The journey had started right that same afternoon without incidents, which was always reassuring. Aleln and Realn had prepared the journey back home in detail, and all the friends needed to do was to hoist their travel packs on the backs of their horses. They didn't need much travel gear, and the only person to really slow down their pace was the resident bookworm of the group, who didn't prefer to move too far without quite a few books.
Gnedrnygr spent most of the pauses in the journey studying his books, mostly ones concerning history of Colemia. He tried his best to keep others from reading the tomes in question. He even decided to specifically tell Faira to focus on her spell book rather than these fascinating tomes, knowing his trunk's lock had been picked before when he had specifically told her not to read something. And this time, he didn't even have a trunk to keep the books in.
The travellers proceeded along the eastern highway toward Bergluchia, then north toward Nothross as they passed the border and eventually reached River Furin. The road to Furinel was kept in good condition and was frequently watched over by Varmhjelmian and Furinelian patrols. The road was easy to travel, though the whole journey still took over three weeks – the distances in northern Furinel were astounding. But the weather was on their side; only in a few occasions they were bothered by light rain, but mostly, the skies kept clear and the warm summer weather only cheered them to go on. During the travel, Aleln and Realn led the way, and Facyr eyed around to keep the possible trouble from surprising them.
They camped along the road, and talked about mundane matters around the camp fire; Aleln and Realn were relaxed and friendly, and even when there was no longer the need to hush like in the city, they insisted the adventurers forgot the titles and call each other by first name, just like, as they explained, they did with all of their closest underlings anyway. This move was particularly welcomed by Facyr, who had, during his entire life, shown an unnerving tendency to descend to such friendly terms in any and all situations.
The night was falling once again upon the travellers. They set up their camp in one of the gorges by the road that passed through the hilly forests. Climbing on top of one of the hills, they could see, far in the distance, the mountains rising above the woods. The evening sun coloured the leaves of the woods with vibrant colours, with the wind bringing some nightly chill. It seemed that even when it was already definitely summer in Anchorfall, here north, the past winter was still trying to keep its feeble grip.
“Well, distant part of the world we are in”, Facyr said, and turned to his friends. “Has any one of you ever been here?”
Faira shook her head. “I've only been to the southern Furinel.”
“My experience with Furinel is limited to a few longer visits to Moonbay and one week's stay in Furinia”, Gnedrnygr said.
“I've been here a couple of times, working as a caravan guard. Oh, this reminds me of home”, Facyr said. “Clean and fresh air. Do you get a lot of snow here? I've only been here in the late summer.”
“Yes, lots and lots of snow. I've noted spring comes here only a week before Grycia, and the winter week after”, Realn said.
“So this is kind of like Grycia – the summers are short, but luckily there's not much snow.”
The discussion around the camp fire had been quite lively over the journey. The adventurers had learned a lot about Furinel's royal houses, their customs and how they differed from Varmhjelmian ways. The earlier night, Realn had talked at length about Furinel's economy, and Facyr found Realn's speaking skills fascinating. He was a person who believed any amount of money was “too little anyway”, and couldn't understand a whole lot of how the world of the finance really worked. Yet, Realn's description on history of the Furinel's commerce had kept him awake the whole time, even deeply interested. He had even asked questions.
It was a cold clear evening, and there was a lot to talk about, and what was better place to talk than a warm camp fire deep in a calm, sheltered spot the middle of wilderness?
Gnedrnygr had found a like-minded person. He found Realn, all in all, a fascinating person to talk to, in a purely professional sense. He had once been a teacher of magic, and now tried to rekindle this profession by teaching Faira; yet, it had been a long time since he had last wobbled over to the Anchorfall's academy and debated with the fellow magicians. Over the journey, they had talked a lot, and he found himself spending a lot of time with her.
Now, after Realn's interesting financial presentation, Faira, Facyr and Aleln went to prepare their tents for the night, while Gnedrnygr and Realn debated about the nature of magic. It would become a frequent hobby over this journey, Gnedrnygr thought. Gnedrnygr had observed that while Realn was not a very advanced magician – she had only recently taken the path of magical arts - she showed a lot of potential and knew a lot about the foundations and theoretical background of magic.
“Now, I'm sorry if this is a bit strange question”, Gnedrnygr said, “but in Colemia, we had very little exposure or even knowledge of the elven ways of magic, and I can't say I got too much illumination on this mystery when I was in Bluebrook. Could you explain some of the underlying principles of it to me?”
