Chapter Text
Chapter One: An Unlikely Pair
Clairen had had her doubts about working with Fleet for this mission. Ever since Clairen had arrived in the past six months ago, she had worked alone. Her plasma sword and training as a ranger meant that there were few obstacles she couldn’t handle by herself. She also never knew if any prospective partners might secretly be agents of Emperor Loxodont, looking to stab her in the back.
But on this particular occasion, Clairen had been forced to seek outside help. The labyrinthine mines of Julesvale were notorious for being difficult to navigate, and worse, they were crawling with bandits. Clairen was unfamiliar with the area, and to find what she was seeking, she needed a guide.
The townspeople had recommended Fleet. The fox’s knowledge of the caverns was unmatched, and she had combat experience and a reputation for honesty (a hard thing to come by in Julesvale). Despite her concerns about working with a partner, Clairen had bit the bullet and reached out to her. It was the sensible, careful thing to do.
But now, two hours into what had turned into a grueling slog through the dangerous mines, she was beginning to regret that choice.
“Did you see the look on that bandit’s face when I disarmed him with my arrow, Clairen? I guess you could say I nocked the knife out of his hand! Ha!” Fleet grinned, evidently pleased with herself for the joke.
Clairen sighed. She had learned several things about the fox during their time fighting through the caves.
One, Fleet was a chatterbox. Clairen had stayed stoic and largely silent, preferring not to reveal anything about herself, lest it be used against her. Fleet evidently didn’t hold that view, chattering away constantly about any little thing.
Two, she seemed to believe she was a great hero of Julesvale, an “Archer of Justice” defending the common folk against the greedy, corrupt Badger Co., which had once owned much of the town.
Three, she was clumsy. Worryingly clumsy. While Clairen couldn’t deny her agility or prowess with her bow, the fox had tripped over a rock a half dozen times, accidentally slapped Clairen in the back of the head with her bow, and nearly caused a cave-in after using an explosive arrow.
And four … Fleet loved puns. Clairen had known soldiers who would makes jokes to hide their fear. But Fleet didn’t show any signs of being scared at all. She just adored puns. She made them constantly. And she never seemed to get tired of them.
Unlike Clairen.
“So, Clairen, how did you get that sword, anyway?” Fleet asked as she led them through a dark cavern filled with glittering stalagmites. “I love the colours. The red, the blue—I’m a little jealous! But hee-hee, don’t worry! I’m an archer through-and-through!”
Clairen followed gingerly after her, careful to keep her distance in case Fleet suddenly slipped and fell backwards again. “I would prefer not to discuss that. Can we stay on mission?”
Her guide turned and widened her eyes. “Ooh, mysterious!” she said, waggling her fingers. “Well, could you at least tell me where you got your outfit? The visor is super cool, and I love a good cape! Almost as much as I love a good caper! Ha!”
Clairen grimaced. “Fleet. We need to focus. Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
The fox made an elaborate show of turning in a circle and checking her compass. “Yep! Those thieves you’re looking for should be up ahead.” She strode forward, feeling along the rocky cavern wall, until her fingers found a narrow crevice. Fleet then turned sideways and slipped through to the other side, where a little more light was shining through.
Clairen followed after her, the jagged walls of the crevice brushing uncomfortably against her fur. After squeezing through a few inches of rock, she emerged to find herself at the bottom of what seemed to be an abandoned vertical mineshaft. The shaft was thin, maybe only eight feet wide, and there was a broken remnant of a steel ladder going up the side, now missing most of its rungs. Looking up, she could just barely make out a pinprick of sunlight coming from the top, miles above.
Fleet gestured to a ledge about thirty feet above the ground, where it looked like the entrance to a horizontal shaft had been hollowed out of the cavern. “Just down that shaft is where you’ll find them!”
“The ladder’s broken, though. Is the wall climbable?”
“No need! With my air gem, I can float my way up. After that, I’ll throw you down the rope I have in my pack, and we’ll be up there in no time! Ready?”
