Cyran flushed in embarrassment at Caedes’s accusation that he would be engaging in such… salacious acts in public. He cleared his throat, struck with the sudden urge to put an end to this charade once and for all. “Vakker and I are not presently engaged, physically or romantically.” He said, taking a sip of the wine that Vakker had bought for him, and mindlessly reaching out for the skewer that Vakker had offered, taking a bite, and…

Oh, he was doing it again!

“One would think that being married would give you an advantage when dealing with annoying suitors…” Cyran muttered to himself in elvish, shoulders slumping in defeat. At this point, there would be no convincing Caedes- or Veliky, for that matter- that there was no real relationship between them. That ship, for lack of a better term, had sailed.

Not that it mattered, because the quarterling had pulled herself out of the water, so deep in thought that she’d seemingly tuned the rest of the world out. Was that normal for her? Cyran didn’t know her well enough to make such an assessment, though based on the way Caedes seemed confused, this was out of the norm for her.

It was time to change the subject. Cyran glanced around the hot springs in an attempt to find a new subject of discussion, when his eyes landed on Charlotte and Veliky’s automaton. Charlotte was rather cute- some might have been bothered by the spider, Cyran found her charming.

“It looks like Charlotte’s made a friend.” He observed, sounding maybe a touch too desperate, just grateful for something new to latch onto. “She looks happy.”

The tension in Veliky's shoulders vanishes for no apparent reason. She releases a held breath, and her eyes immediately return to their half-closed state. She half-covers her mouth an lets out a long, high-pitched yawn.

"Affirmative." Stalker's one-pitched voice draws her attention, waking her. It's still facing Charlotte. "I am designed to possess exceptional balance. By distributing my weight equally among each of my eight legs, I am able to create a buoyant force that is greater than my own weight, generating floatation."

It seems Stalker was able to interpret Charlotte's words despite her especially quiet murmurs. Veliky looks on at the interaction, blinking in bewilderment.

"Report: this ability has been programmed into my locomotion protocols since my creation. However, it is attainable by most arachnids. Analysis: I believe that you can attain this ability through practice."

Veliky's face seems, at once, full of bemusement and understanding. Then, she does something else that's highly unusual for her: she giggles. She obviously tries to stifle it, hiding her lightened cheeks with her hand, but it's just obvious enough to be detected. She then turns to Caedes, and beckons him to bring his ear close, where she whispers,

"Sometime after the Ball, Stalker made a request to have its optimal audio range lowered from 30-100 to 20-90, so that it could hear quieter sounds. Its battle-data indicated that this would improve its 'information gathering' capabilities." She looks on at the two arachnids with a certain warmth, though it's difficult to tell if it comes from amusement or something more wholesome. "...Don't take it the wrong way. Its claim is probably honest; if it had difficulty understanding Charlotte during their first encounter, then its analytics would've determined a lower range to be tactically superior. Still cute as Hell, though."

"It looks like Charlotte's made a new friend. She looks happy."

Stalker glides about in the water to face Cyran.

"Civilian Cyran, report: a friend is a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection. I am not a person and am incapable of-"

"Belay that explanation, Stalker." There's a subtle sternness in her face and tone that Stalker knows to obey.

The mechanical arachnid/arachnid mechanism only chirps in acknowledgment, ceasing its insensitive definition.

“... Uh-huh.” His agreement is lackadaisical, spoken in a flat tone that suggests disbelief; but he isn’t going to push it any further. He takes an idle sip of his drink while Vakker corners him about Zarius. The changeling’s eyes narrow— partially because Vakker’s explanation seems strange— but also partially because the wine tastes like licking a freshly cleaned floor.

Not that he has ever licked a freshly cleaned floor, but a good metaphor takes the imagination a long way when describing the taste of something as foul.

He breathes a sigh through his nose while he moves his glass away from his lips, allowing the width to cradle against his palm over the water. Close friends? he considers Vakker’s words with slightly furrowed brows; he feigns his gaze drifting off to the side in thought. Even if Vakker is telling the truth, Zarius certainly could have been lying; but, it’s best to further whatever narrative Zarius had put forth without… well, too much information.

“Close friends or what-have-you, the man doesn’t have me on a leash.” he jests, trying to relax his shoulders with the recommendation. He supposes he is here to try and relax, but he doesn’t want to let his guard down too much around a man he assumes is not the most honourable. Still, it might be best to follow along until he inevitably absconds out of second-hand embarrassment for the curious public displays of affection happening in front of him. “He can go where he likes, as can I, and… well, coincidences happen, don’t they?”

