[SE] Dangling Threads

Seiji has been absent a long time.

Not — absent. He has been here. His body has been here. In the settlement, in Kiada's house, watching Auni pace the rooms and keeping the fire stoked until Longheat reached its slender fingers into every hour. After that, throwing open the windows. Stroking the tiny luxere's soft face, and promising its mistress would return. He had suspected he was telling lies, then. He had not known what to do about it.

Things are happening. Seiji cannot begin to say they are good or bad. He knows only he has not been a part of them. He has been — elsewhere. Lost somewhere between the world he left and this one. Between Longnight and the present. A part of him feels somehow as if the sun never rose. Or as if he is still underground, listening to the tear-stained voice of that monster, wondering.

It is wonder at last which brings him to the Guildhall. He should have come before, he thinks. He needs to see someone, anyone. To talk and to laugh and to find himself in the flesh and blood of his living body. He needs answers, too. So he stalks through the Atheneum on light feet, each stride all but soundless, and today he is alone. Auni remains in the house, as always. Waiting, as always. Perhaps when Seiji returns, Kiada will be there as well, and all will be well, and he will not do battle with this lump of doubt, like poison, lingering in his belly.

He hopes for this.

But as he pushes open the door to the Guildhall, he does not feel much hope. Only a resigned sort of emptiness. He hopes he will find the fire burning inside. Will find Jigano, or perhaps Amalia, in one of the chairs. He hopes they will recognize him and spring up. He hopes it will be joy greeting him, and not anger. "Hello?" he calls, tentative. If no one answers, he will turn back and go up the stairs and find something else to do. Somewhere to bury his troubles, perhaps. Though Seiji has never done such a thing before. He harbors an almost compulsive need to grapple immediately with what ails him. To grab his demons by the throat and examine them at length while they lay prone.

Someone must be home.

It had been a summer of doing. Of losing and finding, laughing and making, snarling and singing, baking and hunting. There was a whole new world to explore, but that world wasn't very hospitable to outsiders, as it turned out. Nevertheless, there were no books with any details on the Fae in the Atheneum, and any information on the Wildwood was centuries out of date. Much of the Provost's time had been spent out among the trees and fields, glades and groves, rivers and lakes of both the Hollowed Grounds and the Greatwood as he pursued his calling and sought answers to questions they had only begun to ask.

There were dangers there, and not all came with the obvious trappings of teeth and claws.

Longheat was aptly named, however, the sun pounding down upon the parched, weary earth of the Hollowed Grounds and pummeling poor northerners like Jigano with merciless rays that left him a sweating, limp bundle of fur, feathers, or skin - no matter which form he wore. Today, at least, he had chosen to hide in the soothing shadows of the Guildhall, the underground chamber deliciously cool compared to the air above. His pen scratched quietly over a page in his journal as he recorded his latest endeavors, while small Isuma, still barely larger than a small cat, stretched full length upon the flagtones and dozed fitfully.

She perked up at the sound of the door opening, however, a quiet peep of warning enough to get her companion's attention, and Jigano blinked owlishly up from his work, shaking a cramp from his hand as he peered at the bottom of the stairs, wondering if Amalia was perhaps bringing snacks, or Killian had found a new treasure to share--

He hadn't expected the dark-haired young man who appeared, and it took him a moment to realize that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. "Seiji?" he called, pushing his chair back and slowly rising, surprise and pleasure coloring his voice and smile both. "Seiji, I'm glad to see you! Please, come in. Would you like tea?" He was already bustling towards the hearth and the cooling teapot to heat the water again, eager to provide hospitality to a friend he hadn't seen in far too long. "Do you have time to sit and talk awhile? I'd like to catch up if..." he hesitated, glancing back to the other man with a wry, lopsided smile as he realized he was being selfish in his curiosity, and far too overbearing for the quiet Outlander. "Ah, forgive me. You probably came here with a purpose, didn't you? How can the Loreseekers be of service to you today?"

It was, of course, Jigano who looked up at the sound of the door creaking inward. Jigano, his hair like a river of moonlight even in this underground place, whose voice rang of joyous familiarity. Jigano, in so many ways the same: nimble and full of thought, quick to spring for the teapot, eager to welcome an old friend.

