The Halls: Erynn

The Halls: Erynn Part 2

His horse looked a lot more content in the stall than he did earlier, following Gerude down the street. As the doors opened, he tossed his shaggy head and whickered, then went back to scarfing down hay like it was something he hadn't seen in years. Judging from the appreciable roundness of his gut, I would have to argue that the horse was a lying glutton.

Gerude strolled over and slapped Nocturne on the neck. "Doing alright there, big fella?"

Nocturne snorted in his face, spraying chewed hay on his coat, then lowered his head and went back to eating. Gerude brushed at the soggy clumps with cheerful dismay. "Damned horse. I just cleaned this coat."

"My aunt Caroline does laundry."

"Yeah, thanks, kid. I'll look her up in a bit. I'm only going to get it dirtier later." He eased himself into the stall with Nocturne, running his hands over the black coat, tilting his head and running his fingers against the lay of the hair. "Perhaps not. Whoever brushed him down did an excellent job."

I grinned. "Caleb takes pride in caring for the horses, si-- Gerude. He cares for little else."

Gerude smiled, a tiny tuck of the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I know the type." He gave Nocturne's rump a couple of solid smacks, then let himself back out. "Well, since I don't have to spend a couple of hours currying my horse, what say we find some food and talk over that instead?"

I really meant to turn him down politely, as Ma wasn't keen on me bumming meals off of others, but my traitorous teenage stomach overruled me. Loudly. Gerude laughed. "Show me where to go, kid."

"What kind of fare do you prefer?"

"Anything that doesn't taste like trail food."

I wrinkled my nose. "What does trail food taste like?"

Gerude sighed. "When you travel with me? Burned."

I frowned, thinking. "Well, that rules out Ike's place, then. Let's head over to Grandma Lettie's."

He followed me out of the stable, turning one last time to look over Nocturne's accommodations. They met his approval, just as they had five minutes ago, so he planted his hat on his head and followed me into the twilight.

Robinstead looks a lot better at night, with the darkness disguising a lot of the bland shabbiness of the place as homely warmth. It was still warm enough in early fall that people were enjoying their final meal of the day outside, bringing out their tables and chairs and lanterns. Most waved as we walked past, calling out their "grand evenings" and, in a couple of cases, lifting their hats in greeting to Gerude. He tipped his hat in return, whether or not they had initiated the gesture, taking care to be unfailingly polite even when the resident in question did no more than glare our way. The yellow glow of the road-lamps made walking easy, and before long I was tromping along the boardwalk in front of Grandma Lettie's. As I opened the door to enter, I caught Gerude looking in the window with a mild expression of shock.

"Kid, this place... this is your grandmother's?"

"Yep," I said. "She makes a decent meal, and the entertainment isn't bad."

Gerude gave me a funny look, then laughed. "I guess so, kid. Just wasn't what I expected."

I shrugged as he passed me. "Men get hungry in a place like this."

The girls looked up in unison at the sound of our boots hitting the hardwood floor, resembling for all the world a clan of painted ground dogs. "Erynn!" they called, also in chorus. I waved and found a small empty table. Gerude looked around as he sat, nearly missing his chair with his lack of attention. Rua wandered over, giving Gerude a long look-over. "Well, Erynn, what have you dragged in with you tonight?"

"This is Gerude," I said, nodding in his direction. "He's a guest."

Gerude stood and bowed with a flourish, introducing himself. Unlike the speech he gave me, he ended this one by taking Rua's hand and brushing a kiss on the back of it. Rua actually blushed, looking back at me.

"Make sure you make more friends like this, Erynn," she giggled.

"Rua," a crackly old voice snapped, "qui' until they done eat, girl!"

Rua rolled her eyes at me, and I snickered. "Good evening, grandmother," I said, standing and hugging her.

"Goodness, yer a tall whelp, ain't ya," she said, pinching my chin and returning the hug. "Swear yer grown a ha'inch since las' week." She looked me over with her sly old lady eyes. "Gonna wet yer pricker yet, son?"

I turned beet red, and Gerude laughed. Grandma turned her attention on him and grinned.

"Ah, lookit the sweetmeat yer done dragged in. Welcome, welcome!"

"And greetings to you as well, my lady," Gerude said, bowing again and brushing a kiss on the back of her gnarled hand, his eyes shining with barely-contained laughter.