Meanwhile, Charlotte leans forwards, thin tendrils taking her a few inches closer to the rock pool, and Stalker. “Really?” she asks, curious. “^{You think even I could…?}” Her tiny voice catches Caedes’ attention. She shuffles her eight legs, like she’s dismissing a small wave of anxiety; her thin tendrils take her a few inches closer to the rock pool. “^{Do you think you could teach me?}” Her voice gets even quieter, “You’re really good at it...”

She definitely doesn’t seem to understand what ‘programmed’ means.

He takes a breath, a sudden soft giggle interrupts the otherwise quiet murmur of the springs. He throws Veliky a surprised look, but it fades as the quarterling beckons him close. He leans over, listening to her quiet whispers. “... Pfft.” he laughs beneath his breath, lopsided grin quirking the corners of his lips up; there is something artificially heartwarming about that. “That’s... yeah, that's cute as hell.” he agrees, throwing the spiders a glance, before looking at Cyran.

Suddenly, Stalker starts going off— and for a moment, a tiny look of dread flashes across Caedes’ face; Veliky interrupts before Stalker can finish, however. Charlotte, none the wiser, looks at the quarterling, before looking back expectantly at Stalker, her eight legs shuffling in anticipation.

“Good call.” he whispers to Veliky; he looks back at Cyran, his smile softer. “Charlotte hasn’t had a lot of opportunities to meet other Prismatics; she wasn’t exactly… born, in the wild, with them. Some pretty unsavoury people had a hold on her before I found her.”

Vakker was stunned for a moment by what he'd heard. After recollecting himself, he looked at Cyran with a look of shock and indignation, his smile wiped from his face in the blink of an eye. Cyran had said something in Elvish, probably in the hopes of not actually being understood by anyone nearby, but Vakker had learned how to speak and understand the language a long time ago. He understood what Cyran had just muttered and didn't like it.

"You're married?" he said back to Cyran in Elvish as he slid away from Cyran along the edge of the pool, giving the Elf a look of disapproval. "You could have just said that earlier. I'm not some home wrecker." he continued, sounding absolutely scandalized.

The Satyr felt like he was the one that had been toyed with now. He may have done a lot of morally questionable things, but he'd never gotten between a married couple before. He much preferred pushing people together rather than tearing them apart. He was frustrated now. He'd been having fun, and now it felt wrong.

He looked away from Cyran and at the scene unfolding between the spider and the spider bot. Well, at least this was pretty cute even if it was between spiders. He didn't think a novel about spiders would sell very well, but maybe one about a human and a robot? He could think about it later. For now, he took a new skewer from the side of the pool and began to eat in earnest this time, not planning to try any tricks with Cyran anymore. He turned his attention back to trying to push Zarius and Caedes together.

"Of course, coincidences certainly do happen. So, Zarius said at the ball that he was an adventurer. Are you one as well? Did you two meet on an adventure?" he asked, looking to Caedes.

He did not expect Vakker to suddenly jolt away from him as if burnt, nor did he suddenly expect the satyr to blurt out that particular tidbit of information. His surprise that Vakker spoke elvish was undercut by the fact that he had just revealed it to the entire group, rather loudly in fact, and now he could feel everyone’s eyes on him, curious, accusing.

If their earlier game had embarrassed him, Cyran was now utterly red with shame now. Idly, he twisted his finger where the accursed wedding ring once sat, not out of love, but out of obligation. That particular shackle had been removed, but its effects still lingered.

He refused to look anyone in the eyes as he spoke, so flustered that he didn’t even notice that Vakker had said all that in Elvish and that none of the others would understand, ashamed that everyone else present would think him an adulterer.

“I… was once wed,” He swallowed. His back ached with a familiar phantom pain that often plagued him when he thought about her. “But not anymore. She passed away around ten years ago. It was an arranged affair- no feelings.” Then, quieter, he muttered, “I would not toy with someone like that.”

But it was too late- Cyran had already killed the good mood. He sighed, setting down the glass of wine that Vakker had procured for him, and wondered if it was too late to leave and find a different pool. But he didn’t want to bring more undue attention to himself, so he remained in the hot water, slowly sinking lower and lower.

“Could someone please change the subject? … Anyone?”