A slow smile unfurls across Seiji's features, crinkling the corners of his dark eyes. He recognizes now the trepidation he felt before, but he sees it only as it falls away. All worry banished in a flurry of moments, the familiar offer of a warm drink, a chat between friends. So they are still friends (of course they are). And the guild hall looks the same, smells the same, feels the same, its cool darkness now a balm against the stifling heat. "Please." Seiji responds with a nod to the offer of tea, and of conversation both. He moves in just enough to shut the door behind him, his eyes flicking from Jigano to study the room.

It is as Seiji remembers. The walls of books, the desks stalwart under their coverings of paper and sprawled volumes. Seiji's eyes catch on the griffin and linger there, something sparking in their depths, though he makes no comment. He recognizes her, though perhaps he only recognizes her kind. He has other, more important thoughts vying to a place on the tip of his tongue, and so this one will have to wait.

"No," Seiji says, smiling and shaking his head. "You need no forgiveness from me." He is, truthfully, delighted by the warm welcome. Seiji makes no effort to hide it as he strides across the space, his presence soft as always. "It is good to see you again." So much has happened since their last meeting. To find the guild hall like this, steadfast, is a greater balm than Seiji could even have imagined.

He pauses now, his expression faltering just a hair. The shadow of a frown draws taut between his brows. "So much is happening," he says. "The Spire and... everything. I'm glad you are well." Briefly the smile returns, emphatic. "I thought the Loreseekers might know... better than me... how things are changing these days."

Seiji's absence had been one of several, people who had drifted close to the bard and then away again as the currents of their lives took them down different streams for a while. Some, like Vervain, had expressed interest in the Guild and then never found the time. Others had seemed to hold the seeds of friendship in a few early encounters and then found that their interests took them elsewhere. Seeing Seiji's name upon the Artist's Guild door had left a bittersweet pang in his chest as he thought his friend had slipped away to greener pastures, but he could hardly blame him. The Loreseekers had developed a bit of a habit of getting into trouble in their search for answers, and an artist's guild was a far safer, calmer place.

The lorekeeper's smile widened at the acceptance of tea, the hot beverage unexpectedly comfortable in the cool of the underground Hall. He bustled about making it as Isuma padded curiously over to examine Seiji's feet, sleek and well-feathered with her juvenile molt fully in and her adult colors beginning to show in the blues of her primaries and around her eyes. She reep!ed again, a cheerful greeting as she looked up at the young man, golden eyes silently pleading for scritches.

"I am glad to see you well, too," Jigano smiled back at his friend as greetings were exchanged. The furrowed brow faded his smile a little towards concern and he tilted his head to the side as he waited patiently for Seiji to put his thoughts into words. The request was somewhat unexpected... but then again, perhaps not. He nodded thoughtfully as he moved to one of the overstuffed chairs near the fireplace, close enough to tend the water as it boiled and the pot thereafter. "We've had our fingers in a few of the pies, yes," he agreed with a wry smile. "Where would you like me to begin? Before or after the fall of the Barrier?" Perhaps BF - Barrierfall - would be the new way they would mark time in the future?

Seiji sits quietly under the griffin's inquisitive gaze. His head tilts, and for a moment he is content to look at her. He wonders to himself how common such things are, here in Caido. Soon, though, she is looking up at him, a plaintive question in her wide eyes, and smiling, Seiji reaches forward to brush long fingers delicatly across her cheek, as if she is a cat. She is, after all, approaching something feline.

He is still preoccupied with the young griffin when Jigano speaks again, and then Seiji lifts his head and blinks. He takes a moment to digst the information, his fingers pausing, before he straightens up. A wry grin creases his mouth. ...a few of the pies. He has no doubt Jigano's inquisitive blue eyes have seen many things his own have not. Of course, Seiji suspects many people these days will have seen things he has missed.

He makes his way over to a chair near Jigano before he speaks again, casting an inquisitive look at the griffin as he sits. His every movement speaks of stillness, collected poise. He has been so withdrawn, these past few weeks. Seiji feels almost as if Longnight marked him in some invisible, irrevocable way. As if a part of him still sits in the dark. "Before, maybe," he says, meeting Jigano's eyes. "It seems like it happened very quickly. People fighting near the Spire, and then..." he sighs. His hands flutter in a vague, uncertain gesture. Then the barrier was gone.

"I heard there is a forest," he says thoughtfully, "but I have not seen it." He falls silent then, waiting patiently for any forthcoming explanation. And yet there is much Seiji does not say — much weighing on his mind. The echoes of Longnight, the creature underground, Kiada's absence. All coalescing around him, tightening like a noose.

