The Heavenly Host

“The perfect cure! Which one of us is the healer here?” Hilda asked with a laugh as she came into the chambers. She had only been here briefly previously. It was a decent suite — nothing to compare with Lenamare’s, of course, but still nice. Perhaps the main thing was the lack of personal items. There were numerous professional instruments and quite a few boxes, but overall the suite looked rather unlived in.

Trisfelt must have noticed her looking around. “You’ll have to forgive the bare nature of my quarters. They were just procured for me upon my arrival in Freehold, so I haven’t moved in.” He paused and a look of consternation settled on his face. “And Lenamare managed to vaporize-slash-disintegrate most of my personal possessions back at his school. Some of us didn’t get a lot of room for baggage.” He gave a small grin of mild exasperation.

Hilda grimaced. “I didn’t even think of that. I’m so sorry.”

Trisfelt shook his head, implying it was no big deal. “A great inconvenience, but nothing more. We thaumaturgists are known for being rather nomadic and living off the land, so to speak. Unlike many other wizards, most of our components and tools are readily found in nature.”

He gestured for her to sit down on the couch. “I also have a small cabin — really more of a sort of tree cabin, out in the woods, not that far from Tris.” He sat down himself. “That’s where many of my most personal things are kept. It’s my hideaway, where I go for a respite now and then.”

“A tree cabin?” Hilda asked, puzzled.

Trisfelt had begun mixing Bloody Tatanias from the ingredients and pitchers on the coffee table. He chuckled. “It’s basically a hut built inside the hollow of a very large tree.”

Hilda got a slightly puzzled look on her face. “It must be a very large tree. And I thought you were a thaumaturgist, not a druid,” Hilda joked.

Trisfelt laughed. “No, not a druid. There are a few druids nearby; it is not that far from a satyr encampment. I first encountered the region a decade or so back while researching satyr beer and wine.”

Hilda sat up a bit straighter. “Now you have my attention! Did you find satisfactory refreshment?”

Trisfelt chuckled. “Indeed, some of the best beers in all of Astlan, and I suspect the best non-alvaren wine to be found. Much more grounded with very rich, earthy overtones, and far cheaper but every bit as interesting for one looking for new experiences.”

Hilda looked quite excited. “Well then, I hate to impose, but once this current” — she gestured around, indicating the entire city and region — “whatever it is, is over, you must invite me for a visit!”

Trisfelt smiled brightly. “I would love to do that. It is quite gorgeous out there. Rustic, I fear, but very relaxing.”

“I grew up in a small village in deep woods at the base of the mountains; it was a bit of a backwater.” Hilda smiled. “So rustic is something I’m quite familiar with.” She got a wistful look in her eye as she remembered Rivenrock. She closed her eyes for a moment and then reopened them and smiled, taking the glass Trisfelt offered her.

“Are you okay? You seem suddenly a bit distressed,” Trisfelt asked.

“I’m fine. Simple nostalgia for one’s youth. My village is no longer there, it’s been reclaimed by the forest, so I sometimes get a bit wistful.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did it just become too hard to make a living?” Trisfelt asked.

Hilda grimaced. “Unfortunately, a necromancer — well, it’s unpleasant and painful.”

Trisfelt was startled. “A necromancer! Oh my goddess, I’m so sorry, I should not have pried!”

Hilda waved him off. “No, no, it’s a perfectly natural question on your part. I’ve come to a small level of peace over it with time.”

“Well, let me change the topic. I have our brunch being served shortly.” He gestured to a dining table set for two. “Waffles with syrup from the region I was just telling you about, as well as ham and a potato-and-egg dish.”

“Mmm,” Hilda said. “Sounds delicious. We should talk more about the balling. Do you wish to do that before, during or after brunch?”

“My only thought would be to reserve discussion when the servants are here,” Trisfelt said.

Hilda nodded. “I agree. I assume they are general palace staff” — Trisfelt nodded — “and no telling who they might share information with.”

“Exactly.”

“I guess my big question is about this Rupert demon. Are you going to tell Lenamare?” Hilda asked.

Trisfelt shuddered. “I think not; at least, not yet. I still have trouble believing it is the same lad. I just do not see how we could have missed it. Telling Lenamare at this juncture would only serve to make him even more paranoid, and I cannot predict how he would react. Generally unpleasant, most likely with initial disbelief, possibly an insulting interrogation of Danyel and the two of us. So, until I can confirm personally, I think I would like that possibility to stay between the three of us.”