She jumps as she receives the message, sloshing her drink.
Some calculations, yes, she can be in Nicodranas by then.
She grabs her things and collects her horse.
It’s a little rough going but she’s leaving and not coming into the Empire, she makes it on time.
She’s anxious to show them her work on their story.
But she never expected to meet a famous
courtesan.
Even less to discover they need her help,
“Just a quick trip to Rexxentrum.”

You had last worn one, back then.
Before you lost yourself.
Hideous doesn’t deserve finery.
Best not to be looked at,
Keep to the shadows.

Was it the acceptance of your husband?
The growing power of your Caleb?
Or just you, making the choice?

Caduceus pours the water into the pot; his staff underneath begins to heat it.
“Pride is the double edge sword.”
He crushes the flowers and lets them fall into the pot.
“It can keep you from hearing the words you need to hear.”
He blows into the cups to clear them and sets them next to the pot.
“It can keep you from seeing things for how they are, or are going to be.”
The water now hot enough, he pours the tea into the cups.
“It can seem like your best asset. Always at your side.”
He looks up at the stars, listening to the insects.
“But it can also be a good thing. It can protect you from those who would use or work against you. From those you want, or need, to make you feel less than what you truly are.”
With a smile, Caduceus hands a cup to Fjord.
“Pride can be the crutch. Or the walking stick. You choose.”

Wirh a groan from Fjord,
Jester and Nott decide the best way to show Zadash to Caduceus is shopping.
First they have to go to the Meal Hearth (even though Jester still complains about the lack of cinnamon)
A wave from Iva as they are leaving begets a quick look at Chasity’s Nook.
Beau nudges them to the Basic Clothing for a few fancy adds to her cloak.
For the last they leave The Invulnerable Vagrant.
Nott’s eyes dart from Caduceus to Pumat and back, sharp for signs of recognition between the two.
Pumat remembers them well (it took quite the while to restock after the last visit).
There’s no talk of the war, just a long breath taken and another memory shared with Caduceus.
For a day, they slip the burden off.

To a monk,
Their body is their weapon.
Years spent learning how it moves.
How each part feels at its best and worst.
Knowing when you’ve gone too far
Or have enough for just one more attack.
It is the weapon always with you.
One that will die with you.
There is no passing down the heirloom.
You must make your difference while you live.

Three taken away.
A fourth stolen forever.

Lost ones found.
And the road continues on.
All are changed but with hope within.

Friends can start out as people you never expect to see again.
Someones you meet in an inn in a no place town.
You talk, drink. Expecting no more.
Then events take the matter out of your hands.
You find you can work with them.
You start to even like them.
Then you start to protect and defend them. And they you.
Then they are more than just friends.

So much of your past resides in it.
Your greatest pain.
What destroyed your blood family
Has also saved your found one.
(And endangered them once, but that was not your fault)
Always at the ready
As near to you as your books.
The horror it would bring is fading.
You use it for good,
Not damnation.
And if ever your family is threatened…
Fireball

Four orbs to show the way.
Providing what the others forget you two need.
Floating in the air,
Spinning around you
Or strung out like stars.
A quiet help.
So often a welcomed sight.
Just a little bit you can do to help out.
For the good of the group.