Isuma's face might have been more owl-like than cat-like, but she happily pushed her cheek into the stroking fingers, purring approval until he pulled away again. She followed him to his new perch, hopping up on the arm of the chair to continue her importuning for attention as he asked his questions and Jigano made himself comfortable as well, grinning briefly at the gryphlet's antics. "Well... hmm. I suppose you know that a group of Outlanders decided to attack the Spire Demon?" he asked cautiously. "Something that had been talked about before, to be sure, but when the time came down to it, it was an Outlander who spearheaded the attack, and he brought only other Outlanders with him. This caused some anger from the Naturals..." The bard paused and sighed, glancing down at his hands. "Not without reason, I think. They spent generations losing friends and family to it, and then were denied the chance to be part of the attack. Many among them didn't even want the attack to happen at all, and risk losing more friends. In the end the Demon destroyed itself - exploded itself, somehow - and killed Ronin in the bargain." He looked up again, smiling wryly.

"That would have been bad enough, if we had been given time to mourn and think about what we wanted to do next as a group. The Outlander-only attack had opened rifts between Naturals and Outlanders and much needed to be done to rebuilt the trust and working relationships between the two people. But one of Ronin's people, a woman named Roana, was impatient and greedy for glory. She gathered another group of Outlanders and announced that she would be breaking open the Spire and destroying the barrier from within." He sighed and shook his head, pausing to pull the whistling kettle off the hearth and pour the water into the pot with its apple-flavored tea leaves to steep.

"Where was I? Ah yes, Roana. The gods had dropped enough hints that the barrier existed for a reason - that reason being, to keep the Ascended and their gods inside and away from the rest of Caido, after what Safrin said was a failed war against the old gods three hundred years ago. Many Naturals were upset by this announcement. They had lived here all their lives, but weren't being allowed a voice in their own destiny or what happened to their world, and their gods. Some wanted the barrier to remain, to respect the gods. Others didn't know what to do about the barrier, but wanted everyone to slow down and think things through before any rash actions were taken. Others maybe didn't care about the barrier at all, but were sick of Outlanders insulting their intelligence and trying to dictate their lives to them, and protested that aspect of Roana's attempt to impose her will on us all." The bard shrugged, face caught in somber lines as he remembered those days.

"The Naturals gathered, a hundred or more, and formed a living barrier around the Spire so Roana couldn't access it. She and her cronies blustered and threatened - threatened violence and death against someone... someone very dear to me, who had been forced into leading the defenders, because no one else could. In the end they realized it was futile, that they would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers if they tried to attack the defenders, and one by one they slipped away, even Roana in the end. But... in the end it mattered not at all." Now the bard sighed, and his smile tilted wryly, though without humor. "The Voice, goddess of the Ascended, caused the defenders to fall into an enchanted slumber that night, and her children were able to open the Spire and gain access within. Some died. Some were badly hurt. Sacrifices were made... but in the end they succeeded in freeing the Voice or... something else like her, and bringing down the Barrier at the same time. But I think it's safe to say that the gods weren't thrilled with what happened that night," he finished softly, pouring the mugs and offering one to Seiji, waiting to see if he had any questions before continuing further.

Seiji is quiet as the words unfold. His expression is quiet, his dark eyes studious, hungry, as Jigano fills in the gaps in his knowledge. That someone had attacked the demon, had won.... That Ronin had fallen with it... He had wondered. His thoughts turn briefly back to Ronin's kindness in the cold, the worn pack and the slightly oversized coat. Can Seiji truly grieve a stranger? But he does, even if only because the life was carelessly lost. Interests jostling against each other.

And he has seen the way some of the Naturals look at him. Has heard the muttering. He was aware of the commotion, dimly, but he never visited the Spire while it took place. He missed... most of this. Keeping to the house and making necessary repairs. Pretending he might be safe again.

Perhaps he had never been safe.

"I do not know much about these gods," Seiji says at last. But it seems cruel to have trapped so many people in here with the Voice, if she is evil. "Safrin..." Seiji's brows draw together, and he presses the fingertips of one hands against his lips, as if sealing the thought inside. What was he about to say? I do not trust Safrin? Why?

