively easy when the proper preparations are made.

Mury starts to head towards the silveryourd, headed for a position of the gryduke’s carcass where he can climb.

He intends to attempt his solo strategy.

That’s it!

Lykha sinks to her knees, folding her hands together. “Spirits, please listen… I know this isn’t the right way to ask, but I need your help. Please grant me enough power to knock the silveryourd from its perch. Lightning, o-or wind, or anything… I have to help him.”

There’s a pause, and the young fairy pleads with her inner voice for the spirits to have heard her.

The young fairy returns. On bended knee no less.

She’s cuter than you made her sound.

She would make a joyous one, I can tell.

She oozes love no less. Such dedication. Such hope. Such passion.

Mmm. Love, or Lust?

Lykha hears at least five distinctly different voices already, and the tingling sensation crawls across her skin. She can feel their presences this time, floating around her as her magic reaches out to them, and they to her.

Love, for sure! She’s truly scared for his well-being.

I wonder if he’s handsome. The tingle slides across her cheek.

“Please… help me help him.”

Please? So polite for a mage drawing power from us, hmm?

Heeheehee! I like her! Can we keep her?

We should! We could all give you more love than he, little fairy.

Lykha shakes her head, “No, please don’t suggest it.”

What incentive is there for us, hmm?

The young fairy tenses. The spirits are shameless, clearly. She whimpers, “I… I don’t know… But…”

Shh… A sixth voice; soft and gentle. We are not your enemy, dear Lykha. And we will not manipulate you with your love. But, be warned, we are not tools of war. Do not treat us as such.

“I understand. I-If you can teach me…”

I am. A contact touches Lykha’s forehead. It feels like another person’s forehead, and the same sixth voice whispers, You are a fairy, not a magic spell. You are the original magic user. You can learn anything. Reach for your enemy, and let your emotions and your magic guide your soul.

Lykha follows the instructions, reaching towards the silveryourd as it pulls itself up. She realizes her perception of time has slowed way down as the spirits converse with her. But, the creature is fully up on the jaw and pivoting back towards Mury.

Mury -Murtoa of Lakia-; a simple and humble knight that found her in a jar in the desert and asked for nothing in return. A man who thought nothing of protecting her life time and again. A friend who teaches her and guides her, while protecting her when he can.

Your first true love… The voice whispers, and Lykha feels like she’s in a hug, even as heat enters her cheeks. But, she focuses on the feeling, feeling more powerful immediately upon the statement.

Somewhere in the distant, slowed time, Coco asks softly, “Tricksie…?”

But, Lykha’s focus is elsewhere. Close your feelings in on it; bear the weight of your goal down upon your enemy.

Lykha closes her hand, feeling her energy surge and follow. She’s rather certain the spirit -or spirits- are empowering her, but at least some of the magic is hers.

A dark, glowing aura forms and streams into the silveryourd for a few of the elongated seconds.

A guiding feeling touches her hand, and it pulls back, her hand instinctively following.

Gyrryth seems to be shouting, but like Coco’s, his voice is muffled. “Wait!... Lykha!...”

Too late. Whatever he was going to say, the spell unleashes.

Dark magical energy explodes out of the silveryourd, but doesn’t do any physical damage. Regardless, the monster roars in pain, tumbling from the jaw down to where the first silveryourd fell. It howls in agony -a soul-rending pain- as it flails on the ground.

The monster groans piteously, and the spirit’s influence dissolves.

The full weight sinks into the young fairy as Gyrryth’s expression suggests severe concern and disappointment.

Lykha watches the monster squirm, crying in pain.

Coco whimpers, “Wh-What did ye do to ih’?” She looks at Lykha with fear in her eyes.

Coco is genuinely afraid.

And that fear is of Lykha.

The once-terrifying monster is yowling in agony, unable to relieve whatever pain it’s feeling.

Gyrryth says nothing, bowing his head quietly.

Lykha sinks to her knees, horrified that she caused a living thing such agony. Lighting a man on fire was hard on her, but necessary. This just feels wrong.

Mury, however, seizes the opportunity, bolting for the monster. He doesn’t hesitate to hop onto and straddle its neck, driving Kolaya’s sword in and working it side to side between its neck scales, ending the monster’s suffering as quickly as possible.