Grandma chuckled, and I admit I was a little surprised she didn't blush, too. Gerude just seemed like the kind of man to have that effect on the fairer sex. "Make sure yer avail yerself of our hospitality, y'hear?" she said with a wink.

"We'll see," he said kindly. "Right now, I can think of little else besides this growl in my stomach."

"Well, yer leave that to me, boy," Grandma said. "I'll fex that right well." She waddled back off to the kitchens, and as she disappeared we heard her barking orders.

Gerude watched as she disappeared, then looked back at me. "That... she..." He finally gave up and let loose his laughter, burying his face in his arms on the table. His laughter was contagious, and soon we were both wiping tears from our eyes. "I want to take her home and introduce her to my father."

I choked, wondering why the blazes Gerude would want to introduce a withered brothel ma'am to the Judge, and after a moment's thought, decided to just ask. Gerude laughed, shaking his head. "Dad's just like that. He..." Gerude folded his hands under his chin, looking towards the kitchen thoughtfully. "Dad's kind of connoisseur of women. He genuinely seems to enjoy them, even if it's a baffled sort of fascination."

"Well, isn't that true of all guys?" I asked.

"No, not really," he said, unfolding his hands and toying with the silverware. "Not to the degree my dad takes it. He really is..." His hands twirled through the air as if reaching for just the right words. I watched his fingertips, curious as to whether or not he'd actually be able to pluck them out of the air. Halfway through the fourth twirl, he caught me watching his fingertips and, to my amusement, watched them as well through the rest of the gesture. "That really isn't helping, is it," he muttered.

"Helping what?"

"I don't remember." He chuckled and waggled his fingertips.

"Weel, boy, iffen yer wantin' that kind o' company, I'm sure I ken skeer some up fer yer."

I inhaled my spit and started in on a spectacular choking fit while Grandma set down the plates. Gerude wasn't faring much better, his snort having set off his own coughing spasm.

"No thank you, ma'am," he managed to sputter. "I wouldn't want to put you out any."

"Oh, dint worry none 'bout it," she cackled. "I'll be sure an' cheerge yer the price annen some." She looked him over, her hands balled on her rather expansive hips. "Whatcher pref'rence, boy?"

"Girls," Gerude said, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking with silent laughter. "Truly, ma'am, I'm not looking for company tonight, although I promise you that should I change my mind on the matter, I will seek your opinion on the matter first."

"Yer better," she said, waggling a finger at him. "I know my puss, and believe yer me I kin match yer flavor right off." She grinned as he finally turned bright red and gave in to the laughter with his face buried in his palms.

"Please, lady, I beseech you," he cried, "I will starve to death enjoying your company."

Grandma laughed, then turned and rapped me on the head with her bony knuckles. "Eat yer supper, pup, or yer ma will hear frem me."

"Yes 'm," I said, my mouth already working on the first mouthful of biscuits and gravy.

One last smile for Gerude and a final glare at me, and Grandma waddled her way around the corner into the back of the building.

It took Gerude several minutes of recovery to start in on his plate, but he made short work of it.

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The Halls: Erynn Part 3

"You still haven't told me about the Poets," I reminded him before he even managed to get the first bite of strawberry pie to his mouth.

He nodded, choosing the pie over a vocal response. He held up one finger as he chewed, then grinned. "Never fear, kid. Pie comes first, though."

"I'd make sure you came first," one of the girls murmured near his ear as she passed, then winked. Gerude's cheeks matched the strawberries for a moment, and the girls laughed.

"Do they ever stop?"

"Have you met my grandmother?" I retorted, digging into my own dessert.

He lifted his fork in salute.

As he chewed, he furrowed his eyebrows, staring as if inspecting the curls hanging in front of his face. He swallowed, then tapped his teeth with a fingernail. "Poets," he muttered.

I did my level best to give him my full attention. It was difficult with the girls putting on an impromptu show on the bar.

"Well, kid," he said, jabbing at a bit of crust, "Poets work word-magic. I guess."

I blinked at him, nodding encouragingly. He frowned, then took another bite of pie.

Then chewed.

And chewed.

I was going to go mad before he actually finished.

Several years later, he finally swallowed. "They do funny stuff with words. I'm not exactly sure what." He looked up again, pursing his lips. "To be honest, they're an odd bunch. Fun to be around, though. Those Poets can keep up with the Armed at a bar, and that's not easy to do."

I stared at him. This... somehow I expected more. He looked at me, and seemed to catch the stunned disappointment on my face. He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, kid, I'm Armed. My job is to shoot things, not talk about them until my opponent dies of boredom."