Because doubt nibbles the edges of his thoughts. Doubt, black and noisome and growing. He is not supposed to be here; he was never supposed to come. He does not wish to be involved in wars, in strange gods and stranger religions. He shakes his head, as if dismissing the thought, his dark eyes leaping back up to Jigano's face. He longs to ask the other man what he makes of all this. If he judges it one way or another, or if he holds himself apart, recording the facts and watching. "I am sorry," Seiji adds, "Someone you care for was threatened. Are they well?"

"Amalia knows far more than I," Jigano said, smiling at the thought of his heartsister, bold and pious. "But I have learned a little, both on my own and at her side." He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of the tea to center himself as he organized his thoughts. "There are three Old Gods. Vi, god of life and creation. Mort, god of death and the afterlife. And Rae, god of nature and change. It was Rae who either gave the Abandoned their magic, or at least nurtured it when it manifested on its own. I'm not entirely clear on that part." He tilted his head to the side, smiling at Isuma's antics as she bumped her head against Seiji's arm to comfort him as his brow furrowed in thought. "Each of them also created a... I call them 'herald' gods, but perhaps they could as easily be called minor deities. They are gods in their own right, but they serve the will of their creators. Safrin, who is Vi's daughter. Ludo, who collects souls for Mort. And Frey who... well. Encourages, ah, life and reproduction in all its pleasures at Rae's direction." He gave Seiji a lopsided smile before continuing.

"What we've discovered through old records is that, somewhere along the way, the mages - who were initially called 'Acquired' - grew powerful enough to challenge the old gods. They augmented themselves somehow, using their magic to do so... and then they began augmenting non-mages as well, to serve as soldiers in an army that they raised to bring themselves to power. I don't know much of these younger gods, or how many survive... but for certain, we know that the Voice is one such. She acquired such power that she became a godling in her own right. And the Old Gods... well. They apparently couldn't destroy her, so instead they trapped her... within the Spire, within the Barrier that was raised to isolate her from the rest of the world." He sighed, sipping his tea with a faint grimace - not for the taste, but for the bitter knowledge they had gained.

"Rory wonders if those originally trapped within the Barrier were mages - Abandoned, who had supported the new gods in their bid for power. That, we don't know for sure. What we do know is that the Old Gods sent their heralds into the barrier to be trapped with the Voice and the descendants of those original prisoners, to offer what comfort they could and to help keep her in check. At some point, the Voice was... I don't know. Sent to sleep, somehow, or went into hibernation, and her powers over those within the barrier waned, as did the records and memories of the following generations. But she wasn't entirely powerless... when the Spire was breached and the Voice was freed, she claimed to be the one who has brought Outlanders to Caido over the years. As a means to free her, to break her cage as the Naturals didn't have the power or desperation to do. And... it worked." He shrugged, smile turning a little sad. "And we will all learn, eventually, what price our freedom will cost."

Seiji's empathy was appreciated, the lorekeeper's smile lightening back towards true happiness as he nodded. "He is. As is Ronin. A miracle whose tale I don't fully know the details of, but Safrin brought him back and gave him a second chance at life, for which many are grateful." Including the Provost, though he had not really begun to speak to the new demigod until after his unexpected return to the living. It was nice to have a friend to trade puns with, though. "And that would bring us around to the Forest... unless you have any questions on what I've told you so far?"

Seiji holds his silence as Jigano continues to speak. A bookend to match the conversation begun with Amalia when Seiji last ventured down into the guildhall. He stills still, his fingers pressed to his mouth, until Isuma’s protests get the better of him. Then, his mouth quirked with charm and amusement both, he reaches out to stroke her sleek feathers, his dark eyes warm.

He should have much to think on after this. But he finds he all passes him by, like a story of some distant place. Like a fairytale. What does Seiji care about the stakes of strange gods? About a war between factions with no interest in him? If this is true, if he was brought here to help with a task now finished, a task he had no part in… The furrow between his brows deepens.

“So we are still trapped here?” he asks, one eyebrow raised above its brother. He sighs. “Do you think she is… bad? The Voice?” Do you think it was right? He means. Seiji does not approach gods with awe. He approaches with respect, with a healthy dose of caution, but with a practicality, as well. It does not occur to him to think in any other way, at the present moment.

His eyes widen in surprise at the mention of Ronin, but soon he is smiling. “I met Ronin,” he says, quiet but clearly cheered. “He helped me.” And asked for nothing in return. Seiji thinks of apples, of the pale dragonling, and his smile lingers. “I am glad your friend is well, too,” he adds, though it isn’t the main topic of conversation. “I would like to hear what you know about the forest,” he adds with a nod. This is what he came here to ask, really. Though as he sits, sipping at his mug, the sweet taste of apple and spice filling his mouth, he thinks he would not be anywhere else. He thinks… he ought to have come here sooner.