Clairen hesitated. “In a moment. Let’s get some water and catch our breath first.”
As they stopped for a rest, Clairen took a second to examine Fleet through her visor. The two of them were a study in contrasts. Clairen, a panther, was short and muscular, while Fleet was tall and lithe. Clairen’s dark hair had been brushed to the back. Fleet’s orange locks curled upward. Clairen’s blood-red cape created a hard juxtaposition against her black fur and grey armoured clothing. Fleet wore a bright purple cloak and boots, with beige trousers, and the loose material was nothing like Clairen’s outfit. It wasn’t ideal for combat, but Clairen knew now that Fleet was a dangerous opponent nonetheless.
She considered her words carefully before she spoke again. “Fleet. I need to … make sure we’re on the same page with this mission. After we beat the thieves, I’d like to interrogate their leader. His name is Larus. He’s an Ibex.”
Fleet frowned. “Why do you need to interrogate him?”
Because he’s not just a thief—he’s a deserter from the Flame Imperium and might have information on how to get to Loxodont, Clairen thought to herself.
“Just to find out if he’s connected to any other criminals,” she said aloud.
“Well, as long as we deliver them to justice, I guess I’m okay with that,” Fleet stated, shrugging. “Besides, I have the perfect thing for interrogations!”
“Oh?” Clairen had a sinking feeling this wasn’t going to be anything good.
Fleet reached into the quiver on her back, fiddling around in it until she pulled out a single arrow. Unlike her normal arrows, it had a golden shaft, and the arrowhead was significantly bigger, taking the form of a bright red heart. Clairen thought she could see golden sparkles playing about the tip, but she wasn’t sure if it was just a trick of the light.
“Take a look at my all-new Instant Love Arrow!” Fleet announced proudly.
Yeah, this definitely can’t be good, Clairen thought.
The fox continued talking excitedly. “Designed to be totally nonlethal, the arrowhead will stop as soon as it pierces the skin! On a direct hit, the target becomes completely infatuated with the shooter! They’ll go along with whatever you say, because they’ll be too lovey-dovey for anything else!”
A vision of Fleet misfiring her bow and the Instant Love Arrow ricocheting off the cavern walls played in Clairen’s head. “Uh, I don’t know if this is such a good idea … doesn’t the effect seem a little … drastic?”
Fleet shook her head. “No, no. I also have an arrow capable of reversing the effect. And the best part is, it won’t wear off otherwise, so we don’t have to be worried about being on a timer or anything!”
If anything, that only made Clairen feel more worried. She could see a hundred different ways firing the arrow could go wrong. But her guide was right—it would be perfect for asking questions. As long as she made sure that Larus was hit by that arrow, she’d have her answers, and know them to be truthful.
“Fine,” she said eventually. “Just be careful where you point it.”
“Of course!” Fleet exclaimed. “Ooh, this is going to be so much fun, partner!”
Clairen glared at her. “We are not partners. This is a one-off mission.”
Fleet looked taken aback. In fact, Clairen could have sworn that the fox’s ears visibly wilted in response to Clairen’s retort. Even the tuft of hair on the top of her head seemed to droop slightly.
Great, Clairen thought. Not only is she accident-prone, she’s also emotionally sensitive.
Clairen wasn’t great with handling these kinds of situations, but she didn’t like the idea of going into a fight with a fellow combatant in poor spirits (and certainly not when she was responsible for those feelings). As uncomfortable as it was, she would have to try and restore them somehow.
“Look,” she said. “I work alone. It’s nothing personal. Besides, the townspeople said you had a partner already. A bunny engineer, or something.”
Fleet looked down and scratched at the back of her neck. “Uh, yes. I mean, we were partners. But she loved machines so much, and she got a big contract back in the Flame Imperium. She still visits sometimes, and she’s a good friend, but I’m mostly operating alone again. And the other townspeople … well, I’ve caused a lot of property damage over the years. They know I mean well, but … no one really wants to work with me. Not really.”