He turned to watch Stalker teaching Charlotte how to swim, nodding along to Caedes’s comment about the prismatic spider, waiting to latch onto the next topic of conversation that wasn’t about him, and trying not to lament that his own bumbling had completely ruined the relaxing atmosphere, as well as whatever fun Veliky and Vakker were having.

Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted.

Veliky looks on with boredom, at the strangely uncomfortable interaction between Vakker and Cyran. At first, she wonders if Vakker is playing some sort of prank, putting words in Cyran's mouth; then, the elf confirms it.

But his wife's dead? If Veliky were being absolutely honest and significantly less tactful, she would've blurted out something along the lines of 'So what's the problem, then?' Last time she did that was when she was talking to the most beautiful pirate woman she'd ever seen, in Sol City (this was prior to a certain pact with a certain outsider). She learnt, then, the meaning of the Common phrase, 'touchy subject.'

Now, Cyran wants a different one, one with less baggage. She can understand that; she hates it when people ask about her family and there's a reason she tells people, forefront, not to ask about her lack of a surname. But what are they supposed to talk about, exactly? Still sitting on the pool's edge, she peers up, absent-mindedly. She can't say she *wants* to talk about anything, nor can she say that she knows what people normally talk about on occasions like this. She supposes she could just leave, but she'd be ditching the warm, soothing bath as well.

It's at that thought that the faint hisses of Stalker's legs draws her attention. The spider spins about until it faces her.

"Mistress Veliky, query: shall I instruct Civilian Charlotte on proper octupedal swimming technique?"

Again, Veliky is faced with a sight that would make her swoon from cuteness, were it not for her knowledge of Blixtbots™ and the inner workings of their minds.

"Go ahead," she says lazily.

With a chirp, the arachnid turns to its partner - and, incidentally, student. Within its metal carapace, cogs grind and whirr as Stalker's processor shifts to a different protocol.

"Begin lesson. Student Charlotte, instruction: first, you must enter the pool at a gentle incline. Do not panic; your natural buoyancy will keep you afloat."

...And so it goes on. There are few more patient teachers than one that's incapable of frustration, even if its scientific vocabulary can be difficult to understand. There are, of course, more standard environments to learn, and the steam raises a dreamy film in the eyes and mind. All in all, there are distractions abound.

Returning her thoughts to... themselves, Veliky lightly taps the water with her big toe, sending tiny ripples in radial waves. Her mind meanders about that game of Truth or Dare that three quarters of this pool had participated in (spiders, real or otherwise, notwithstanding). It certainly hadn't gone how she'd thought it would, but she still gained from it. The most shocking event of it all was almost certainly Astrid's proposal to Cantio, and Cantio's acceptance. But that's a private matter, not good for discussion here.

What else had happened at the party? That's the common thread, so it's probably the best source of ideas. She's spoken ad nauseam about the announcement with others, and she isn't keen on starting a political debate. She'd argued with that dwarf, along with...

"Oh." Her face lightens in recollection. She returns her attention to the pool. "Do any of you know about a game called 'Crypts and Cryptids?' An elf was telling me about it at the party, but I didn't understand. Something about dice and... paper?" Her eyes narrow with skepticism at her own words. "He also said it involved 'role-play.' I was a bit shocked, but he assured me that it isn't 'that kind.'"

The atmosphere darkens between Vakker and Cyran; after all their PDA, Vakker suddenly pulls away from the elf like he’s been bitten. Caedes cocks a brow— he doesn’t understand elvish, but he does understand Cyran when he returns Vakker’s scathing rant in common.

His gaze settles on the elf as he turns red, and starts to sink deeper into the pool following his explanation.

He does not know what has been said between the two, but by the look of Cyran, it wasn't pleasant. He offers Vakker a brief, mildly disapproving glance before taking his wine glass and sliding closer to sit beside Cyran in the new absence of the satyr. He takes the bottle with him, quietly topping off the drink that Cyran had discarded. The bottle clicks as Caedes sets it down on the lip of the rock face.

“My apologies for your loss, Cyran… It sounds complicated.” he remarks, but doesn’t try to push the subject further. He swirls the liquid in his glass, turning his eyes up to Vakker as he leans back against the ledge. “To answer your question… Sure— something like that. It was an observational study… Nothing that interesting; but we found we had things in common, so we talked.” There really isn’t anything classified about that information, so he offers it without much hesitation. “I suppose you could say we became friends.”