Isuma purred under the young man's touch, wriggling in delight before she eeled her way into his lap and curled up to receive her dues, paid in attention and pets. "If you mean that we are trapped on this world, then yes," Jigano confirmed with a nod, admiring Seiji's clever eyebrows. "Though the barrier has fallen, and so we are not trapped here, within it anymore." He tilted his head wryly, granting the facts a nod. "Trapped in different ways, though, yes. Great storms rage to the south and west, constraining where we may go."

The question asked then was not an easy one, and Jigano paused to think it over, choosing his words with care. "The Voice... I do not trust her," he said at last, meeting Seiji's eyes solemnly. "I do not know the original Old Gods beyond Amalia's stories of them and what I have read in Safrin's books, and of their heralds I will admit that both Ludo and Frey have reputations for caprice. But... my experience with the Voice is that she does not trust or... necessarily like those she cannot turn into one of her children. Abandoned and Attuned, and those who were never human to begin with. With her power weakened and her children few she has not made any hostile moves against anyone that I have seen, but if she were smart - and I believe she is - she will instead hoard her resources and grow her people before she attempts another coup."

Respect and caution are exactly the traits Jigano would urge in approaching the gods, if only he knew what Seiji was thinking. The gods of Caido differed greatly from those of his own world, and he still wasn't entirely used to having his prayers answered quite so... promptly.

The bard's smile flashed, bright as sunrise at hearing that Seiji and Ronin had gotten along. He wasn't terribly surprised, given what he knew of the Guildmaster, but it still pleased him to know that his young friend had been helped by the kindly (if brash) monster hunter. His smile remained, softening as he bowed his head in acknowledgment of his guest's well wishes for Rory, the hunter who had tamed a fox's fractured heart.

"The Forest..." Jigano mused, taking a larger drink of his tea as it cooled to a more tolerable temperature. "The Greatwood, it's called. And the Wildwood. Wild, for it has a will of its own, and a vegetative sort of sentience. It's a place of great magic, with trees that move and shift about. For outsiders, like us humans, it will turn us around and spit us back out after a few hundred feet of walking, unless you find the trick of it," he amended with a chuckle. "It is a vast place, filled with wonders and dangers, some similar to the ones here, and others new. Perhaps most dangerous of all are the Fae, a race of small, winged folk who wield powerful magic and are mighty warriors..." he paused, grimacing slightly. "And who, unfortunately, have little use for humans who intrude on their domain." He shrugged lightly, smile wry. "Not all of them, thankfully! But their warchief, Delah, is... hmm. Wisely paranoid, I think. She doesn't like humans, and many of her people take their cue from her. We are not welcome in their Village, and if she had her way, we wouldn't be welcome in the Woods at all." Again he paused, giving Seiji time to think about all that he had said and begin to form his own ideas and questions.

Jigano answers with far more information than expected. Seiji nods, imagining as he speaks a legion of tiny warriors, a fortress of trees. This is both better and worse than the previous confines of the barrier. Living, sentient creatures may be reasoned with. But he doesn't truly wish to reason at all. Only to leave.

"You have learned so much," Seiji says at last. He is glad to have the young Griffin in his lap, giving his hands something to do. "It must have been difficult." He feels a little reassured to learn of Jiganos hesitation, similar doubts to his own put into words between them. Seiji is aware now that he trusts Jigano, so much as he trusts anybody in this place.

"The Loreseekers are busy?" He asks. Not so much a question as a statement, a way of leading toward his next question. This one he should have asked some time ago, when last he found himself in this comfortable hall, before the crackle of flames. "I would like to join you, if I can," he adds, his voice calm despite the slight increase in his pulse. "Do you need… more? I am tired of doing nothing. Knowing nothing."

The empathy from the young man was no longer quite so unexpected. Seiji was a quiet young man, but an insightful one. He spoke little, but his eyes saw much, and Jigano bowed his head in acknowledgment of his friend's understanding. "It was," he said quietly. "There were times of great danger, and great fear. There is a great trove of knowledge here, in the Atheneum to rediscover, and it is mostly safe... but sometimes the lore we gather must be done out in the world, among all the unknowns, both good and bad. Which hopefully will become knowns, and which we can then warn or regale others about when they go out." His smile was a little crooked as he sipped his tea after that, and Isuma peeped sleepy reassurance at both men.