The silveryourd’s body finally relaxes, exhaling its last as Mury relaxes as well. He cleans the blade and returns it to its scabbard, dismounting the monster. He does take time to collect the shimmering chin skirts from the monster, though, which only takes him a few minutes.

The other three are where they stopped. None of them know how to address what just happened.

Mury approaches, remarking, “Nice work.”

Lykha looks up with tears in her eyes. It seems he thought Gyrryth was the one who did it, and he connects the dots. But, he still stays with the same notion, “I wasn’t aware you had such offensive capabilities. It was quite effective.”

“M-Mury…?”

He kneels, stating, “Void magic. It targets the ethereal; the soul. Unfortunately, monsters don’t have a strong ethereal connection, so damaging it doesn’t always kill them. But, we were running low on options. I incorrectly assumed the male had left.” He stands back up, saying, “Coco, I have some ideas for some new gear, if you’ll accept.”

Coco is still disheartened and worried, but she nods softly. “O’ course, Love.” Her normal energy is fizzled out.

He then says to Gyrryth, “We should go before they detect what happened.”

The lizardman spellshot nods. “Indeed. I blame myself for failing to instruct her better.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She prevented further risk.”

Lykha bolts up into the air, feeling her own weight with her magic energy expended. She shouts, “How can you say that!? That was awful! If I had known…!”

Mury looks at her in silence. She states, “I-... That’s not what I wanted! I just wanted to stop it!”

The warrior nods.

Gyrryth states softly, “The spirits are not to be trusted.”

“NO! I don’t blame them. I blame me! I just… I was so scared Mury was going to…” She halts, looking down. “I was scared someone was going to get hurt, and I didn’t know what to expect. I… I hoped…”

“You saved me.” She looks at the human warrior who stated such a bold claim with his usual calmness. “I don’t know that I’d have survived a fall this time. Mine’s the last life I’m worried about, but I am grateful. Thank you, Lykha.”

She looks down, tears still trickling out of her eyes. “I feel so awful, though…”

“Then don’t do it again. Now you know. The silveryourd is dead. Out of its misery. We all make mistakes.” He offers his hand to Coco, helping her to her feet. He adds, “I won’t ever plan for you to cast spells or do anything you are unwilling. The silveryourd is at peace now. Take your time to let it go.” The warrior then picks up the mortar, heading towards the sand cruiser, “Gyrryth, if you have anything you want to salvage from the silveryourds, feel free. We’ll bring the sandcruiser closer.”

Gyrryth nods, “Please do. I’ll go begin.”

Mury nods, and Coco jogs into step with him, glancing at Lykha briefly. Lykha hesitates softly, sniffling as she hugs herself. She turns and hovers after Gyrryth, unable to be around Mury, who doesn’t understand what she’s feeling at the moment.

As the two travel, she says to the spellshot, “I’m sorry… Gyrryth. I shouldn’t use magic I haven’t learned…”

He looks at her briefly, looking down. “I am not angered that you cast such a spell. I am disappointed that I didn’t warn you. Void magic… is not an easy burden to bear.”

“I… I’ve helped kill other things… people even… I don’t understand why this feels so much worse.”

“Because deep down, you know you destroyed a soul, not just killed it.” He quickly adds when her eyes widen in horror, “Sir Murtoa is right, though. Monsters don’t have a soul in the traditional sense, or it would have died.”

“But, it’s evil magic, isn’t it?” She hugs herself as she hovers near Gyrryth. He says quietly, “The Holy Order believes so. Additionally, it makes them concerned there are ethereal magics occuring that they have not detected.”

He looks at her finally, though, saying, “But, the spirits were here long before any of us; especially the Holy Church of the Spoken Realm. The spirit you clearly contacted is the spirit Nieolsynnys, spirit of the void. Two kinds of void magic exist; ethereal and physical. Physical void magic destroys matter. Truly. Ethereal, as you know now, destroys spiritual energy. It is not damage like anything else; it is destruction.”

“I’ll never use it again.” She hugs herself firmly, wiping tears from her eyes.