Clairen winced. “Oh. Well, for what it’s worth, the townspeople did still recommend you to me. So there’s that. And, uh, you’ve really been a great guide. It’s just, you know … like I said, I work alone.”
Fleet lifted her head and managed a wonky-looking smile. “I get it. Don’t worry.” The fox took a second and seemed to compose herself, blowing out a breath. “Anyway, we’ve got some thieves to stop!” she announced, some cheer coming back into her voice. “Let’s air them out, shall we?”
As Fleet finished the sentence, she immediately performed a lightning-fast backflip. The same moment, a burst of wind erupted from below her, blowing back the fur in Clairen’s face and launching the fox several feet above the ground. Fleet twisted in the air, aiming her bow downward and releasing an arrow, generating another, softer, gust of wind that carried Fleet slowly up the shaft. Fleet crossed her legs, seeming completely calm, and floated gracefully toward the ledge of the horizontal shaft.
As frustrated as she was with her, Clairen had to admit it was beautiful.
Fleet gradually reached the opening and landed gently on the edge. As her feet hit the ground, she made a flourish with her arm and exclaimed, “Ta-da! And now … a rope trick!”
Looking up at a steep angle, Clairen saw Fleet throw her pack down on the ground and open it. Fleet hummed a jaunty tune to herself as she ruffled through the bag.
And then she kept ruffling through the bag. And kept ruffling through the bag.
Eventually, Fleet’s humming turned nervous and higher-pitched. After a full minute, she stood up shakily and called to Clairen over the ledge.
“Clairen … I … I forgot the rope.”
Clairen had to keep herself from facepalming. Just my luck. “Oh, for the love of … fine. We’re back to my original question. Is the wall climbable?”
Fleet cringed, looking as if she was afraid that Clairen was going to pelt stones at her. “Um. No. It’s really slippery and there’s no good handholds. That’s why I packed the rope. I mean, um, that’s why I meant to pack the rope.”
Clairen let out a low growl and ran her hand through her hair. “Then how am I going to get up, Fleet?”
Fleet cringed some more. “W-well. My air gem has magical properties. I mean, obviously. You know that. Sorry. B-but, what I mean is, it’s not weight dependent. I, um. I … I could … I could carry you,” she squeaked out.
Well, that’s a little embarrassing. “… Fine. I suppose I’ll hop on your back, then?”
The fox looked away nervously. “N-not exactly. To make the balance work, I’d have to have the weight of our bags and the weight of … you … evenly distributed. And the best way to do that would be to have both our bags on my back and then I … um …” Fleet trailed off and proceeded to mime sweeping up Clairen in her arms, like a valiant prince would a fainting maiden.
Clairen tried not to picture herself as a fainting maiden and failed utterly. She felt her face begin to burn. I used to be an imperial ranger. And now I have to be humiliated by a fox with memory issues.
“I … are you sure the walls aren’t scalable? Absolutely sure?”
Fleet shook her head. “Clairen, I’m really sorry … they’re not. I’ve tried.”
Clairen felt helpless. She considered something, anything that could work as an alternative. Could she use her sword to cut the rock and make handholds? She wasn’t sure she had that kind of fine control. And it would waste time. Not for the first time, Clairen wished she had brought more advanced technology with her into the past. She vaguely remembered some kind of magnetic device that would do the trick.
In the end, Clairen was forced to conclude that there was only one option.
Fleet would have to carry her.
- - -
The flight up, mercifully, had been short.
After Clairen had reluctantly given the OK for the maneuver, Fleet had descended again. Without looking at Clairen’s eyes, and apologizing profusely, Fleet had positioned Clairen. Luckily, the fox had once again been graceful in flight, and the power of the air gem had carried them both to the ledge. Clairen had squeezed her eyes shut on the way up, trying to ignore the feeling of Fleet’s arms shakily clutching her and the mental image of herself looking like a kitten curled up in someone’s arms.