The request to join came as a bit of a surprise after the young man's months of absence, but after a moment's thought, Jigano nodded slowly. It took time to get used to a new world, and without memories, Seiji would have had a more confusing time than most. Not knowing where he came from or what experiences had shaped him in his life before Caido... No, it wasn't strange at all that he had retreated into himself for a time, to find an equilibrium and a sense of who he was and what he wanted.

"We would be honored to have your insight," Jigano said solemnly. "And we always need more." His solemnity cracked a little as his lips quirked into a wry smile. He stood as he talked, voice rising to be heard as he disappeared into his office for a moment. "To go through the books and scrolls of naturals and outlanders who came before us, so we don't spend so much time chasing after things that were once known and lost to time... and - ah, here they are - and loreseekers to go out into the world and explore, expanding on everything new that can't be found in these dusty tomes." He returned a moment later with an object held in his hand, one that he offered to Seiji with a smile. It was a circular pin, a copper disc with a silver book set upon it, pages open and rays of silver light flashing from them. "Here. The symbol of our Guild. Welcome to the Loreseekers, Seiji. I think you will do very well here. If you come up with some interests that you would like to specialize in, we'll add that to your page in the Guild Chronicle," he added with a smile.

Somehow, Seiji does not expect it to be so easy. Simply this: sitting with a friend, asking a question. He gently pushes Isuma off his lap as he stands to receive the pin, surprise written on his soft features. Delicately, he takes the pin, and turns it this way and that studying the design. The miniature book, the rays of light. His smile returns. But he does not fasten it anywhere; not yet. He thinks to put it in his breast pocket alongside another pin, one he carries now but does not wear. He thinks Jigano may take some offense to this, though, so he merely stands holding it for now, joy clear in his eyes. "Thank you," he says. The smile lingers in his voice as well. "I want to help, as much I can." he adds with a vehement nod. This inertia does no good. If he cannot serve himself, if he knows of no way to serve himself, he can serve others. He has never been content to sit in ignorance.

"I was a musician," Seiji says a little absently. "Before." He cannot remember if he told Jigano this or not. He could not have been certain, in the days after he first arrived. Everything had come jumbled together, a tangle of thoughts and emotions, new things intermingling with old. "But," he adds, and the shadow of a frown dims his otherwise buoyant expression, "I would like to explore, too. I want to learn more about Caido." He has never been a man for sitting silently in the corner while others did work. Not even with fear gripping his heart. Not even if the fear is only a mask for sorrow.

"If you need anything..." Seiji tilts his head, expression thoughtful. "You have helped me very much. I would like to help others the same way. Especially now."

"And that is why you will make an excellent Loreseeker," Jigano said gently, smiling at Seiji's desire to help with the warmth of one who knew how the other man felt. Isuma balanced on the arm of the chair she had been moved to, rising up on her hind legs with her wings half-spread for balance as she reep!ed her own congratulatory welcome to the newest member of their guild.

At hearing that Seiji was a musician the bard's eyes lit up. It was a sign that the young man's memories were returning, he hoped, but also another thread connecting them. He drew in a breath to speak, but then held it as he waited. He had already learned that the newest loreseeker spoke slowly, carefully, and that there was sometimes more to come. His patience was rewarded and his smile softened with his nod of acceptance - and agreement.

"We have much in common," he said quietly, reining back his penchant for more exuberant emoting in respect for Seiji's quieter nature. "As I am also given to exploring... and to music. What instruments do you favor?" He hesitated a moment, and then his smile faded as he held a finger up in warning. "But if you go north, please be careful. During our first trip into the Wildwood Delah and her warriors captured a number of us, Loreseekers and allies alike, and threw them into a pit. She was not interested in talking, or in the excuse of our ignorance. Amalia was rescued by the fall of a young starwhale who bonded to her, and the Fae regard that union with respect, but that was a miracle unlikely to be repeated. And Arduinna, a Wild Fae who Delah is willing to listen to, allowed myself and a few others to reach the Village and retrieve the rest. But every time we step into the Wildwood is a risk that it will happen again." He paused, his solemn expression lightening somewhat. "I can hardly stop you from going, not when I continue to do so myself but... take precautions, if you do."