Realn sighed. “The truth is, there's not much to explain. Our magic may look very different, but in fact, we're talking of the exact same magic. Magic is magic.”
“Yes, yes, I know that fundamentally we're talking of the same forces, same procedures, same equations. But the way it's practised is different, is it not? And from what I've heard, elves are ahead on every field of magic...”
“Some scholars might disagree, though I'm rather reserved myself. We discussed this pretty throughout in the Academy of Arcane Arts. Some said elves are ahead and will always be, others argued the very existence of Infinite will prove that humans will eventually surpass us, as there's no practical limit on how the power can be derived from the Infinite.”
“The Infinite?” Gnedrnygr thought. “Ah, you are referring to the Foundation of Magic?”
“I believe that's what the humans call it.”
“But that's just a mere theoretical model. It says nothing about the individual's ability to use...”
“Precisely!” Realn interrupted. “So you are thinking exactly like the majority of magicians.”
“And you aren't? You believe the Foundation of Magic will somehow make humans masters of the magical forces?”
“No. All I'm saying is that they have a very good point.” She smiled. “Can you describe how you think the Infinite will affect people's work?”
“Well, truth to tell, the Foundation theory only appeared when I was already leaving Colemia, but, oh well...” Gnedrnygr scratched his head. “I'd postulate – excuse me, guess that the Foundation represents pure magical force, and individual's capabilities determine how and what kinds of powers they can use.”
“Precisely. And what does that mean from the points of view of humans and elves?”
Gnedrnygr thought. “Humans and elves think differently and thus use different kinds of magic?”
“Good. Now, my point: You're thinking of humans and elves as distinct moulds that dictate what kinds of magic they can use. The All-Infinite theorists are saying these moulds are entirely artificial and will break eventually. I'm merely saying that... well, think of magic from the Infinite as rays of Trinvnil, our minds as rooms. and our ways of magical applications as windows through which light comes in, and the pattern of light representing what each of us really knows of magic. Now, sorry to stereotype, but elves might just keep a small potted flower on a windowsill, while humans leave all sorts of junk on windowsills. Elves get a lot of light on room—not everything, mind you—and humans a little bit less. All-Infinite theorists say no one is keeping anything on a windowsill in near future.”
“Ah, I see. And what you are saying is, humans may clean their windowsill from time to time, but being humans, they will accumulate more junk there in time?”
“Yes. And there's also great individual variance – a lot of people keep their junk in different places. But one of the big points of this big analogy is, our shadows are in different places.”
“Shadows? Oh yes, you mean, things on the windowsills casting shadows at different places?”
“Yes – and, also, we know where our shadows are, as we do not move our plants that much, and we may even learn to sometimes move the plant just a little bit to peek behind it. Humans do that too on occasion, but they often can't find anything they left on their windowsill anyway.”
“Ah, I see. You know”, Gnedrnygr said, scratching his head and looking thoughtful, “One thing comes in mind from all this. I'm probably a much more experienced magician than you. Don't take this wrong, it's not meant to disparage, it's just a comment based on your level of practical experience. You're fresh out of the Academy, and by time you even started your mere 10-year course, I had been a practising magician for several decades. You are no match for me what comes to knowledge of spells, obviously, even given the elven predisposition toward magical crafts—”
“Well, I was not the most gifted student around, though I have no idea how we compare to other academies of magic...” Realn said modestly, slightly worried by Gnedrnygr's assessment.
“Don't be disappointed! I was just about to tell the good news. You amaze me – and I really mean it, you truly amaze me”, Gnedrnygr said with his finger raised – “in how deep knowledge you have of the roots of the magic; you probably know a lot more of the Foundation than I do.”
Realn raised her gaze from the ground, where it had fallen during Gnedrnygr's throughout analysis of her career so far, and smiled cheerfully. “It might be so; humans are practical, I've seen, and care about immediate results, while we study what makes things really work.”
“Quite. And that alone tells me humans still have a lot to do to catch up with elves”, Gnedrnygr said and smiled warmly.
“Anyway, to the point of all this – elves do think a little bit different, and as a result, our magic will do different. Your Abramm Thevlynson the Younger once said elves invent things that 'look the same in million different ways', and humans invent million different things that all do the same thing.”
“I don't quite follow that”, Gnedrnygr said, scratching his head.