"You know," I said slowly, spearing a strawberry, "that right there is probably the most helpful thing you've said about them."

Gerude laughed. "Yeah, it describes them pretty well." He looked at me, bringing his hands down and clasping them, resting his chin on his fingers. "Say, kid... want to come back with me? See for yourself?"

The idea hit me like a stone to the head. Go? Leave Robinstead? I hadn't dared... as much as I might have toyed with disappearing somewhere, the idea of leaving... well, we didn't do that here. People were born in Robinstead, they grew up in Robinstead, and they stayed in Robinstead.

Leave? ...I could leave.

"I'll have to think about it," I said, and popped the strawberry in my mouth.

Gerude nodded. "Of course."

I did think about it, of course. It wasn't much, since my only thoughts were Damn, I can leave? and Wait, I really can leave? and Hot damn, I can leave, and nobody will come after me because nobody else will leave!

"I suppose I'll go," I said.

Gerude grinned. "Well then. Looks like I'll have company on the way back, after all. Got a horse, kid?"

"He kin ha' mine."

I just about peed myself. For a fat old lady, Grandma was remarkably light-footed. Gerald smiled up at her. "That's awful kind of you, ma'am."

Grandma grinned back down at him. "Ye ha' to prom'se to visit, now," she said, whacking him lightly on the head with her bar towel.

"How about I do you one better?" Gerude said, pulling his hat over his head and covering his chest. "Would you do us the honor of accompanying us on our trip?"

Grandma's smile dimmed a little. "Aw, son. I be a mite old fer that kin' o' trip. That, an' I has my girls ta look after."

"That, my lady, is something I shall regret." Gerude replaced his hat. "I do give my word to return this way and pay my proper respects."

"Yer do that," she said, then bellowed her laughter. "Yer do that, son, and I'll see ta it that yer unable to ser much as blink the next morn."

Gerude's mouth opened and closed a few times. "Y... yes, ma'am," he said, then stood. "Thank you for the meal--"

"Git yer hand outter yer pocket, boy, it's my pleasure."

He bowed low, and I smiled and mouthed my thanks to my grandmother. She grinned at me and whacked me with the end of her towel, snapping the end hard enough to leave a small mark on my arm. "Git yer goin' boy, biffore yer ma finds out what yer up to."

"Yes ma'am," I said, and hurried out the door after Gerude.

---

He turned around for what had to be the five hundredth time and shook his head. "Erynn, it was really kind of your grandmother to provide you with that horse, but..."

"You don't understand," I said, half-heartedly urging Dippy to move just a little faster. "Grandma would have found a way to reach out and make me miserable, no matter how far I traveled, had I left this creature behind."

Dippy snorted and refused to make any change whatsoever in his speed.

Gerude sighed, then abruptly sat up straight and grinned. "Hey, kid, wanna make this journey go a whole lot faster?" I didn't say anything -- Gerude didn't give me any time to reply. He motioned me over, grinning like a loon. "Now don't tell anyone I told you about this, or I'll get in a heap of trouble, OK? Get down."

We dismounted. Gerude looked up at the sky and grinned. "Clouds. Perfect!" He shoved his hands in his pockets. "OK, kid, you see those clouds up there?"

I looked up. There were clouds up there, all right. Lots of them, and they were pretty darn low, too. Any lower and we'd be calling it fog. "Yeah, I see them."

"Great. Now, see them getting lower until it's foggy." I blinked at him. He grinned and nodded. "Just pretend you're pulling them down with your mind. Imagine it happening."

I looked up at the clouds again, and sure enough, they seemed just a little lower. I shrugged and jammed my hands in my pocket. There was a nice chunk of cloud coming that was brushing the ground, and I grinned. It looked a bit like some old man with silver robes descending onto the ground, slowly dancing a waltz with his ghostly silver queen, dipping and twirling around us. I could feel them brush by us, enveloping us, their robes the cold mist itself.

"Great!" Gerude said. "Good job."

I shook myself out of my reverie and looked after him as he grabbed our horses' reins and led them over. "Um, alright. Now it's foggy. How is this going to get us to the Capitol faster?"

"That's the next step," he said, handing me Dippy's lead. "Good job calling the fog."

I snorted. I just watched the fog, but whatever made him happy, I guess.