Gyrryth sighs. “There is a time and place for everything, Gentle One. These spelldusters here are void-enchanted. I carry them in case I need them. Just because you don’t like a weapon doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep it in your arsenal. It could save your life. As you did today.”

“Mury just said that…”

“I don’t think he did. He’s the type to, true, but I do think he knows how close he was this time.”

They reach the smaller silveryourd, and he remarks softly, “I will teach you more. I vow it. But, don’t think you did the wrong thing today, please. As Murtoa said, we weren’t prepared.”

She nods. “I’ll try…”

“If you wish to leave, I intend to carve this monster.”

“Do we have time? Mury said they’re coming, aren’t they?”

“The Holy Order will detect the spell, but it will take time to deploy. His implication is that we should leave before they attempt to use clairvoyance to see the area, meaning we can’t camp here. We have enough time to collect a few teeth and some meat.”

She nods softly. “I… I’ll stay… I want to learn. Truly.”

He sighs. “Very well.” He explains why he collects what he does; teeth for alchemy ingredients and smiths, as they have rather rare elements in them. Scales, because they make good thermal and impact linings in under-armor clothing, and have some acid resistance. Meat, because silveryourd meat is edible for drakyks at least, if highly tangy and gamey tasting. He also carefully extracts some of the base chemicals from its glands in its throat, which mix with its stomach acids to chemically react and become a highly corrosive acid. He expects they’ll be useful to Maerin, and Lykha helps him how she can. She feels briefly nauseous with the blood, but manages to keep her stomach settled.

It’s when they get to the male; the bigger, older silveryourd, that Lykha feels guilty. She folds her hands, praying softly.

Gyrryth says nothing, continuing his work quietly. She wants forgiveness from something that likely wouldn’t give it anyways. But, she prays nonetheless.

The sand cruiser arrives, and Mury helps load Gyrryth’s gatherings into the rear bay.

Lykha feels every nervous glance Coco gives her when they gather in the cab to head back into the village. It makes her sad that Coco of all people is afraid of her so suddenly. It’s understandable, but it was far from what Lykha intended.

Maerin, however, shows no restraint. “Eeeeyyy, Lykhie. I heards you unleashed some reals p-po- magic for once. Gla’ my teachin’s payin’ off.” As one might expect, the older fairy is tipsy and extremely physical with Lykha, though in a gentle way.

Lykha whines, “I-It’s not like that!”

“Muss be somes kind o’ way. -hic!-” She pokes Lykha’s cheek, saying, “Murmur mentioned wi’out me e’en askin’.”

Lykha blushes, looking at the human warrior. He’s still helping Gyrryth collect meat and material from the silveryourds, so he doesn’t notice her looking. But, the realization hits her once more. Her feelings are artificial; the results of a curse.

“Wha’s with that face?”

The younger fairy sighs. “Nothing.”

“‘Nothin’. PFFTT!” The more mature fairy laughs. “You’re adorgable… Ador… The thing! You know…” Maerin sips from her flask, finding it empty, and proceeding to refill it.

“It’s not real…”

“Wha’s no’? Your feels? Tha’s dumb.”

Lykha grumbles, “He gave me his blood to heal me.”

Maerin stares at her as she cranks the little pump on her liquor bottle to refill her flask. She asks dryly, “What?”

The young fairy nods. “He didn’t know better, and I only got out the ‘blood’. I meant for him to use mine.”

The older fairy sips her drink directly from the pump, sighing. “‘S that have to do with feels?”

“What do you mean?”

Maerin simply laughs. She teases in redirection, “Murmur knew what Coco is, an’ you think he’s dumb on magic?” She laughs again.

“What does that have to do with…!?” Lykha trails off, blushing furiously.

Coco whines at Maerin, “Lea’ me ou’ o’ yer gab, Baes -B-Bae! I-It’s still cheek-heatin’...” She tenderly touches one of the sides of her head where a filed-down horn is hidden under her messy hair.

Lykha wants to say something, but Coco climbs out of the vehicle, walking towards Mury and Gyrryth.

Lykha murmurs softly, “I think Coco hates me now…”

Maerin watches quietly as well. After a pause, she replies gently, “Yeah… Usuals she jumps at a -hic!- ‘tunity to tease you.”