“Our magic tends to be mysterious in nature – at least from the point of view of those not directly involved with the magical forces in question. The end result is a lot of flashy and cute and nice things, and – there you go – a magical thingy appears out of nowhere. Same sort of magic, varied results, yet all similar in nature.”
“Hah. I still remember one souvenir that Duke Lucien sent me a while ago. It was an Elven Artefact. It sure looked like an elven item of great craftsmanship, and certainly was most magical in nature. But let my nose be bloody if I ever figure out what the widget is supposed to be, or do. It's pretty, though. Lucien was dreadfully interested in finding out too, his court mage had produced that thing one day and left everyone there a bit puzzled.”
Realn giggled. “Now, and for the comparison, human spells mostly apply the idea of turning the power of Infinite into something practical, using pretty much the same methodology in every case.”
“Oh, yes, and cynics would probably say the practical things are the same as well – to kill people.” Gnedrnygr sighed. “But we have a lot of spells that do good things too!”
“Anyway, as you see, elven spells are like one giant mother of all spells: one mysterious force that does everything. It's raw application of the power of the Infinite to tasks limited only by creativity, which happens to be applied in quite heavy quantities. While humans have methodical approach: take some power of the infinite, use bits and pieces of the same process, and end up with a formula of spell. The end result is same: magic swords are forged, fireballs are thrown.”
“So really, in the end, it doesn't matter what short cut you take, you end up in the same place?” Gnedrnygr muttered halfheartedly, yet sounding happy enough to know that. “Gosh, I sound like Faira”, he sighed. “Anyway, that is basically what I wanted to know. I already knew our methods of magic work the same way, but it's the things that we do with magic that makes us different. Maybe that's why it seems, to an outside observer, that elven magic is different from human magic, because rituals and applications of magic are different.” He sighed again, pondering a bit. “By the way, hopping from a topic to another – I'd like to hear what books of magic you've been studying. I might be interested in learning some more of this interesting elven magic.”
“Again, I think you have little to worry.” Realn sighed. “I wish I had much things to share. Most of the things I was taught were in the lectures. But I did study one book – and only one book. As you know, we were almost completely broke when we were in Furinia. The only book I had was the first volume of Wlehm Archeyblaad's Golden Principles of Spellcasting.”
Gnedrnygr raised his eyebrow. “Looks like I'm not lucky today with my guesses or wishes – that's a tome I'm familiar with already, so it's not surprising me. Magic quite well understood by the humans, I think. First volume only?”
“That's right.”
“And that's the only book you've been studying?”
“Cover to cover. I know, it did not answer all of my questions.”
“Milady, you would be putting yourself in a grave risk, had not venerable Acheyblaad thoughtfully provided appendix B, Battle magic!” Gnedrnygr said, with a grin. “The tome has good selection of spells, I tell you that – Faira has, as far as I know, almost finished studying it and she's shown some interesting uses of those spells – but she's not exactly letting her life depend on them. I wouldn't, anyway. Are you sure you can't afford the second volume?”
“Well, now I can, but I couldn't find it anywhere. I don't think there's a copy of that book in Furinel anywhere but in the libraries.”
“It's a very well known book in Varmhjelm, and I believe one can find a copy rather easily there. Unless I remember wrong, I have three copies, one of which I'll spare for Faira and I was thinking of selling the remaining one if I ever ran out of small copper coins. But once I get home, I'll try to find a way to get the tome to you. I have to give it to you as a gift. Let me put it this way - you're practically defenceless without those spells! I'll also try to find a copy of Anthology of Cantrips, I'm sure the mr. Bovinier could give me an extra copy if I ask him really nicely.”
“Oh! You're a friend of Arthur Bovinier, then?”
“Yes, yes, of course! Who wouldn't know the Archmage of Anchorfall - he's probably the wisest and also funniest person in the whole city. Why, just the past week, would you believe, I was talking with him about his work on the second edition of Thousand and One Secrets of Darkness, when he proposed a fairly interesting solution to the old conundrum of the chicken and the egg...”
While Gnedrnygr and Realn debated, Faira had retired to her tent. After she had had the tent up, she had listened to Gnedrnygr and Realn for a while, and then decided to retire to read more of the famed Acheyblaad tome.