"Let me tell you a bit about the Capitol," he said, taking the lead through the fog. "It's surrounded completely by a stone wall, as tall as five men. The only way in or out is through two large stone gates. They're made of a lighter gray stone than the rest of the wall, and there's some rather nice ironwork at the top. The seal of Radia," he said, tracing it in the air with his finger, "with some scrollwork at the side to make it prettier." He chuckled. "There's two guard towers on either side, built halfway into the wall and reaching halfway..."

As he talked, I began to form a picture of it in my mind. I could see the people walking in and out of the open gates, the guards on the outside watching the people coming and going with carefully affected casualness, and I could feel the more stringent regard of the guards hidden away in the towers themselves. There were flags at the top of the walls, and I imagined I could hear them snapping in the sudden breeze.

Before me, the breeze blew the fog out of the way, and I yelled my surprise.

"And here we are," Gerude said, clapping my shoulder. "Good job, especially for a new guy!"

"Yes," a new, low voice drawled. "Good job indeed, Armed. It takes a particular talent for instruction to walk the untrained through a Pass."

Gerude, already a fairly pale fellow, went sheet white and turned. Curious in spite of my growing feeling of dread, I turned as well.

A tall man, very tall man, stood behind us, casually tapping what looked like a very large hayfork in his hands. He had the most awful grin on his face, like he was contemplating taking Gerude's face off with that large hayfork. In fact, he looked quite a bit like Gerude, if Gerude lost a bunch of weight and aged a bi--

Oh. Oh shit.

"Now, 'Sy. We have need for talented instructors. Please don't destroy the ones who crop up all on their own."

In my sudden terror, I hadn't noticed the Judge's companion, a slightly shorter man, but no less regal. Definitely regal -- he had a crown on his head and everything. The Judge wasn't bowing or anything, and actually seemed rather in charge, which was a little confusing. Was it some minor king, then? Or just a fancy weird hat that city folk wore? He seemed quietly amused at my staring, and gave me a measuring look in return. "I do think I'll have a little chat with this one, though. Gerude may be an undiscovered tutoring prodigy, but he seems to have uncovered a prodigy of his own."

The Judge shrugged, flipping the hayfork thing in his hands. On the third twirl, it glowed a soft blue and blurred, becoming a long blade. He sheathed the sword, glaring at Gerude as he did. "Let's go have a chat, son," he said, striding past us and walking through the gates. Gerude gave me a resigned look, then followed. As I started after them, a hand fell on my shoulder, gently restraining me.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," the man said, "would you join me for tea?"

I blinked and nodded, then belatedly remembered my manners. "Please forgive the lack of introduction, sir. I am Blackirons Erynn, late of Robinstead." I gave a bow, then added a little more depth, just in case.

The man smiled. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Erynn. I am Eleth-travente, Jhe h'Logos l'Radia, and in behalf of my Hall and my Realm I welcome you."

I wobbled and my knees hit the ground. "B-beg your pardon, Jhe h'Logos..." Still on my knees, I swooped into a much lower bow, scraping my knuckles on the ground, my nose hitting the cold dirt. Bad enough that I hadn't paid proper respects to the Judge, but to misstep with another...

My grandmother is going to murder me in my dreams.

"Please, stand," he said, his voice kind. I warily clambered to my feet, dusting my knees off as I rose. He held out a hand, gesturing me to proceed through the gates. "Let us go have tea and get to know each other, yes? I have the most delightful feeling that you've got a few stories to tell me."

In a daze, I nodded, watching him as he moved past me, his robes brushing my legs. The only thought I could manage as I followed him through the gates was a dazed curiosity about how much they weighed.

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The Halls: Erynn Part 4

Nothing in my entire life up to that point could have prepared me for my first walk through the Capitol Complex. It was noisy, noisier than anything I had ever experienced in my life before then. The noise seemed like a living thing, like the roar of a dragon on top of everybody I ever knew shouting at the top of their lungs all at once. The noise was a blanket on top of layers and layers of scents, from the mouth-watering warmth of fresh bread to the sharp tang of a perfume cart. The colors were alive and shifting, a kaleidoscope of every hue in the world moving around and through itself all at once, shifting with some subtle pattern that hypnotized and overwhelmed me all at the same time.

I began to panic. There was simply too much in one place, and I was being washed away in it, and couldn't find myself. I couldn't hear myself think.

A gentle push at my shoulder, and I had something to focus on. I turned, and the Jhe h'... the Poet King was smiling down at me. "A little much at once?"

I nodded, unable to form words.