His attention drifts to Charlotte and Stalker while he’s talking, watching the way that the two interact:

Charlotte shuffles her eight legs in a way that feels anxious, perhaps shy, while Stalker turns to her with a series of whirrs and clicks. The arachnid seems to listen intently, slowly moving forwards at an incline as instructed, and— she drops head first directly into the pool with the weight of a rock. Water splashes from around her impact zone.

“Pfft.” Caedes chokes on a laugh, his grin baring a set of sharp fangs as he chuckles.

Charlotte resurfaces a moment later, her natural buoyancy indeed keeping her afloat; she doesn't look embarrassed, but she probably is. Slowly, she crawls out of the water to try again; Caedes watches quietly for a moment, before Veliky’s voice fills the air. His eyes turn to her, a brow cocked. “...Crypts and Cryptids?” he repeats, lifting his wine glass to his lips; he ponders the name for a moment, but snickers at her last declaration of the game. “I played something similar when I was a kid. It is not that kind of role-play; you simply… play the game as someone else— someone you make and then pretend to be. Easy.”

He lowers his wine glass, having never actually taken a sip because he is not keen on the taste of disappointment. “I take it none of you have ever played? It's certainly a child's game at the end of the day, but it has its... fun aspects to it.”

Vakker's frustrated expression softened a bit as Cyran spoke. So, when Cyran had said meant he had once been married, not that he was currently married. There was quite the difference between those statements! He should have been more clear about that! And now Vakker looked like the bad guy for reacting to Cyran's words that had been vague and easy to misunderstand. He was even receiving a look of disapproval from Caedes. Ah, that was annoying.

Vakker cleared his throat and looked at Cyran again, not smiling like usual, but also not angry. His expression was sympathetic. He didn't know why Cyran had said all that in the common language instead of Elvish though. Did he want everyone else in the pool to know? It didn't seem like anyone besides them knew Elvish.

"From what you'd said, I thought you were saying you were currently married. I misunderstood. My apologies. I've also been married before, but am not currently." he said in Elvish.

Still though, after that, the mood seemed a bit ruined. If only he hadn't reacted so harshly, he could have continued his game with the Elf, but now it seemed like it would be crass to just apologize and go right back to flirting. The game was over.

He looked at Veliky and Caedes as they started a discussion about some game. He decided to give the pushing of Caedes and Zarius together a break as well while he was a bit put out by his mistake with Cyran. He needed to be subtle, after all. Pushing too hard too quickly would just make the already prickly man more hard to deal with.

"I've never played such a game before, but I have heard of it. Though, I believe it went by a different name at some point, TrailMaker or something like that, I believe. Some people complained about it being a game to summon demons, how absurd."

You don't need some silly roleplaying game to summon demons. Vakker thought to himself.

Cyran slowly forced himself to relax after that outburst, waving away Caedes’s condolences with his hand as if physically brushing the conversation away. “It was a long time ago.” He offered before slowly forcing himself to relax in the warm water. “I don't often think about it- I'm not sure why I brought it up in the first place.” Though it was a surprise to learn that previous marriages was a commonality he shared with Vakker. He hadn’t spoken with the satyr much besides about work related topics. He mentally tucked that information away for later. Even the smallest bits of personal information could come in handy should he need to make use of them.

Cyran didn’t often like to use such tactics, but they could be necessary.

Another piece of information that Cyran found interesting was the glimpse of fangs he caught as Caedes laughed at Charlotte’s attempts to learn how to swim.

He tilted his head to the side, curious, and filed that information away as well.

“She’s working very hard right now.” He commented, turning his attention back to Charlotte. He had to admit that he found the spider rather adorable. He much preferred avians, but Charlotte was very earnest, polite, and intelligent- briefly, he wondered if Caedes would let him pet her…

He would have to ask later.

“What the hell is…” Cyran’s brows furrowed as he returned his attention back to the conversation at hand. Veliky had brought something up that he’d nearly missed. Caedes and Vakker seemed to know what it was, though, which only served to make Cyran feel even more out of the loop. He had never been one for games, and the longer time stretched on the less of a grip he seemed to have on what was considered ‘new’ and ‘fun’. Back in his day, dice had only been used to gamble. “... Role-play?”

Caedes attempted to explain it, but that only deepened Cyran’s confusion. How in the world were you meant to pretend to be someone else with a piece of paper and dice?