She full knew the dangers of a book; not that it was in any way dangerous to read as such, as some of the magic books quite incorrectly were described as, but in that reading one topic led to reading about another topic, and another, and so on. A lot of books seemed to have this effect on her and a lot of people she had known. She still remembered, a few years back, when the Encyclopædia Varmiana – the first encyclopædia edited in Varmhjelm – was first published, and Gnedrnygr, being a close friend of the editor-in-chief and Archmage of Anchorfall Arthur Bovinier, had shown her his copy. She had not been able to do much for the next few days, after being addicted to reading about random things, and that time, she had definitely lost the sense of time. This had, naturally, greatly annoyed Gnedrnygr, who was very glad to have his book back eventually. Gnedrnygr hadn't won the contest over sleeping rhythm – Faira quite simply seemed to stay awake much longer than the older magician, so there was no chance Gnedrnygr could have taken the book while she was sleeping, and he had learned quickly there was simply no point trying to get the book while she was awake. The war of attrition was won when Gnedrnygr reminded her that he didn't approve of reading while eating – this was a valuable, new book, and breadcrumbs would ruin it. Soon, she simply was too hungry to keep going, and Gnedrnygr was able to get the book back. Then, Gnedrnygr had succumbed to the exact same malady that had gripped Faira over the preceding days, and was barely able to keep the thing away from the dinner table.
Now, Faira was reading the famed spell book, quite as spellbinding as the encyclopædia. Hours went by, and much much later, she was feeling a bit tired, and found herself with a big book on her lap, and a whole bunch of bookmarks in it – just that the bookmarks were, in fact, her fingers, which she tended to use when no suitable bits of paper were at hand. Usually for her, the time to quit was when she ran out of fingers to mark pages and turn the pages at the same time. She didn't dare to turn pages with her nose, but after seeing a few students with small smears of ink and paper cuts on tip of their noses – depending on if they had been reading really old or the newer books – at the Academy library at Anchorfall, she wasn't sure it was particularly frowned upon there...
She was lost in the thought as she suddenly heard Facyr's voice outside of the tent: “Faira?... May I come in?”
“Yeah, come on in”, she said, still lost thinking of the issues. Facyr came to the tent, and she didn't raise her gaze until he was inside, and was a little bit startled to see how he looked – quite grim and depressed. In Faira's opinion, Facyr generally didn't show great many sorts of emotions, but even with those, he could give the impression of not being a boring person. She knew one thing, though: Facyr most certainly didn't ever look grim and depressed. In his worst days, he seemed to sulk quietly, with the look as if he was already figuring out what to do to remedy the awful situation. Thus, seeing Facyr in such an unusual state made her drop her curious and joyful mood, and got her alarmed. “Uh, what's the matter?” she said.
Facyr brushed his clothes a bit and sat down besides Faira. “We're friends, right?” he asked, biting his lip and with his voice trembling with awkwardness, but, as Faira felt, no concern about anything that might threaten their friendship at all.
“Yep”, Faira said with a reassuring smile. “Of course we are friends!”
With a deep breath, Facyr began to speak. “Look, I just can't hold all of this in me any more. I want to talk to you because you're the only one who I think I can speak to about this.” He looked quite troubled. “Gnedrnygr and the rest are sleeping by now, sorry I had to wait so long.”
“I was reading late, no problem with that. What's the matter?”
Facyr sighed heavily. Faira's easy manner made this quite a lot more difficult than it already was. He composed himself to ask the dreadful question. “Do you think I'm leading this group well enough? I know it's been a bit of a lull lately...”
Faira thought a bit, relieved it was an answer she could answer at least a little bit better than something more personal. “Well, based on what kind of fascinating trouble you have got us so far, and how well you have got us out of there, I'd say you're leading us pretty well, I guess. You make good decisions on who should do what, yet you let us do our things our way.”
Facyr sighed. “I don't know. I think I'm a terrible leader.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, Gnedrnygr knows a lot more about the places we go into than I do. He's like a walking library or something. I would have no idea what to do about most things if he wasn't around to tell me what's going on. And...” Facyr closed his eyes, and took a big breath, then said, nervous and voice trembling, “you're the one who knows how to get things done at all. I bet you'd make a better leader – all I know is how to swing a sword a little bit, and you know much more about how to do all of the practical things.” He gasped and opened his eyes, now looking Faira deep in her eyes for the first time in long time – probably first time ever, if Faira's memory served her right. “I'm right, don't you think? I'm worthless, right? I think you'd make a lot better leader than I am. You're... respectable in all ways.”
