Bird of a Nest - Chapter 43: Chapter 43

I'm from Klosa," Zaro offered as if that answered the question, touching where Sol'dan had tucked his hair with a flushed face and a slight smile.  The guards blinked, and one of the younger ones did a double-take at Zaro. This new information changed something, Fetmar wasn't sure what though. "Are we heading to your room or the clinic?" Zaro asked, the floaty look in his eyes not fading.
"The clinic," Fetmar frowned, looking at the guards but they weren't offering anything. Gently he pushed Zaro forward towards the clinic. He needed to talk to someone about this. Zaro was in danger of getting his heart broke again at this rate. That wasn't a lusty look; it was a vulnerable one. "Why is Klosa important?"
"It wasn't in the grand scheme of things. Mostly a farming city, but we had some alchemist experiments occurring," Zaro's face shifted as he tried to remember more. "The plans for the flying boots Wiljam and Oira made for you were from a chip Tiew snuck out when we evacuated."
"Still doesn't answer my question about why you being from Klosa means you can speak k'nairi."
"Oh, because it was on k'nairi lands, technically," Zaro admitted. "It was one of the northern cities next to the Trenside mountain range.  I don't remember the full details of how it came to be, but it was considered an independent city-state. One of the conditions of its continued existence was that schools and government business were conducted in k'nairi. We had a fair share of halflings in the city. Tiew kept my lessons up after he joined the Namya, so my k'nairi is passable."
"I didn't know that there had been independents on k'nairi lands," Had been, Fetmar knew Zaro's story. Zaro's nightmares of hiding from soldiers and being buried under rumble came from somewhere. Like so many people in the north and midlands, Zaro was one of the few survivors of his home. Klosa was no more.
"Klosa was pretty unique. I'm not sure there were many more if any. The k'nairi don't like humans claiming their lands. Klosa got away with a lot because we never tried to remove the k'nairi parts of our culture. It was a mix of the humans from the Trenside mountains and the k'nairi who sheltered in our city when the weather was harsh," Zaro's smile turned from the shy heartful one to one that was almost sad as he remembered his childhood. "Most border towns were expected to spilt up once their numbers got too high. We were different."
"I see." Fetmar's little farming village had been as typical as one would expect. Nothing remarkable had ever happened there, and the people had laughed off talks of the war as fairy tales. His father had been so sure nothing would come of it. It was more important to get the crops sowed on time than listen to fanciful stories. Fetmar wasn't even sure his father had died understanding a rebellion was happening.
Klosa was bound to have ruins. Or even possibly refugees were working to restore it. Any city with alchemy in it would have left some kind of mark on the landscape. After eight years, the fields would be overgrown, and the paths lost. Maybe some areas would be savable, but Eastern Green was gone. The houses had been build mostly from wood and hay. They had all been burned to the ground when the soldiers had come. That area wasn't safe to live in anymore. Any survivors had headed to the plains. If slavers hadn't kidnapped Eyeri, that's where they would have gone too.
"Come on," Zaro jostled Fetmar out of his thought as they just stood in the middle of the corridor. "We should find the boys."
As they entered, one of the attendants pointed them over to the office. A loud string of curses from Aw'endo exploded from behind the door. Fetmar looked at Zaro uncertainly. Did they want to get involved in whatever was making Aw'endo screech like that? Zaro shrugged and gestured for him to go first. Fetmar grimaced but slowly opened the door, ready to duck back if anything came flying towards him.
Inside was calm, mostly. Aw'endo glared at Mos'it while Mos'it laughed wholehearted and leaned on Ryraso in the process. Ryraso looked somewhat bemused by the whole thing. Meanwhile, Eyeri was just looking at the cards in his hands, confused. The four of them were sitting at a low table, surrounded by cushions with several pushed around Ryraso to help support his back.
"You're a bastard," Aw'endo growled.
"Tough luck," Mos'it beamed. "Pick them up," he ordered, gesturing to the rather stack of cards on the desk.
"And one more curse word, I get the soap," Ryraso warned as Aw'endo reluctantly picked up the desk, eyes promising retribution on Mos'it. "That language is not acceptable for you."  Ryraso placed a new card down, and Aw'endo simmered down, wings bristling annoyed. Fetmar tried not to grin at the sight. This kind of annoyance was much better than some of the other emotions that had been bleeding from Aw'endo recently.
"That one means I need to put a card lower than seven, right?" Eyeri asked, his voice uncertain.
"Yes," Mos'it nodded before looking over to them. "Hey! Just in time. I think they are going to serve lunch soon," he waved at Fetmar and Zaro. Zaro smiled and moved towards him, kneeling next to the librarian and making himself comfortable. Fetmar nodded at Mos'it and moved to his brothers, ruffling Aw'endo's hair as he passed. Aw'endo complained but was too busy sorting his new giant hand of cards to worry too much. Fetmar knew Mos'it, a little. The man had approached him to help him learn k'nairi a few days after he started teaching the younglings. "Did you enjoy your morning?" he asked, flipping his final card onto the table and cheering as Aw'endo grumbled again.