… Why would you even want to?

“How do you play?” He asked Caedes, not really understanding but still wanting to support something that Caedes had once seemed interested in. Perhaps he wasn’t anymore, but Cyran would still listen to his explanation with rapt, earnest interest. Vakker soon chimed in that there were even people who used the game to summon demons, which made Cyran even more confused.

Where in the world did demons come into this?

He cleared his throat, sounding somewhat overwhelmed when he spoke again. “... Is that something we could try?” He asked with the curiosity of an old man who was incredibly out of touch with the world, and had not considered the logistics of playing a game that involved dice and paper in the middle of a hot springs tub.

Play the game as someone else? As in, dressing as someone else? Speaking like someone else? Now it makes sense; it must be an exercise in method-deception. It explains why that elf seemed to passionate about it. After all, she doesn't usually place much stock in games; but, when the royal spymaster recommends one, it's difficult to-

Wait, it's a *children's* game? Veliky wrinkles her nose at the revelation, flashing Caedes a disgusted glance when he mentions that he actually enjoys aspects of a game made for kids. The revelation legitimately and disproportionately sours her mood, and she does little to hide it. What a disappointment; it was actually starting to sound f...

Never minding that, why is the royal spymaster playing a children's game? Is he a freak of some sort? No, surely not; he must've been trying to trick her in some way, testing her. Either way...

"Ugh, forget I asked. I don't have time for child's play." she states, brushing a knuckle through her hair as if brushing away the idea itself. Needless to say, her appearance makes the arrogance somewhat somewhat absurd.

...But how does a kids' game get a reputation for devilry? Well, it doesn't matter. If her internal clock is correct - and it usually is - then it's just about time for her to go. And she'll know if her internal clock is correct - which it usually is - because, if it is, one of the bots is about to blast her eardrums with a helpful reminder. It's been a relaxing time; if she could, she'd stay longer - perhaps too long. After this, it's... a meeting. Wonderful.

She lets out a dejected sigh, just before the dreaded moment comes, as she'd predicted.

"Mistress Veliky, reminder:" Its voice buzzes out, as abrupt and obnoxious as a rooster's crowing. "your meeting with General Rthymark is beginning in fifteen minutes. It is recommended that you-"

"Yeah, I got it, Bishop." She rubs her temple; hearing the bots speak is one way to reignite a migraine. "Like it said, I should be going."

As she stands, she takes one last thoughtful survey of the room - at the people, enjoying the steam and the drinks.

"Maybe I'll buy this place someday. Could be lucrative."

She turns around to leave, droplets of water falling from her towel, but remembers something mid-yawn.

"Oh, right." She presses her fingers to her temples, and that same strained expression fills her face again. (Alright Kamille, they started talking about dead wives or something. Sort of killed the buzz. No update on Zardines', except that the satire's also into it. Maybe talk to him? V out.)

The tension fades and, with it, any excuse to stay. She offers the bath's inhabitants one last, curt nod - except for Stalker.

"Stalker, you..." The little bot turns to her, its gentle glide sending arcing ripples through the water. Charlotte remains next to it. Has there been progress? Perhaps not, but there is a certain, reaffirmed will. Despite being such a vastly different being in both form and mentality, Veliky can recognize this will. It's the will that comes from earnestly enjoying something, like she does with numbers. It's a good thing to have. "...You can join us later. Finish your instruction."

As it always does - as any bot does when acknowledging a command - Stalker lets out a twinned chirp. As its mistress turns and marches away with the other bots at her sides, Stalker twirls back to its partner.

"Student Charlotte, instruction: let us resume."

(Exit)

With the awkward situation somewhat rectified, Caedes looks boredly between the two men as Vakker speaks in Elvish back to, before offering his attention to Veliky. He rolls his eyes at her begrudging nature, be mused. “Maybe you should consider making time— don’t you ever get tired of working on the constant?” he asks the quarterling with a cocked brow.

As if to accentuate his question, one of her bots suddenly speaks up about a meeting with… a general? Caedes narrows his eyes, internally making note of the name; he still offers Veliky a sympathetic smile as she rubs at her brows. “Well, think about taking a longer break sometime, Miss Veliky. You’ll run yourself into the ground before long at your rate.”