Now, the two of them stood at the entrance to a small tunnel that took a sharp bend to the right just ahead. Torchlight shined around the bend, and Clairen could hear whispered voices emerging from the area.
Clairen still itched with embarrassment, refusing to look directly at Fleet. She desperately wanted this mission to come to a close. This, she thought, is why I work alone.
Fleet, for her part, was also silent for a change. The humiliation of the carrying had seemed to get through to her, and she flinched slightly every time Clairen moved.
Unfortunately, Clairen knew they would have to converse before entering the next room. “Okay,” she whispered. “I think we can both agree that we should never again discuss what just happened.”
Looking grateful, Fleet gave a shaky nod.
Clairen continued. “We need to reconcentrate on the mission. The hideout is just around that corner. Based on the info I found, there should be four thieves, including Larus. He might have a sword, but the other three should just have knives. They won’t be expecting an attack, and certainly not one by two people. I’ll move in quick and catch them by surprise. You’ll cover me with ranged support.”
Fleet nodded, looking focused again, and drew an arrow. “These thieves will soon know the name of the Archer of Justice,” she said in a confident whisper. “And your name too, of course. I mean, if you tell them. I get the sense you’re kind of private?”
Clairen ignored her. As long as Fleet stayed out of her way, this would go off without a hitch. She had fought far worse enemies than this, and even with a numbers disadvantage, Clairen was confident the battle would be quick. She made sure her cape was fastened tightly and drew her sword.
With an effort of will, the hilt of the sword emitted a burst of white-hot plasma, a deep red at the base and an electric blue at the tip. The heat comforted Clairen, and the sword, as always, felt like a natural extension of her arm. All of the embarrassment of the earlier moments faded away; she was a warrior, entering her element now.
Clairen lifted her blade in a tight two-handed grip and strode forward quietly, stopping just before the bend in the tunnel. Fleet advanced slowly behind her, keeping a good distance. She has good intuition for tactics, at least, Clairen thought.
Her heart rate rising, Clairen took a moment to listen at the corner. The sound of voices was close; the thieves were probably no more than 20 feet away. The voices sounded relaxed and jocular. It didn’t seem like they were ready for an attack or on their guard.
Clairen chanced a glance around the bend. The quick glimpse confirmed her suspicions: No one was on watch. The hideout was a small, circular cavern, barely big enough to fit the wooden card table that stood at the centre. Three people were seated at it, drinking and rolling dice by the light of an oil lamp. Larus, however, was leaning against the far wall, eyes closed and horns resting against the rock.
The time to strike was now. Clairen rounded the corner, sprinting toward the table and lifting her sword to the side. She was only vaguely aware of Fleet following behind.
The rush of battle filled her mind, and time seemed to slow. Senses sharpened by adrenaline, Clairen noticed Larus open his eyes, surprise and fear showing on his face as Clairen burst into the room. The dice players looked shocked. Two of them managed to grab their knives and inch back from the table, but the other, a gawky-looking meercat wearing a pair of dirty overalls, was slow and fumbled with his hands as he tried to stand up. Clairen closed the distance between them easily, and in a fluid motion, slashed her sword from the thief’s shoulder down to his hip—hitting him precisely with the tip of her blade.
A blast of deep blue electricity engulfed the meercat’s body, and he howled in pain, convulsing and dropping to the floor. Clairen had altered the sword’s plasma so that it wouldn’t be fatal, but it would be a while before the thief regained motor control. He was out of this fight.
The other two dice players were smart, though. They had backed well out of Clairen’s range and were now wielding long, curved knives—and they looked like they knew how to use them. One of them, a gazelle wearing a short black dress, faced her squarely, while the other, a powerful-looking ox, was attempting to circle around to her back. It was a good strategy … if she had been alone.
Instead, as soon as the ox started moving to the side, Fleet was ready. Clairen heard the arrow before she saw it, shooting from behind her and hurtling toward the ox’s knee. But the ox was fast; noticing Fleet for the first time, he rolled to the side, barely dodging the projectile and emerging directly behind the gazelle to face Clairen. As Clairen took a few experimental steps to the side, both the gazelle and ox mirrored her, staying in line with each other.