“Sh-Should I apologize? What do I say?”

Maerin shrugs, murmuring a little sarcastically, “Lemme share all my wisdom in social sitchieations.” She feigns pulling out a notebook, flipping through imaginary pages, humming in thought. “Mmm… No… Mmm, Hmm… Ah! Yes, that could work.” She tosses her imaginary notebook over her shoulder, saying, “I got nothin’.”

The younger fairy stares at her with an exasperated frown. “A simple, ‘I don’t know’ would have sufficed.”

The more mature fairy crosses her arms. “You coul’ use a dose of cynicism time to time. You got lucky Murmur found you. Your brigh’ eyes betray you.”

Lykha sighs, “I know. Any ideas for Coco, though?”

Maerin shrugs. “Just… I dunno… Keep bein’ nice to her? She don’ say it soes much, but she likes that you care.”

Lykha blushes again for a different reason. “I-It’s not like I’m trying to mother her…”

Maerin chuckles. “Mother, sister. Either one. She was alone a long time. ‘S not easy.”

The younger fairy nods in agreement. Gyrryth drives the cruiser back to the village as Murtoa cleans and hones the blades of both swords. Maerin writes something in a small notebook. It’s probably her keeping her books straight on how much Mury owes her, or possibly some of the formulas she blended to make what she made recently. As Mury works, he also explains to Coco what he wants, and she digs through her gear bag to see what parts she has, bouncing ideas with him. He wants something to ignite fuses without expending Lykha’s spells, as well as being usable by all of them, from Maerin and Lykha’s tiny forms up to Gyrryth’s big hands.

Lykha watches all of it in admiration. Coco, specifically, is her normal self with Mury, at least, so there’s hope that she’s just nervous about the magic the young fairy used.

She doesn’t find the time to apologize or explain, though, before infectious yawns spread through the cab. It’s now very late at night, and although Gyrryth is still awake enough to drive, Lykha realizes Coco is the first asleep when her own eyelids are feeling particularly heavy. The teen is sleeping against Mury’s shoulder, and the warrior is watching the horizon quietly. Maerin is making herself comfortable on the floor in the middle. Lykha yawns again, deciding it best to rest her eyes as well.

When she wakes up, they’re already back at the village, and everyone else is already out and about. She stretches, finding that, at some point, someone covered her with a blanket. She smiles softly, folding the blanket before making her way out of the cruiser -thanks to someone leaving the passenger door open-. She isn’t worried, because she knows someone is nearby. In this case, it’s Gyrryth and Coco. The teen is cooking egg in a frying pan over an electric heater while Gyrryth prepares strips of the meat he collected.

The young fairy approaches the two, murmuring warmly, “Good morning, Gyrryth, Coco.”

Coco glances at her and nods, while the spellshot replies more warmly, “Ahhh, Lady Lykha. Good morning. Well rested?”

She nods. “Mm-hmm. Thank you.”

“Good. Good.”

Coco surprises the young fairy as she hovers near the two by the teen holding up Lykha’s plate with some scrambled eggs already prepared. The teen says seemingly timidly, “Here…”

Lykha blinks in surprise. It’s rarely a fight when Coco cooks, but she does rarely pass a chance to tease or joke, and often makes Lykha serve herself.

Lykha murmurs tenderly, “Thank you, Coco.”

The teen nods and returns to tending the eggs currently cooking.

Trying to prod the mood, Lykha asks facetiously, “This is silveryourd egg, isn’t it?”

Coco is barely audible, simply replying, “Yeah…”

The fairy slumps a little. She hovers down to the ground next to Coco, saying gently, “Coco… I… I’m sorry I scared you… I didn’t mean to… er, well, I wanted to do anything… I just didn’t know… what was going to happen. I didn’t enjoy it any more than anyone else, so… I… I won’t use void magic again.”

Coco murmurs without looking directly at her, “Th-Tha’s no’ it…”

“Talk to me, please. I… I can’t stand this… I miss the regular you…”

“You daf’ Tricksie!? I spen’ all ticks thinkin’ ye bu’ a buzza wi’h a hot sting and ye can’ sto’ me if I rival ye fer ‘Bando! I ain’ riskin’ me face melted off teasin’ a tricksie tha’ can do ih’!”

