66 Familiarity

Galahad received another scry upon Terra's arrival. True to her word, she brought the stack papers he had to read through and a paper box full of food for dinner.

After getting everything signed and put away, Terra and Galahad ate their ham and cheese grilled sandwiches. They sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter since that was the only place Galahad had dusted so far and the old table was split down the middle with huge animal claw marks across it.

"Mmhpf, where does everyone in this city get their meat? I've seen every place around here has beef, pork, and poultry yet no farm." He asked after putting the last bite into his mouth.

Terra was only halfway through her sandwich before explaining. "First I suggest slowing down, otherwise the city really will run out of animal meat. Second, if you listen closely enough towards the forest inside the city walls, you can here the farm and butchers on the opposite side of the walls.

"So what you're saying is; I'll be hearing the slaughterhouse frequently operating?" He asked seriously as he could while wiping his greasy fingers on the counter.

"Hey, you wanting to stay here so badly." Terra shrugged before hopping off the counter. "Without even seeing the cellar or the upstairs bedroom."

Galahad chuckled and joined her in getting off the counter. "Fair point, so now that you've fed me the dinner I'm owed, what's the favor?"

"Right!" She exclaimed as she almost forgot what she had planned and started rummaging through her satchel.

"So originally you said make some changes to my choices, even if they don't seem like they need to be changed."

"I don't recall wording it like that, but continue."

"Well take a look at this change." She said while handing a cheap-paper flyer to him.

Galahad looked at and it took him a second to realize what she was implying and looked at her. Terra's gleamed as she was waiting to hear what Galahad thought about it.

"I mean . . . As long as you don't regret it, why not?"

*****

Deep in Diagon's market district; Galahad and Terra were standing in a Familiar Shop.

Terra had heard many things about the shop as a part of work research, but couldn't believe after all this time that she had never entered any of them.

When they stepped inside, the smell was somewhat overwhelming. Everything was producing some kind of odor or possibly even fluids that combined to make the whole room smell like a farm. Galahad discreetly pinched his nose and focused more on breathing through his mouth.

Terra didn't seemed bothered as she turned to talk with him without any problems. "So any idea on which type of Familiar I should get?"

It seemed that Terra's idea of changing without change would result in finding something to taking care of and come home to, rather than staying at the office till nightfall.

Galahad shrugged and looked around the room. Every wall had a different sized cage or box with an assortment of creatures, some of the smallest animals were the size of his palm and the biggest was a large, pointed-ear dog with red crystal strands for hairs that looked very dangerous to pet.

Everytime it moved inside the gated space, sparks would shoot off the hairs that collided; making Galahad wonder how anyone could keep that creature from burning down their house.

"I would say something small and not keen on constant attention, unless your office allows Familiars. If they do, then you could go for something a bit more attention dependent and take it with you."

"Hmmm . . . " Terra pondered for a while and made her way to some smaller cages. Eventually finding one with little, round mice that had streaks of yellow hair flaring across their backs. One let out a tiny sneeze and shot a tiny charge of lightning across the cage and hit the metal container.

"What about these things? Tag says: 'Taslings.' You could get one from the same litter too." She drew back her finger as the electric charge hit the cage bars and conducted straight through her finger. It had felt no more powerful than a static shock from gathering a charge from socks on a carpet.

"Oh hell no, my new living situation doesn't endorse pets at the moment. I especially am not a fan of rodents anyway, considering most of the monster around my hometown dungeon were silver rats and elemental bats."

"Well I still think it will thrive at my place." She said while rubbing one's head with a finger through the bar.

'I'd rather just summon some giant monster creature to fight by my side and then put it back in whatever hole I pulled it from.' Galahad thought.

He wasn't against having pets, he used to have a pet Diredinger. A small bird that was supposed to live up to insane amount time, but it disappeared after only three years. He still couldn't a straight answer out of his parents, so he ended up losing the enjoyment of owning a familiar or pet.

"Well it says on the tag that they don't require anything more than grain and seed food, water, and a clean cage. I'm gonna get one of these guys."

"You sure?" Galahad asked. He seemed to have made a friend of Terra pretty quickly in the last few days, but he didn't wanna be the indirect reason her house would have tiny scorch marks on the walls and floor of her home.

"I mean you could take another quick look at some of the other creatures. Birds are always nice to have around."

"He's so cute though." She giggled at the one in front of her and didn't look away from the mouse that kept coming towards her for more attention. It was constantly pressing its head against the bars to signify more head rubs.

She didn't even look away when the crystalline canine shook its whole body and threw enough sparks to have started a small fire in its dry-food bowl.

*****

Neita was exhausted on her way back from Teramore. She exerted herself both physically and mentally to the point that dark bags were forming under her eyes. The faint hints of green from her dryad blood was really showing in her cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

She tried the best she could to get some sleep in the carriage ride home, but couldn't after everything she had pieced together from the last few days. Her lap was filled with a stack of papers and a few crystals full of information that made less and less sense as time went on.

The last two days were a wild goose chase of information that made absolutely no sense.

'He's been all over the place in just a few days of barely recovering. He leaves unannounced from his family on a one-way trip to Bluewalk and doesn't come home. I can't figure out for the life of me what is happening with this kid.' She exacerbated to herself.

After finding the bag of shredded clothes and the substances they were covered was most likely monster remains, she went working into overdrive.

She visited the guild office twice; went to the resonance tower to see her a copy of his sync with the city's communication array; and then visited the hospital to pick up Symora before leaving.

What was worse that when she went and pulled every record out of the guild office, she found a lot more than she bargained for with the history of Mystroff's.