Clairen’s eyes narrowed. The two were keeping her between them and Fleet. They had taken the archer out of the equation; she couldn’t shoot, unless she wanted to risk hitting her ally.
Larus, meanwhile, was crouched behind the table, seemingly preferring to let his lackeys handle the situation. Clairen moved laterally, hoping to draw one of them out so that Fleet could get a clear shot. The thieves impressed her again, however. They matched Clairen’s footwork perfectly, refusing to overcommit to a particular movement.
Clairen gritted her teeth. She dared not rush them; she felt confident in taking one of them down, but the other would be able to swiftly attack if she committed to an assault. However, she also had to fear a coordinated attack from the thieves. The more time she gave them, the more the shock of her surprise strike would wear off, allowing them to form a plan and work in tandem.
The clock was ticking. Clairen quickly considered her options—and landed on a risky one. During their trek through the caverns, Fleet had been clumsy and forgetful. But she had also been uncommonly quick, and she seemed to have a natural sense for combat.
Against her better judgment, Clairen put her trust in the archer. She raised her sword as if to charge, making the two thieves plant themselves in a defensive posture.
Then she threw herself to the ground as hard and quick as she could.
The thieves’ faces fell as they realized that they were now completely exposed to Fleet. They had been expecting a charge and had reacted accordingly, and they now found themselves completely unprepared to suddenly dodge a ranged attack. The ox began to roll again, but this time, Fleet was quicker. Her arrow, loosed at incredible speed, caught him directly in the hamstring, and the big man went down with a short, strangled scream, unable to support his own weight.
Fleet let out an excited cry and shouted, “Thanks for the target practice!”
Clairen, meanwhile, had been ready to act. As soon as she heard the arrow fly, she pushed herself to her feet, now moving in a real charge toward the gazelle, who was currently halfway between a dodge and a defensive posture. Clairen took advantage of the confused stance and stabbed her sword directly at the woman’s centre of mass, once again scoring a direct hit. The flash of blue from the electric attack illuminated the cavern, casting long shadows over the room.
Three thieves were down, and one remained. Larus snarled from behind the table, lowering his horns and looking wildly between Clairen and Fleet. He was wearing an older version of a Flame Imperium soldier’s uniform, with several pins and trinkets added on. Clairen raised her sword, approaching slowly, while Fleet kept her distance once again, ready to draw another arrow.
Larus drew a long, elegant sword from a scabbard on his side and stood up. “So. Looks like the Imperium finally found me. I should warn you, though … I won’t go down easily. No matter what fancy swords you have,” he spat.
Fleet bristled at that. “We’re not with the Imperium! I’m the Archer of Justice, here to protect the citizens of Julesvale!”
Larus laughed. “Do-gooders. The people of Julesvale don’t need protection. They want our stolen wares. We’re just good businesspeople.”
Fleet glared at him and drew an arrow.
Specifically, the Instant Love Arrow.
Amidst the clarity of battle, Clairen felt a rush of anxiety. The image of the arrow ricocheting returned to her mind. She couldn’t help but think that they were one Fleet accident from throwing this battle away.
The logical play was to let Fleet shoot. Larus had no way of closing the distance between them, and short of a lucky dodge, Fleet had him exactly where she wanted. If Clairen attacked instead, Larus would have a chance against her.
Clairen had trusted Fleet earlier in the battle, and it had paid off. But what were the odds that Fleet would fire yet another arrow without slipping, or faceplanting, or accidentally shooting herself? Clairen had seen firsthand how clumsy Fleet was, and she had only been around her for a couple hours. She wasn’t sure she could afford to keep pushing her luck by putting her fate in Fleet’s hands. At the end of the day, Clairen was used to solving problems herself. And she was damned good at it.