Facyr had problems saying that all to her. Which was all more stranger, because that was his way of clearing up the troubles from his head.
He had the pressing need to tell somebody how much he admired her. He needed to do that.
When he had been in the order of Brave Blades, he had always had the chance of confessing his feelings and secrets to a priest of Gapus. He was accustomed to that. But Gapus had had no priests in Anchorfall for many years.
He needed to confess. He knew that the second best option at the time were his friends, and Faira was who he trusted most in this matter. What really made it much harder was that this confession also concerned her. And he didn't, really didn't, want this thing to sound like a proposition or anything. He admired Faira, but it was not really love, just strong friendship and professional admiration.
He tried to imagine what priests of Gapus would have said. They might have told him to be bold and tell this thing to her personally. He knew he would also be of honour to Gapus by being brave even in such mundane matters. He knew he had to face this situation eventually.
And now, he had had to dash to the fight. He had had the need to compliment her once again, and this time, do it really properly, not holding back. Words barely could do justice to all of the things he felt.
Now it all felt a bit silly – after all, he had given her quite a few nice words before, how this could be so hard?
But saying all this, being really kind, and actually meaning every word, was quite a lot harder than he thought it was. He was shaking as he said the things, and now, done with the most difficult thing to face bravely in recent memory, he just broke into tears.
Unlike this confession, crying was one of those things that he could do bravely when occasion demanded it. Of course, he rarely had the need, but now, crying was all he could do.
“Calm down, calm down...” Faira said. She put the book away, rose up and gave the shaken warrior a light hug. She held distraught Facyr in her embrace for a while, the warrior's tears dropping to her shoulder.
Facyr eventually composed himself, gently but sternly broke off of Faira's hug, and sat down on the floor, blushing and wiping his face dry.
Faira was a bit surprised to hear this confession, but at least liked the fact that Facyr had brought such things up before it turned something really taxing. Leaders, she thought, worked better with no weight in their minds. Of course, while getting things off the chest was good, she didn't quite think that getting whatever people got off their chest was automatically true.
“Well, look, let me put it this way...” she said slowly, and thought for a while, and meanwhile put some of her things in order. Then, she finally spoke. “Well, I think a soldier would know this: think of yourself as a lieutenant and me as a soldier – or a sergeant, if you think I am more worthy than I think I am, honestly. You're worried you aren't good at the soldierly tasks. But lieutenants don't do soldierly tasks at all, right? Soldiers do.” She spun cattily around, and lied down, getting ready to sleep. She didn't notice right away how Facyr reacted to this, but rather kept talking. “You're good at planning, strategy and commanding. We do our things, so you don't need to worry about that at all.” Faira noted that she had been babbling for a long time, and now looked at Facyr a little bit closer. But his expression caused her to get a bit worried. “Uh, what's the matter now?”
Facyr couldn't get a voice out of him for a while. In the dim glow of her study lantern, Faira noted he was blushing even more severely than a moment ago after the hug. “Um... I was on your way... sorry to bump in you...” he finally said, weakly and voice trembling.
Faira wondered for a while, and then realized Facyr was referring to the moment before when she had turned around, and brushed him a bit with her rear. “Oh, hm.” She smiled a bit to how silly that sounded, then her smile widened to a more kinder variety. “No, it was my fault, sorry for that. Friends can bump together in tents they paid together. Besides, this tent is a bit too small for two. No, don't leave, I didn't mean it that way”, she quickly added with the same breath, as the confused warrior was already opening the flap of the tent. “Look, you're obviously shocked and tired and all that. I think we'd better talk of all things now that we've got going, right? This is still a big enough tent for two people to talk in!”
Facyr said nothing for a second or two, then just nodded. “All right, all right.”
“We're friends. Now tell me everything that bothers you.”
“Do you think that... blushing to that... thing before was silly?”
“Well, no, but I've noted you've been really shy around women when, uh, anyone even touches you. You're actually pretty shy, aren't you? You'll get over it if you try, it's not easy at first, but can be done.” She smiled.
“Could you... help me with that? Not the... uh... romantic side but... well, I think I could need someone to cheer me on and... things like that.”
Faira smiled. “I'll gladly help you. And I know just the cure to get it started.”
“What is it?”
Faira's smile turned into a mischievous grin. “Now, promise not to fight when I do this.”