Digging further into recent events, She didn't initially believe that Galahad could walked out of the medical center with an assisting cane and apparently drop it off two weeks later, yet everything was in the right order to prove it true.

Then she sure as hell wouldn't have believed a sparring match occurred with witnesses saying Galahad had left just after beating a level thirty berserker. Yet the proof was still laying in the hospital bed with internal bruising and a jaw wired shut.

Tekko still had another few days of recovery before being able to leave. He was sitting there all mopey and sad when Neita tried asking for more details. Apparently he had just found out that same day that his teammates learned he had tried abandoning them by taking a one-way job to Bluewalk.

It didn't help that he tried beating up an injured lower level in an attempt to steal the job that resulted in him getting his ass beat. All his teammates left him to go reform a new team in one of the towns farther West. Both he and his reputation were broken.

Despite all the note taking and analyzing Neita did, the whole thing just got worse and she was starting to lose sleep over it. After taking a deep breath to calm her mind and focus, she ended up starting dozing off on the bench, a light tap of someone's hand on her shoulder brought her back.

Sitting in the carriage on the bench across from her was Symora, still mute and graceful looking after everything she experienced.

The guild office determined that there was a chance she could be a key witness to something bigger at play. Once she was thoroughly questioned and the case was most likely considered an internal strife, possibly involving an outside source, the Kingdom would send her off to wherever she wanted that included some healers at could regrow her tongue.

When she grabbed Neita's attention, she flipped a notepad over and showed what she had to say.

"We are almost at the camp.

Are you alright?

Is there something going on with the case files on your lap?"

Neita read down the list of thoughts Neita shared and realized she probably wasn't having the worst time of the two. Her problems trying to figure what was going on with Galahad couldn't have been as terrible as what Symora was feeling.

So far, Neita believed the lie that she was held hostage by the bandits. The lashes done upon her soul and the cut out tongue made it hard for the medical staff to believe she was friendly with bandits.

"I'm fine, but I should be asking you if you're okay. Coming back to this bandit camp where they held you prisoner for so long can't feel pleasant."

Symora just shrugged and wrote a response she had ready to go. She was only concerned if Neita was starting to suspect her as the bandit she really was. Once the concern was cleared, she gave her blunt and rather grim opinion.

"They are all dead, I am not. Its not a matter of me feeling pain from the past, but more about whatever memories I choose to let consume me. I just wish to get this dealt with and go to someplace that will give me back my voice."

At that, Symora had nothing else to write out and only quietly crossed her legs and peered out the window, watching the hills pass by.

Her stature and elegant face turned to the distance reminded Neita of an old portrait that used to hang on the wall of her father's house. The woman had a dark pine colored hair that was braided to wrap around her shoulders and fell nearly to the floor.

Her late grandmother, the dryad who's blood descended down the family into her veins.

*****

At the remains of the Nyt Bandit camp.

From the window, both travelling females could see the mass of ten guild officers by the riverside as their investigation began not too long ago.

Symora and Neita were stepping out of the carriage to find the person supervising the camp investigation. It wasn't long before someone came by and had Symora walk off in a different direction. Neita was left alone to find the one man from Bluewalk's guild who was charge.

Near the charred remains of the large pavilion tent, she found a silver haired man wearing a form of travelers clothes that bore the same insignia of the Etherite kingdom. It matched the one on her satchel bag perfectly. Despite the silver hair, he actually appeared to be in his mid-thirties and fairly spry. Neita could only assume it was a strange part of his genetics that made him appear so, unless stress was a playing factor.

The man seemed to be standing there in wait, adjusting a burlap bag strung along his back with mild irritation; making Neita immediately feel guilty upon arrival.

"I'm sorry for arriving so late in the afternoon. I have a case involving a few things in Teramore that took up more time than I expected." She came up to the man and gave a slight bow with apology.

"Don't be sorry. After one of the leading captains from Bluewalk's forces left last week; it's been nothing but hell in reprimanding the idiots that think the rules have suddenly changed. I couldn't wait to get out of the city for a few hours, even it involves dead bandits." He pulled a hand out of his pocket and led with a handshake to his introduction.

"I'm Officer Scern, Magician class: Carnomancer."

Neita was conflicted at the thought of someone wanting to deal with a massacre instead of their own hometown, but she just decided to be happy that he wasn't angry and shook his hand at the introduction.

"Honestly, I don't understand how the Countess has gotten away with so much. I guess that's politics." Scern continued to talk of the country's government line up being too corrupt as he unslung the burlap bag off his shoulder.

He knelt down and starting pulling what appeared to be one-foot-tall clay dolls from the bag. There was a total of eight grayish-blue figures that didn't have too much details on their bodies.

They had nothing along on their cup-shaped hands or any facial features, except the hollow indents for eyes and a singular rune carved into their backs. Each rune was distinctly different but Neita had no idea what they were designed for.

The ninth one Scern took out was a few inches taller and had hands with three fingers attached to each palm. Once he took the last one out to stand, he starting letting out a long-winded chant and pressed a finger on the tallest one's head.

Neita jumped when it came to life with little blue lights peeking out of the empty eyeholes and starting running in circles wildly. Scern slapped it on the back of head as he started telling it off like parent would a child.

"Calm down. I need you to focus at attention, but before you do that, wake up your siblings."

The little clay golem nodded silently, having no mouth to respond. It whipped around in an excited frenzy once again and started touching each nonliving golem's back, spreading a blue glow into their engraved runes.

Soon all nine clay creatures were standing at a little salute in front of Officer Scern and Neita. She didn't know what else to do with the living golems staring their unblinking eyes at the two taller humans.

"All right, lets begin." Scern said to his little minions.