Clairen made her decision. With Larus focused on Fleet, Clairen suddenly rushed him, sword prepared to swing from below and catch him on the jaw. Like the other thieves, though, Larus was quick. He jerked his head back at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the tip of Clairen’s blade.
Then he did something Clairen didn’t expect. Instead of retreating backwards out of range, Larus suddenly took a hard step forward and swung his own blade upwards—hitting the hilt of Clairen’s sword and sending it tumbling out of her grip toward the entrance of the room.
The blade’s fire extinguished immediately.
With a cry of triumph, the taller Larus grabbed Clairen by the front and twisted her around, placing her in a firm headlock, his left arm heavy on her neck. With his other arm, he brought his sword up and placed the tip directly on Clairen’s throat.
Clairen thrashed and squirmed in the ex-soldier’s grip, but he was strong, and he clearly knew the proper technique. Clairen began to panic. Larus had her dead to rights. All he had to do was move his sword from left to right, and it was over. She knew the kind of man he was, too. He wouldn’t hesitate.
Except he did hesitate. With a small rush of hope, Clairen realized that even though she had been bested, Larus still had to worry about Fleet. If he killed Clairen, Fleet would be able to shoot him immediately. He needed Clairen as a live hostage.
Fleet, for her part, looked shocked—but not frightened. Instead, she faced Larus down with a look of determination, bow at the ready.
Larus’s hands were steady. “Put down the bow, fool. Let me leave the cavern in peace, and I’ll let your partner live.”
Fleet’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I won’t just shoot you?”
Larus laughed scornfully. “I have her positioned directly in front of me. She’s short, I’ll give you that, but at most, you have an inch to shoot at. I can see your hands shaking. If you loose an arrow, you could easily hit her.”
Fleet stared at him. Clairen’s heart pounded as she considered what Fleet would do. The fox displayed a lot of confidence in her archery skills. But if she shot and missed, or hit Clairen, Larus would slash Clairen’s throat and then run before Fleet could nock another arrow. Fleet would have to play along. Larus would probably still kill Clairen, but the risk of shooting was too great. Even a self-styled “hero” wouldn’t be that daring.
A few seconds went by that felt like an eternity to Clairen. Finally, Fleet huffed out a breath. “Fine. I’ll put the bow down if you put the sword down.”
Clairen breathed a sigh of relief. She could feel Larus relax slightly as well. As Fleet slowly lowered the bow in her hands, Larus did the same with his sword, still keeping Clairen in a headlock.
Then Fleet, moving as fast as anyone Clairen had ever seen, raised her bow in a blur and fired in an instant.
Several things happened at once.
Larus tensed and jerked the sword back up, but it never got to Clairen’s throat.
Clairen heard the hiss of the Instant Love Arrow as it passed her.
The arrow lodged itself in Larus’ collarbone, perhaps a tenth of an inch above Clairen.
And Clairen felt a small stinging sensation in her left shoulder.
Larus crumpled to the ground, seemingly in a daze, and Fleet let out an enormous sound of relief, falling to her knees and shaking. The room went quiet.
Clairen felt a mixture of terror and relief as she contemplated how quickly the situation had changed. She couldn’t believe Fleet had shot. It was a miracle that she hadn’t been hit.
Or had she? Clairen’s attention was drawn to the slight pain in her shoulder, and she looked down at it. The arrow had seemingly nicked her as it had gone by, tearing the fabric of the cloak and leaving a shallow, vertical cut across her shoulder.
Oh, no …
She had been hit by the Instant Love Arrow. A small hit, yes, but did that matter? Was she going to be humiliated by Fleet again?
Clairen forced herself to breathe. The arrow had not lodged in her. It had broken the skin slightly, but the arrow probably worked with some kind of chemical that needed to seep into the skin. It was unlikely that she would be affected, given that it had only hit her for a brief moment—not even a millisecond.
And besides. As she turned her gaze back to Fleet, she wasn’t feeling anything like love or infatuation. She was feeling something very different.
