A Bored Lich

Lord Mech strutted at the head of the meeting table, off-handedly displaying a portion of the fine silks and linen that his city was capable of producing. He was no model. He was not fat nor skinny, and the stress of the past few weeks alone had earned him a few more streaks of gray in his beard. He theorized that, despite his lacking features, only good eyes would notice the quality of his garments, simple they might have been. Good eyes meant good business.

"The Fracture has caused a change in the winds," Lord Mech began, sweeping his gaze across the representatives before him. "As winter recedes, the people usually go to the market. Why is this? It is because their food storages have run dry and they need seeds to sow their fields.

Therein lies the problem: there is no market. Attacks on an unprecedented level have torn them all down. The consumers are scared. With the War Monks gone and our military weakened, we find ourselves relying on hired hands. These temporary solutions are not cheap and guess who has to pay for them?"

He had the ears of the entire room. Just a few more choice words and…

A door flew open, drawing the attention heads away from Lord Mech, who cursed under his breath: "Can't you see we are in the middle of…Sir Zashil?"

Sir Zashil wore his usual attire; worn pants, sandals, and a fur overcoat to hide his two scimitars, both imported from his home country of Prin. He barely spared the representatives a look as he strolled towards Lord Mech, his lean, wiry form standing tall above the rest. "My lord, I need an audience with you," he said in a thick accent.

Lord Mech let out a sigh as he could almost feel the representatives' curiosity silently crumble away. "If only your etiquette was as good as you are with a blade. What is it?"

"The young Elero Mech, my lord," Sir Zashil explained. He finally realized he needed to bow, though it was much too late.

"She's back?" Lord Mech gasped, forgetting all about the meeting. He nearly knocked over one of the representatives as he hurried towards the door.

"Lord Mech, what is happening?" a representative asked.

Lord Mech would have waved him off but that would have been plain irresponsible as a host. He motioned towards a maid: "Have some servants tend to them in the meantime. I have an important matter to deal with." He shut the door behind him and followed behind Sir Zashil down the manor's hallways.

"This is far enough," Sir Zashil said. He scanned the surroundings with silver life essence around his eyes. "No one is present."

"Well, where is she?" Lord Mech asked. "Is she ok? You escorted her back, did you not?"

"She said to give this to you," Sir Zashil said, not bothering to answer any questions. He held out a letter for Lord Mech to tear open, turn over, and read aloud.

"Dear mom and dad,

The Wyverns you sent to us are so much better, albeit a bit more screechy, than the run-down carriage that the magic academy had given us. Thanks! Unfortunately, I need to take them elsewhere. I know I said I would come home, but people have come after us. I don't want to lead them to you (also heads up some War Monk spies are coming after you). Trust me, I really, REALLY wanted to show you something when I got back…but yeah, I'm sorry. I can't say when it'll be over, where I am, or even what I'm doing. I can say that I am fine and I can take care of myself, so don't worry.

Love,

Oh wait. Don't blame Master Zashil for not remembering anything. He's not incompetent, as we both know very well. My friend is just good at what he does. I'll try to send you another letter (and maybe return the Wyverns, but don't count on it). Please don't worry about me. I am walking forward on my own two feet.

Love,

Elero"

Lord Mech sighed, "Yet another person who needs to work on their etiquette."

"Yet you are smiling." Sir Zashil pointed out the grin creeping across his face.

"So are you. I don't think anyone has ever seen you smile before."

Sir Zashil shrugged: "How can I not? Not only is she "walking forward", but she also pulled one over on me."

"You don't remember?" Lord Mech asked, his smile fading.

Sir Zashil shook his head. "I remember riding out with five Wyverns in the morning, and then suddenly it's the afternoon and I'm here. I-I do not know what became of the other four Wyverns nor why I felt the compulsion to give you this letter. I promise I am not concealing anything. How should we proceed?"

Lord Mech clenched his fists. "Set some traps for the rats. As my daughter…what do you think?"

"How would I know more than her father?" Sir Zashil awkwardly bowed.

"You trained her," Lord Mech rebuked. "I know that she and I fell apart somewhat after…the incident."

Sir Zashil and Lord Mech took a moment each to pause.

"She is a strong-willed person, even after what happened," Sir Zashil began. "She said she would find how to walk again, even after so many failures, and she did it. If she is doing something else, you can bet she has put a lot of thought into it. Now that she can walk, I only fear for her enemies. Having said this, I do not think my response will matter to someone as paranoid as yourself."

A rueful smile surfaced on Lord Mech's face. "Report after you have run a thorough inspection on all of our guards. I want information about her whereabouts on my desk by sundown."

Sir Zashil nodded. "My lord, why not just let her be and respect her wishes?"

Lord Mech stepped forward and stared him in the eyes. "I will not risk having to bury another child. Do you understand me?"

Sir Zashil nodded. "I will get to work."