He kept one hand on my shoulder and continued leading me across the Complex. We reached the center, where a grand fountain stood, as wide around as my village square. The water cascaded down several sculpted levels, figures carved into the white marble, frozen in a story I couldn't puzzle out. The water calmed me, though; the white noise drowning out most of the dull roar of the crowds behind me, a faint breeze blowing from the water's fall. I felt myself relax, my shoulders dropping slightly, my legs no longer feeling like they were knitting together in a messy set of knots. I risked a look up, and the Poet King was looking into the water with a small smile on his face.

"I like to stand here and let it wash my troubles away," he said, and gave me a crooked smile. "Even if it lasts but a moment." He seemed to wait a moment, expecting me to say something, but my mind was a complete blank. His smile widened and he pressed my shoulder once again, guiding me back into the crowd. "Almost there."

Once we passed the fountain, the crowds seemed to thin a bit. Directly in front of us was a tall building, a central tower flanked by two wings that were as wide as the tower was tall. To my left, almost a perfect quarter-circle from the tower, was another building. It was lower and wider, and the semicircle entrance with its rows of columns seemed much more imposing than the tower building, with its elegantly flush entry that was open to all.

Around us, people were... well, at first glance they were going about their business. Some were walking, either by themselves or in small groups. There was one person on the ground, though, arms folded behind their head, sound asleep. The Poet King glanced down at him and chuckled, shaking his head slightly. There was another crouching and studying the courtyard bricks very intently, and yet another glaring very intently at the palm of her hand. The Poet King stopped in front of this one, staring for a moment at her hand as well, then giving the top of her head a puzzled glance.

"Jhe Emily? Could you please enlighten me as to what is so fascinating about your hand?"

The girl jumped and jerked her hand, nearly slapping herself with the motion, then laughed. "Goodness, Jhe h'Logos, you gave me quite a scare." She rubbed the back of her head, squinting with an embarrassed smile. "Well, you see, Jhe Gerald mentioned that Jhe h'Akribastes taught some of the Armed how to set things on fire with their mind, and he tried to teach me the trick to it, but he seemed to be having trouble himself and he just stepped away to go ask the Jhe h'Akribastes how to do it again, and..." She shrugged. "I just figured I'd keep practicing while waiting for him to return."

The Poet King stared at her a moment, his eyes twinkling. "Well," he said, "I would suggest that perhaps Jhe Emily would attempt to set fire to an object in her hand? Had you succeeded, my dear, you would have some difficulty writing for a little while..." He voice trailed off as her face turned bright red.

"Yes, of course. How silly of me," she giggled. "Of course, knowing me, I would have set fire to Jhe Gerald instead." She startled a little, her eyes widening. "Oh no."

The Poet King sighed. "Go check."

She took off at a run without even bowing her departure.

I stared in shock as she retreated, then turned and looked at the Poet King. "Aren't... sir, aren't you going to... Isn't there something..." I waved a hand and gave up.

He laughed. "This would hardly be the first time Jhe Gerald has been lit afire, and it won't be the last. Don't worry about him. Personally," he said, leaning towards me with a conspiring wink, "I don't think Jhe Emily could hit poor Gerald. It's much more likely that she hit--" There was a distant shriek. "Ah. Yes, that would be Jhe Tamryn."

I looked in the direction the noise had come from. "Who is..."

"Her brother." The Poet King grinned. "Siblings are dangerous things to have, aren't they?"

He gave my shoulder a gentle push, even though I had calmed enough that I didn't feel so pressed in by the Complex. "I don't have any siblings, Sire."

"Oh?" He looked down. "Well, that's a shame. Siblings build character."

I shrugged. "I have enough cousins to fill in, I guess. My grandmother assures me I have plenty of character."

"Plenty of character, but none of the sense that Theos gave a brain-daft horse."

"Wha--" I stared up at him, my mouth hanging open. His voice had been a perfect mimicry of hers. "How did... did you know Grandma?"

"Letitcia?" He smiled again, looking at the tower, but he didn't elaborate.

People were turning and looking at me now as we walked up the steps to the entrance. I felt awkward with so many eyes turned to me, but there was nowhere to hide but the Poet King's cloaks, and as kind as he was being, I didn't feel familiar enough to actually go venturing under the regent's robes for shelter. I brushed off the feeling of being watched as best I could, concentrating instead on the intricately carved doors.