“I can’t believe you just shot at me!” Clairen shouted, her voice boiling with anger.
Fleet glanced up from the floor, looking exhausted. “Well, technically I didn’t shoot at you …”
Clairen glared at her. “You know what I mean. That could’ve been a disaster. If you negotiated, he might have let us both leave alive. You took a terrible risk. I could’ve died.”
Clairen expected Fleet to be cowed, to react by looking away and stuttering nervously like she had earlier.
But Fleet surprised her. She met Clairen’s gaze, and Clairen found herself looking at steel. “I’ve been protecting this town my whole life,” Fleet said, her voice hard. “I’ve known hundreds of men like him. I could see it in his eyes. The moment I lower my bow and he gets past me, he kills you and runs without a second thought. I had to take that shot. Just because you don’t trust my abilities doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”
Clairen couldn’t think of a good answer for that.
The two of them sat in silence for a while, catching their breath. Eventually, Clairen spoke.
“I apologize. I shouldn’t have rushed him. You’re probably right that he was going to kill me anyway. And … thank you.”
Fleet smiled, and the steel was gone in an instant, replaced by the happy-go-lucky personality Clairen had gotten used to. “Oh, it’s no biggie! We won the day in the end. I told you we would make a great team!”
Clairen tried to think of a reply. Fleet had saved her life and displayed a surprising amount of skill, but truthfully, Clairen didn’t think they had made a very good team. The jokes had been bad enough. The carrying was just the cherry on top. Their personalities simply didn’t mesh.
Thankfully, she was saved from responding by Larus sitting up and rubbing his eyes groggily. After blinking a few times, his eyes eventually shifted to Fleet, and he suddenly lit up in a swooning expression that Clairen doubted had ever crossed his face before.
“Hey, um, archer lady. You’re really pretty,” Larus said in a dreamy voice.
Fleet laughed. “Why, thank you! You know, you could really make me happy by answering this woman’s questions,” she said, pointing a thumb at Clairen.
Larus nodded eagerly. “Sure, sure. Whatever you want!”
Clairen shook her head. She was very glad the Instant Love Arrow hadn’t affected her. What an embarrassing situation.
But she couldn’t dwell on that. It was time for some interrogation.
- - -
Later that night, Clairen was back at her temporary lodgings in Julesvale, a tiny apartment she was renting out for a month. She made her way to the small bedroom, sore from the day’s fighting, and sat down on the firm mattress.
Larus hadn’t known much. Evidently, his superiors had considered him unreliable, so he hadn’t had a lot of access to information about the royal palace or Loxodont specifically. Clairen had managed to get some names, including some other deserters, as well as a few bits of information about the army and Loxodont’s hopes of expansion, but it wasn’t what she had hoped for. Eventually, she had let Fleet take the thieves into justice and returned to her apartment.
In spite of herself, Clairen found herself tearing up. She had lost everything. Everyone. Left her own time behind. She had made it her life’s mission to destroy Loxodont once and for all, and she was failing. Her progress was slow. She hadn’t been able to find her ancestors. The palace was too heavily guarded for a direct assault to be possible. And she was alone in this fight.
Clairen punched the side of her bedframe in frustration. All that work today … for scraps. Small embers of hope that would burn in the morning and die in the night.
No, Clairen thought. Banish those thoughts for now. They won’t help you. Stay on mission. Stay focused.
She tried to put her mind back in a more positive place. The mission today had gone surprisingly well, really. The thieves had been stopped, she got her questions answered, and Fleet had been highly competent at the end, despite all of her other frustrating habits.
Clairen took off her visor and placed it on her nightstand. As she prepared to sleep, she idly considered that partnering up hadn’t been great, but it hadn’t been the end of the world, either. If nothing else, Fleet certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes.
She shook her head. She was being foolish. Such thoughts were clearly the work of an overtired brain.
She closed her eyes and drifted off, the aches in her muscles fading away. The last thing to fade was the cut on her shoulder, a small, warm pain lulling her to sleep.