The Heavenly Host

Sitting at a table near the bar, the two knights had finished about half of their ale when the tavern door opened and a loud, deep tenor voice called, “Like night and day — if it isn’t Salt and Pepper!” The two knights grinned to each other and turned to salute the new arrival with their ales.

“Sir Lady Serah!” Gaius greeted the arriving knight.

“That’s Sir Serah to you, Knight!” Serah laughed. “You know what I think of that ‘Lady’ crap. I ain’t no lady, I’m a Knight Rampant of Tiernon.”

“You really can’t blame the Church hierarchy for maintaining archaic and patronizing forms of address,” Gadius said. “It’s just part of their nature, ingrained for millennia.”

Serah snorted as she pulled up a chair to their table. “Jaedall, a pint of Neurien mead!” she called to the barman, flashing a bracelet with multiple charms on it.

It was Gaius’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I take it you are familiar with the city?”

She flashed him a grin as she pulled her large helm off and shook her insanely long hair, nearly two inches long, free of the helm. “Not officially.” She grinned.

“You really need a haircut, soldier,” Gadius said with a grin. He knew how much she disliked having long hair. She must have been on a rather intense mission.

“Tell me. Fortunately, I have paperwork with a couple of good barbers here,” Serah replied.

“You need to sign papers with a barber?” Gaius asked.

“What if they cut your neck by mistake while trimming your beard?” Serah asked.

“Is that actually a problem you have to worry about?” Gadius asked her. She punched him in the shoulder.

“You get my point; a barber brings a sharp blade close to people’s throats. They are all bonded and insured. Also, my understanding is that for certain high officials, it’s best to have a clear design plan agreed upon before starting to style said person’s hair. It avoids a lot of court time if they are unhappy with the new look.”

Gadius and Gaius shook their heads in wonder at the complexity of this city.

“So other than that, what all can you tell me?” Serah asked. “I’m sure I got the same initial message, which sounds appalling, but then I got a second message to come here when I couldn’t get to Freehold before you left.”

“Are you up to date on Freehold?” Gaius asked.

“All I know is that Talarius was cruelly defeated and kidnapped by a demon.” She shook her head. “It sounds impossible. He’s bested more demons than I can count.”

“Not just any demon, an archdemon. And there were at least two more, along with a few greater demons,” Gadius said.

“Archaedemons? Multiple archaedemons?” Sera asked.

“Well, yes, and well over a thousand other lesser demons that had been infesting Freehold.” Gaius shrugged.

Serah gave them a double take. “You are going to have to tell me more!” she commanded.

∼

“This place makes Gizzor Del seem civilized!” Jenn complained as she, Gastropé, Danfaêr and Treyfoêr made their way down the cramped stone street towards the apothecary. As cramped as the small street was for her, she could only imagine what it felt like to the aetós.

They had arrived shortly after dawn. Trefalger, the second mate, and Seamach began putting together landing parties. All five people from the Council party were going down: Trevin, Maelen, Elrose, Jenn, Gastropé, along with Seamach the scout, Bealach the navigator, Trefalger, four of the aetós guardians and four of the dwarf guardians.

“I have not been to Gizzor Del, but I have heard of it,” Danfaêr said. “But given these horribly confining streets, I can’t see how it could have been conceivably worse!”

“I do not like all the little tunnels where people’s homes have extended so far over the street that they are bumping into the apartments on the other side and cutting off the sky above!” Treyfoêr said.

“Why even groundlings would want to live like this is beyond me! It’s like a cage, complete with a dung-strewn floor!” Danfaêr said, trying to scrape some excrement off his right boot.

“Who would have thought being cooped up for days inside a cloud would feel less confining?” Gastropé added with the others nodding in agreement.

They had made a quick descent on the carpets, diving out of the sky at a far faster pace than they had when going up to the Nimbus at the first town, albeit more restrained than during combat. The pilots had landed them outside of town and they had split up into different groups to gather various supplies. The plan was to all rendezvous at a large tavern named “The Alfar’s Arse,” oddly enough run by an alvaren couple for the last seven hundred years. It had a good-sized banquet room that Seamach had rented out for the day. Seamach had told them that there would be snacks, beer and wine available and paid for throughout the day and that they would be having dinner in the evening with some of his friends.