Lykha stares at her for a moment, and Gyrryth starts laughing.

Coco blushes, looking back at the eggs as she idly keeps them from sitting too idle in the pan.

Lykha murmurs, “You think… I would ever hurt you?”

“How’s’m’I ‘sposed to know? Bes’ no’ ta anga the bigge’ bruisesties aroun’.”

Lykha giggles, “I’m flattered, Coco, but seriously; that wasn’t me. I let a spirit do that.”

“Aye! Bu’ ye can.”

Gyrryth remarks playfully, “Mm… I wonder; if you think angering Lykha is a risk, then how do you think you would fare if you won in your rivalry?”

Coco tenses, surprised. Clearly, she never gave that any thought. Pink color fills her cheeks again, and she murmurs with a deflective tone, “‘Bando’s worth the risk.”

Lykha can’t help but laugh. She teases, “Well, you better bring your real skills, little miss Techromancer. Because I ain’t giving him up without a fight.”

“Ooohhh. So you finally admit it?” The new voice is Maerin as she flies back up, breathing heavily from exertion. She arrived from the village, implying that she was either shopping or otherwise running some other errand. She does sell some of her makings, just like Coco, so she ironically has one of the highest incomes in their party -because she has a more reliable income-.

The buxom fairy lands nearby walking the rest of the way as she pants, slowing to a stop to breathe heavily. She grumbles about her wings, but approaches to receive a plate from Coco as well.

Coco replies, “Right? Tricksie truthsayin’ when she has the big swatta.”

Maerin chuckles in agreement, setting into her egg with a “Thank you, Coco.” She hums in appreciation.

Lykha finally tries hers. She can tell a fair difference from normal eggs, but it’s still quite good. She hums as well, saying, “Good as always, Coco. Thank you.”

Coco smiles and nods. “Best poisons tas’e good.”

“HA-ha, Coco. Very funny.”

The teen grins deviously, but Lykha isn’t worried. Coco wouldn’t poison her worst enemies. Probably.

The young fairy realizes they’re missing one, though. “Where’s Mury?”

Maerin retorts, “Behind you two the whole time.”

Both girls jump and whirl with fiery-pink cheeks, only to discover no one. Maerin falls over laughing as Gyrryth chuckles as well.

Coco snaps at Lykha, “Why you pink-cheeked!?”

“ME!? Why are you blushing!? You have no shame!”

“W-...I-...YOU’re the ‘new truth’ spitter!”

Gyrryth interrupts the brewing brawl of words, “He apparently received a messenger and departed for a short while. He believes he shall return within two days.”

“He… left?”

Coco murmurs, “Oh… yeah, I remember him leavin’ now…”

Maerin adds, “Yep. Couple hours ago.”

“W-... Why didn’t anyone… Why aren’t we going with him?”

Maerin explains gently, “He said it was just a small errand, not a mission. Trust me, I wanted to go too, but he said we’d be better off continuing north, and he’ll catch up with us.”

“Where’s he going?”

Coco shrugs, “Southways. Took one of the tobble runnas.”

“The whats?”

Maerin fills in, “The two-wheeled vehicles.”

Gyrryth nods. “Much faster than a sand rail or cruiser. The owner let him borrow it.”

“But… Why go alone? I still don’t understand.”

The lizardman takes over the frying pan when Coco deposits eggs for him and her. He fries some of the meat, focusing on his task. Maerin finally answers, “Easier to move alone across the desert quickly. So, he must be in a hurry.”

“Why isn’t anyone more concerned about this?”

Coco asks, “What we ‘sposed to do? It’s ‘Bando.”

“That’s kinda why I’m worried.”

“Sir Murtoa will be unharmed,” assures Gyrryth as he fries the sizzling slices of meat. “It is merely a delivery.”

“Requested of a monster hunter?”

Gyrryth is quiet again, and she accuses softly, “You know what he’s doing, don’t you?”

He refuses to answer, and she’s about to pry again.

“E-Excuse me…” A young male’s voice catches the attention of all four.

He’s a young man, maybe a little older than Coco or Lykha.

“I need your help. Please. My sister has been taken.”

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