"Well enough," Fetmar offered as Zaro grew red again.  He lounged in the pillows, using Eyeri as a backrest and snuggled into his brother's side. Healer Pol'ar was in the room with them. He was dozing at his desk, a large book sitting open in front of him as his head rested against his chest. "Some of the brats asked after you," he noted, nudging Aw'endo with his knee. "They were worried."
Aw'endo's wings stiffened slightly, but he only raised his shoulders slightly before slapping down three cards to clear the deck. "Good for them," he muttered.
Zaro caught Fetmar's eye. This was not the time to discuss that it seemed. "I met Sol'don's mate," Zaro offered. "Didn't go nearly as badly as the grapevine was hoping."
"Because I pushed you passed them before they could drag you off to enjoy. Something you would have gone with very willingly if the look on your face was anything to go by," Fetmar snorted, stealing a card from Eyeri's hand and throwing it down for him.
"Fetmar! Piss off. I'm learning how to play," Eyeri complained, nudging Fetmar in the ribs with his elbow. Fetmar pulled his brother into a headlock, trapping him under his arm and rubbing his knuckles of Eyeri's head lightly. Eyeri gagged, his cards fell everywhere as he struggled uselessly against his stronger brother. "Let go! You stink!"
"I'll take a shower after lunch." Fetmar chuckled, not letting go of Eyeri. Eyeri groaned.
"His mate is handsome, then?" Mos'it purred, a particular click in his voice than had the adults in the room shifting. Zaro scooted away from Mos'it, but laughing talons and wings drew him back. That click was distinct in its meaning. "Come on, spill."
"It's not like that," Zaro waved away. "Ok," he shifted as he received a few lifted eyebrows. "It's like that, but it's just fun. Nothing more than a hookup to release some steam. It's nothing serious."
"Remind me, Mos'it. Is it normal for a k'nairi to bring a hookup to a reunion between bonded?" Ryraso asked, putting his final card down. Aw'endo grumbled and slumped in defeat. The teenager moved over to his brothers and dragged himself over Fetmar. Fetmar hooked an arm around his waist relaxed, enjoying the lovely shade of red Zaro was turning as Mos'it shook his head.
"Not really. Certainly kinky," Mos'it shrugged. "But then, you two have been sleeping together more often than a normal hook up entails,"
"Since when?"
"Since you're in Navat. Here, a hook up is maybe once every week or so. Not every other day, if not every day," Mos'it challenged and Zaro's eyes widened slightly, embarrassment over his features before he pushed Mos'it off him. Or tried, Mos'it just laughed and held on closer. "Don't worry pretty one, people are enjoying the gossip," he purred in k'nairi, the way in used to ones 'pretty one' was vulgar and promising. Zaro's hips twitched in a half aborted movement. Mos'it chuckled. "You'll be very popular once whatever this is, is over," he switched back to human.
"Not sure that's a good thing," Ryraso shook his head, gathering up the cards and putting them back into the pack. His face twisted in pain as he reached further than his torso was happy with him doing so.
"Maybe someone shouldn't have been so amorous in places he could be caught," Mos'it poked Zaro's ribs. Zaro bit his lip and curled up slightly. "So very popular."
"Did Sol'don and his mate give any indications of what they have planned for you?" Ryraso checked.
"Not really, Fetmar was too busy being paranoid."
"Not past dragging him away for a proper introduction," Fetmar chuckled, combing a hand through Eyeri's hair and beginning to braid it.  Eyeri stayed where he had half wriggled on to Fetmar's lap in his struggles and closed his eyes, content to relax.
"Fetmar," Aw'endo complained but didn't move from his shoulders.
"Poor baby," Fetmar taunted, flicking his nose. "And I'm not paranoid," he challenged. "Anyone following us who is not a guard is suspicious. We are Namya, the only people we know here outside of the Royal circle, and the guards, are people we may have fought. I'd rather not end up fighting someone with a grudge when there are a thousand and one things going on."
"I was a sniper. The amount of actual hand to hand combat I had was limited," Zaro snorted. Tiew had down his best to keep him from battles. Be it with a gun or with a bow and arrow, Zaro was an excellent shot. "Also we know the Sparrows. They have been divided amongst the nobles to be watched. They could be trying to send us a message. You said yourself; the person was wearing a uniform. People don't typically stalk others wearing a uniform. It makes them stand out."
"Not sure I agree with that statement," Mos'it hummed,  "Messengers would be unlikely to stalk someone. They usually just come up and give the message. Even if the request is to be subtle, I doubt the Sparrows have been able to make enough contacts to afford such a service. What did the uniform look like?"
"Mostly like what the servants in the palace wear except it had more armour. A chest plate," Fetmar patted his chest and dragged his hand up to his left shoulder where the man's armour had been buckle. "It was a dark green. They had a patch on the right arm, but I didn't get a close look at it."
"Sounds like the alchemist guild," Mos'it frowned. "What would they be doing stalking you two?"
"Zaro has an implant. Fetmar broke into the city using flying boots. They may want more information," Ryraso offered, eyes observing Aw'endo.
"You have an implant?" Pol'ar asked, making several people jump as the elderly k'nairi made it know he was awake again. "We'll have to remove it at some point. They don't work well here with the natural magic around here. We've had one or two have adverse effects from prolonged exposure."
"Sure," Zaro shrugged. "It doesn't work, so I don't mind."