They were beautiful, a stunning work of art all on their own. The many woods that made up the inlay were cleverly carved and layered, giving such a wonderful impression of life that I half-expected the leaves on the trees to blow in the breeze, or the horse to turn and whinny. A man in a curiously cut coat, similar to the ones worn by the guards at the gates, opened the door for us and bowed.

The Poet King gracefully returned the bow with a small handgesture, then turned to one side and ushered me past him with a wave. "Welcome to my Hall," he said, pride warming his voice.

As I walked through the doors, I acknowledged that he had every reason to be proud of this structure.

---

I expected most of what I saw there. The grand vaulted passageways, the way the tower was hollow in the middle so that you got the impression that you were staring straight into the heavens when you looked up, the number of people running about in near-identical uniforms, the dull roar of so many people in one place doing... whatever they did.

I did not expect the small ball whizzing past my ear to tag someone else further inside the building on the head.

I certainly didn't expect looking to the left and seeing similarly-uniformed people climbing each other in order to reach one of the high stained-glass windows, then launching themselves into space, only to hover for a moment before crashing down.

Most definitely, I did not expect to look down and see a wee slip of a girl, staring up at me with curiosity and a charming touch of suspicion. She glared up at me through her mess of red curls, then turned to the Poet King.

"J'h'Lete? He looks funny."

I choked back a laugh, and the Poet King reached down and picked her up. "Now now, Stevane," he said, grinning almost nose-to-nose with her, "it's not nice to insult someone before you've properly introduced yourself. After you've made your graces, you may belittle them as you see fit, and as is proper for the situation."

She looked back at him thoughtfully. "What?"

I laughed, and she looked at me, then laughed as well. I held my hand up to her. "I am delighted and honored to meet you. I am Blackirons Erynn, late of Robinstead."

"Blackirons is a funny name." The Poet King bounced her a little, and she giggled. "It is!"

"Your name, dear," the Poet King prompted.

"My name is Stevane," she said, giving him a very puzzled look.

He chuckled. "No, Stevane, tell him your name."

She looked at me, her gold eyes searching mine. "He can't hear me tell you?"

I laughed. "Nice to meet you, Stevane. Tell me, how old are you?"

She wrinkled her nose at me, puffing her cheeks out a little. "A lady never tells her age," she primly announced. The Poet King cleared his throat quietly, and she sighed and held up three fingers. "I didn't say it!"

"Your father will be remarkably proud of your manners," he reassured the girl. She beamed at him, then kicked her feet against his robes.

"Down now, please?"

He lowered her to the ground, and she took off running. After a few steps, she turned and gave me another measuring look, then curtsied. "You can join me for tea," she said, then frowned. "But you hafta wear a uniform, okay?"

"Okay," I said, trying for serious and failing. It was good enough for her, though. She took off running down the hall. "Elric!" she called, then darted around a corner.

I looked up at the Poet King. He looked at me, still grinning. "Isn't she adorable?" I chuckled.

"Yeah, she's... are they all like that?"

The Poet King threw his head back and laughed. "If you mean all children, no. If you mean all of Jhe h'Akribastes's children, then I'd have to say yes."

I bit the inside of my cheek. That was one of Gerude's sisters? I thought about it and laughed. "I can actually see the resemblance, and not just in the hair."

"Just wait until you meet the rest of them," he said with a wide grin, and beckoned me with one hand. "This way."

---

So, tea happened, and with tea came training, and with training came the stunning realization that I had no idea, absolutely no idea about how the world worked until I set foot into that Hall.

Early on, I made a few friends. I've seen some come and some go, but the core group of us that formed my first few years remains: Bronwyn, Cary, Amanda, and me. Gerude is now my bestest buddy that a guy could possibly have without it getting marital (and believe me, I'm not interested in marrying him for many reasons, the most important one involving three very sharp prongs and that eyebrow), and of course when Amanda is around, then Jax is too.

Jax. I... I want to like him, I really do. He's just... so... Jax.

---

Char's Notes: It's painfully obvious (to me, at least) that this wasn't exactly written to be part of the published story. It's a peek into how the worldbuilding gets done, though! Also, looking back, it's amusing to see how little we had done on this world when it was written. Beleth (the capital of Radia) still doesn't have a name, I still hadn't physically mapped out Robinstead or the families there, the actual construction of the Poet Hall was still a big question mark, and... well, little things here and there. The Halls series did do a major chunk of the background building for The Peacock King, though, so I thought it would be fun to share a look into how some of the background writing gets done.

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