“Uh, okay, I promise.” Facyr wasn't sure what to expect, but knew what Faira had done had very often ended up being good.
Facyr just wasn't good with women.
As long as they stayed at least a hand's width away, he could talk to them just fine, but he winced and blushed if they even as much as touched him. The hug just moment ago had really tried his nerves.
Of course Faira knew, he thought. She knew how he reacted when she got close. She had been close to him often. She must know.
But she also always knows what to do, right? Didn't I just tell her that? Making good decisions?
And now Faira got along with this new plan of hers he didn't know anything about. Understandably, Facyr had an urge to push Faira off when she did what she did, but somehow managed to control himself.
His head started to spin as Faira first hugged him – really more forcefully than previously. This was a proper hug, not a simple thing that she did a bit ago. He didn't know what made him so dizzy right now, but that was just how he felt.
Then, as he was already passing out, he found himself lying on top of her, with his head on her bosom.
By the seven elders of the Blades, Facyr thought, my head's actually touching her—
Then it was time for him to panic. But he contained it well under the circumstances.
“But, but... but... You've got Lord Lucien waiting for you in Moonbay. Uh, won't he be mad if he finds out?” Facyr blurted out weakly. His face, fire red after Faira's sudden move, was quickly returning to more normal colour.
Faira giggled. Facyr had been her friend long enough to know there wasn't a shred of mockery in the giggle – it was just quiet laughter of someone who found new sides from their friends, or learned more of the old sides. “That I'm here offering hugs and comfort to my friends who desperately need it?” Faira said. “I think he'd find it a good idea. You managed it quite well, don't you think? Look, your blush is going away too!” The hour was late and Faira was feeling quite sleepy – she couldn't prevent the giggle from turning into a cheerful laughter.
“Yeah”, Facyr said. This seemed to work for him. What was previously unthinkable and scary had now happened and he was still here intact. “Can I... could I... uh, can I sleep by your side? I've never slept with a woman. I mean... in any sense of that expression. I... I didn't mean to say that...”
“Oh, I'm happy if you sleep with me, any way you want.” She grinned and noted Facyr's blush had reappeared and reached completely unseen levels. “...just joshing you! I suppose it's just more convenient and definitely more appropriate if we just, uh, sleep together. That was really all I wanted to do with you right now, never be worried. I've always hoped to give a night's shelter for some scared little creature, even if it happens the creature is really a mighty wolf”, Faira said, taking a hold of the silver chain hanging in Facyr's neck and pulling Facyr's pendant to sight, silvery wolf head glimmering in the lantern light. She looked at it for a while, then saw Facyr was growing more relaxed, his blush fading again. “Besides, I think you'll sleep more comfortably because the the nights are, as you can guess, pretty cold here.” She grinned. “And I'm always happy to hold friends close, especially some dear friends like you, and even more especially people who desperately need a big hug.” As she closed Facyr to her embrace, he wept some more, stunned by how things progressed. ”Come on now”, Faira said, ”talk to me. Tell me everything that's bothering you, my friend.”
“Mostly about the leading thing again. You said soldiers do a lot of stuff and officers don't, and that's true. But again, louts who know nothing about anything seem to move up in rank, or that's how it seems to me.”
“Don't get depressed about that. I think you're doing just fine all of the other things you are good at, and you're above the average rising-star idiot. Were your officers in Grycia incompetent at everything else but pushing people around? Did you have nothing but seriously awful commanders?”
“Tes.”
“Hm?”
“Sorry, just remembered people from long time ago. Ancyr Tes. Lieutenant of the second infantry company. Much more competent man than Elstryn Velln, our lieutenant. It's funny, sometimes I remember the idiots better, sometimes I remember just the nice people.” Facyr sighed.
“Well”, Faira said, “I can't say I know either of these people, but I'm happy you've found one way of looking it. There's another thing you'd probably want to know.”
“What's that?”
“I think what you're trying to do is that you're trying to make up your own definition of what it means to lead. As far as everyone else is concerned, you're a good leader. You only think you need to be some sort of super-leader. You don't need to do that. It's good to demand a lot of oneself, but you're clearly overdoing it.”
Facyr smiled. “If you say so. It's hard to try not to, though.”