He doesn’t think she’ll take that advice, but he offers her a small wave as she rises from the pool. She is… something else, always full of surprises for someone of her size. “Take care, Miss Veliky.” he bids her farewell, before breathing a sigh as he sinks further into the water. He offers Cyran and Vakker a glance as Veliky makes her departure, allowing them the bulk of his attention for the time being.

“Only nobles with no other problems in their lives would complain about a game summoning demons,” he sighs, then jokingly adds, “There are real rituals for that.” He chuckles, and does not make any note of his experience on the subject. Instead, he looks at Cyran with a hint of amusement when he asks about the game.

“We can try it sometime; maybe not here, it’s a bit… soggy to play right here, and we don’t have all the things we’d need for it, anyways…” he ponders, then gestures lazily at Vakker. “I’m not sure about Trailmaker, but Crypts and Cryptids you play by having someone tell a story, and the rest play characters in that story. So, you would make a character, and pretend to be that character in the story; you roll dice, keep track of stats, that whole thing. It’s good practice for—” he trails off, searching for the right word. “—for improvisation.”

His family, given they were changelings, have always had a particular propensity for acting and improvisation; his brother used to say it was a good way to work on those skills.

With two fingers, he traces a nonsense pattern in the surface of the warm springs, and looks out towards Charlotte as she does her damndest to keep up with Stalker’s directions. “My brother liked to play it; it’s been a long time since I’ve actually even thought about the game, to be honest…” He flicks the waters from his fingertips, watching the ripple as droplets fall into the pool. Once he’d grown up, he’d had a whole lot less time to bother his siblings.

“You may find it an enjoyable test, though; perhaps we’ll have the time for a game sometime.”

Vakker took note of Veliky's sudden aversion to the game only once it had been said it was played by children. Maybe the Halfling had avoided things for children since she looked so much like a child herself. Ironic, since she seemed to always be the one bringing up games. She had been the one to begin the game of truth or dare at the ball, hadn't she? And she had brought up Crypts and Cryptids in the first place. He wondered what else she might have an aversion to.

Vakker only offered a lazy wave as she departed. He didn't know her that well or anything, and she seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Why draw out the goodbyes?

Vakker smiled at Caedes joke about the game not being needed to summon demons. That had been exactly what he'd thought to himself, so it was nice to have someone agree with him even if they didn't know it. Maybe he and this Caedes fellow had more in common than he thought. But, that didn't mean he would stop trying to matchmake the man with Zarius. He just needed to adapt his tactics. Vakker was patient, he could make it happen slowly.

"Improvisation is quite the useful skill to have. Perhaps we can put together a game sometime, invite some other friends of ours. I've heard four or five is the ideal number of players." he said, and turned to look at Cyran. Past Cyran, Zarius could be seen in another pool a little distance away.

"Would you join as well?"

---

Smooth Talking

“It was lovely to meet you once more, Miss Veliky.” In better circumstances than the game they’d played together at the Black Harvest Ball. Next time, though, he could not help but hope their meeting took place in a… less stressful social situation. As she packed up her things for her meeting, Caedes continued on about demons, and then about Crypts and Cryptids, a ghost of wistfulness haunting his voice when he spoke of his brother.

Cyran was struck with the feeling that he hadn’t had much opportunity to play with his brother in a long time.

“I’d love to, next time we see each other.” Cyran said kindly. He still had no idea where paper and statistics came into play, but he supposed Caedes would have to explain in further detail for him. The memories he had of the game seemed to be happy ones, though troubled, as if there were some lingering reason he had never been able to play, and had only been left with cloying memories of a simpler time sticking to his mind. Perhaps Cyran could help him make new ones.

Veliky’s abrupt exit and Vakker’s change of subject to Zarius, who was still in a pool some ways away, struck him with the sudden feeling that he’d likely overstayed his welcome in this particular conversation.

Cyran stood, wringing some of the warm water out of the shirt he’d been given to cover up his chest, and the scars that still marred his back. “I hope to see you both in the future- should you need me, I plan on spending some time in Darkveil. You can find me there. Enjoy your evening, and may the hot springs provide you both peace and respite.” He heard there was good work down there, and it would give him a chance to rest and make some coin after how hectic his travels had been so far. Cyran didn’t anticipate staying there permanently- it had been far too long since Cyran had a home that he doubted he would find a new one anytime soon, much less one he deserved.

But time would tell, and Cyran figured that he’d spent long enough ruminating about the past and future in this bathwater that he would leave the other two to their conversation.

Cyran slipped into the crowd, where he disappeared once more.