“It's always hard to let go of principles. Just remember that if you set your demands too high, you will reach them much slower. It's hard to jump across a stream if you haven't mastered stepping over a ditch without getting wet, as my father used to say, and your problem is that you're trying to jump over streams, oh, say, cross mighty rivers when all everyone ever asks you is stepping over the ditches. And that is what you already do pretty well, if I say so.” She smiled.
“You're right, you're right”, Facyr said weakly, but more confidently.
“There's something I need to ask you though”, Faira said. “And don't get me wrong, I can't blame you for that, we are, after all, adventurers. But you really haven't ever slept with a woman? I'm not pushing you to, it's just that it seems to me ladies of Anchorfall are queuing to get you.”
“Uh, well”, Facyr began, “I joined the order of Brave Blades when I was twelve, and in the second day of my novicehood, we were gathered to the courtyard of the monastery to attend hanging of a novice who had been caught pants down with the inn wench the previous day. The novice was just fifteen summers old.” He thought. “That sort of experiences tend to make people consider consequences very carefully.”
“Isn't that a bit strange thing to be worried of? I mean, it was not because he was with the wench, it was because he was a novice, right?”
He sighed. “I suppose it's kind of strange to be so scared of that. Yeah, nobody would have complained if he had not been a novice. My younger brother went married when he was at that same age – and he was discharged from the service year earlier due to completely wrecking his left knee.”
“Well, you aren't member of the order any more. Why did you go adventuring, anyway, when every sane person – no, just kidding - would have just settled down, get married, and rested on their laurels?”
“Uh, well, I suppose we were forgotten fast. I'm not important. I bet no one wants to marry a complete nobody.”
“Women marry nobodies all the time, and most of time, they both stay very happy with each other. And you absolutely shouldn't worry, Even without thinking I can list dozen women from Anchorfall who are determined to marry you one day.”
“Like who?”
“Ummm... well, Theylma Athrusdotter for one...”
Facyr's eyes widened. “Daughter of Athrus Timonsson, lord of the Brinefalls manor! I would have never guessed – no wonder she's been trying to be so nice to me.”
“Strictly confidential information known only to everyone who has ever visited the Rolling Winebarrel and talked for a while with the bartender. And don't forget that's just the beginning of the long long list.” Faira adjusted the knapsack she was using as her pillow. Her plan of packing the clothes on the other side and hard things on the other had only been successful partly in producing a comfortable thing to sleep upon. “We probably should sleep now, or I'll only babble incomprehensible things anyway.”
Facyr, quite weakly, tried to make himself rest a bit more comfortably. “One thing though.”
“What?”
Facyr drew a deep breath. “I guess you were just joking when you said you'd sleep with me”, he blushed a bit, voice quivering, “you know, in that other sense?”
Faira grinned. “I guess I was.” She grinned mischievously, just enough to make Facyr doubt a bit.
Facyr thought for a while, coming to a conclusion that she didn't really think he was that desperate, which was probably better. He listened to the few drops of cold rain, dropping on the roof of the tent, and could not expect, at all, an interesting riposte from his friend.
“...but I am going to undress you, dear friend,” Faira said, with a semi-seductive purr. As Facyr seemed to blush in deepest red so far that night, Faira continued a bit more playfully, “Look, there's no way you're going to lie on top of me all night with your overcoat and cloak on, camping life is clumsy enough as it is already.” She laughed again tiredly.
“Still, if I may say... this really is the most erotic moment of my life, as sad it may seem,” Facyr said as he shed his coat with Faira's help.
“It isn't sad at all. Who cares what other people think. And I bet you find yourself in the embrace of your true love soon, even if you may have no idea who that person is right now. Meanwhile, I'm more than happy to just serve as someone who deeply cares about you, no matter what.” She wondered for a while. “All right, I guess I don't know what's the difference between those two things practically, really. I'm happy to be your friend.”
“I really just have to say that I'm extremely honoured to be friends forever with you. And, also, Lord Lucien is terribly lucky to have you, Faira.”
“Oh, thank you. As the folk of Treglin say, 'We're friends, and friends we'll stay, to the day ground burns and the world splits in half', which is a pretty grimly poetic thing from a bunch of fishermen. And completely untrue too, because I don't want a simple thing like end of the world to end our friendship.” Faira grinned. “And I'll say whoever catches you will be the luckiest girl in the world, too. And now I'm not a lucky girl, I'm a stone tired one. Good night, Facyr.”
“Good night, Faira.”
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