Chương 48: Leaving Squirt

An hour or so later, the party was saddled and ready. Lord Prince Ranin—more technically, Lord Prince Commander—had brought forty of his own knights and guards, plus about a dozen more that were a variety of specialties, from magi to covert operatives, and a dozen attendants. On top of that, he was taking five from Everwinter with him including Squirt, Anvanil, and, suspiciously, Zakam. Then once they reached the forest itself, Qzi and Zhadin would be joining them, rounding out the group.

Meaning it was a rather large party. And really, really annoyingly, Lord Prince Ranin kept her up with himself and Lady Cirn towards the front of the group. Behind them, yes, but right behind them. Anvanil sat on one side, fidgeting with his saddle lacings, while Zakam dwarfed them both on his massive war horse on Squirt's other side. Everything about Squirt stood out. Being the only rider on an elk was one. Being a greenling was another that, luckily enough, could be covered by her hood.

And those combined with the fact that she was noticeably in the safest part of the group with the important fey really stood out. Too late now. They were already marching straight into town. She tugged her hood lower, keeping her head down as she focused on familiarizing herself with the saddle. It was shockingly comfortable even with the leather bars in place, having more padding than she'd normally expect.

Mole danced under her, clearly eager for the journey ahead, but the dancing was controlled enough to remain in his place in line without her having to fight him on it. Squirt tapped his neck with one hand and absently murmured, "Good boy," while running her other over the various straps, shifting her holds to memorize the motions involved. Wordlessly, Zakam steered his horse to Squirt's other side and gestured to Anvanil with a jerk of his head. The shy bookworm directed his horse to Zakam's old position.

Lord Prince Ranin turned over his shoulder to glance at the rearrangement, nodded once, then focused back forward as they started passing by the homes. It took Squirt longer than she cared to admit before she realized why, when she noticed that the massive man had shifted towards the sun to cast her in shadow. She scowled, embarrassed that it had taken her at least four blocks to figure that out, grateful that it happened, and mortified that it did.

Instead, she just focused on memorizing the saddle and keeping her head down. The hand that had been petting Mole pulled back to stroke the egg through its sash, quelling some of her nerves. As soon as they were in the forest, Lord Prince Ranin smirked back at her. Then abruptly turned his horse as the rest of the company kept marching forward to force himself between her and Anvanil.

"You know the path?" She nodded. Lord Everwinter had explained it to her yesterday.

"Good. You are free to move about as you please so long as you keep the other two hunters, Zakam, or the Lady Cirn with you while traveling with my company. I expect you to check in every morning in my tent before we break camp, but I'd prefer you check in at night after dinner as well. Understood?"

"Yes, Lord Prince Commander," she responded with expected subservience.

"Very well." A pause.

"… I suppose I'll have to come up with something as clever as Athereon." She scowled at the back of Mole's neck, unable to answer.

"How about Pakos?" Squirt scanned the area and avoided showing him the faint blush on her cheeks. Pakos was one of the Hunt's moon hounds if she remembered right. It didn't have the same cultural depth as Athereon but was still meaningful in its own way.

"As you wish, my lord prince." Anvanil's quiet voice came from his other side.

"That's one of the Goddess of the Hunt's hunting dogs, right?"

"That's correct." A pause.

"You're giving her a different name?"

"Trying to, yes. Unfortunately, the name Athereon has become rather well-known. The fewer who identify her as such, the fewer problems we will have." It was at that moment that Squirt realized two things. The first being that the intimidating man had relaxed to his more secretive, boyish personality while outside of the view of the village. The second being that he trusted every fey here with his life, and by extension, hers.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. A sinking fear in her gut took root at the gamble he was making. Anvanil's voice came softly, "Mystva." The lord turned in his seat to face the shy fey, who continued, "It's her loyal shadow, the shadow of the moon. Always following the Hunt's lead."

Without turning his head, Ranin noted that the huntress had turned her attention to the young male, even if she couldn't see him. With that in mind, he asked, "Her shadow? I don't know that myth." Anvanil blushed slightly as he fidgeted with the saddle lacings.

"It's… Death's gift. He loved the Hunt so completely, he hated being parted from her side. Thus, he created a being who lived always in her shadow, one step behind her and acting as her shield to hide her from prying eyes. She trusted it to always watch her back as she hunted in the Wylds and felled the Great Forest Kings. There was even one story where Mystva called upon the feybeasts to take back the Hunt when she'd been abducted by her brother the Sun." It was official.

The pixie was hooked, her attention rapt as she tried to stare a hole through Ranin to see Anvanil as he spoke. Ranin fought the smirk valiantly as he said, "Tell me more. I confess I know little of the old stories of the Hunt." Tobias groaned as he flopped down beside Telos in the grass.

"Whelp. That's it. She's gone now, and there ain't a damn thing to do about it now." Telos made a study of her hands in her lap.

"… oh?"

"Yep." A minute passed in silence between them in this quiet corner of the keep. A small block that might one day have a house was instead covered in verdant green grass and lined with native foliage. Tucked back against the wall, it didn't have much sunlight granted to it, but for a few hours a day it became a perfect spot for Telos to read in the sun. The locals had yet to challenge her claim, as before she arrived, it was a spot of bare dirt used for whippings. A practice Bartos had thankfully ended.

Finally, Telos said quietly, "I'm surprised you let her go." Tobias leaned all the way back on the grass with another groan, covering his face with his forearms.

"Yeah, well… I'm more surprised Bartos let her go, if I'm being honest." Telos frowned, twisting in her seat to look down at her long-time friend.

"Bartos?" To her surprise, a melancholic gloom washed over Tobias as he slid his gaze off to the side to study a hummingbird visiting the flowers.

"Yeah… I don't think I ever told you, huh?"

"Told me what?" she asked mildly, trying not to let on the sudden tension coiling in her gut. Tobias sighs forlornly.

"… I think he's finally caught feels. For her."

"… for… the huntress?"

"Yep."

"… how do you know?" Telos asked quietly. Tobias sighed as he sat up.

"When she ran. I stumbled on him losing his shit over it. Ice was crawling up the door and his wolf was close to going mad with aggression. I… had to talk him down, and… I mean, I've known him since he was just a kid, and I've never seen him lose control." Telos said wryly, "Yes, since he was a kid, and not you."

"Hey, I got to be an adult years before he did."

"Five years, yes, I know, so incredible —" He chuckled.

"Shut up…" he fell quiet, his smile dimming somewhat.

"… he's falling for her. He just doesn't know it yet." More silence as Telos absorbed everything and Tobias watched two hummingbirds dueling for the territory of this tiny oasis. Finally, he said, "I wish it was someone I could hate. Instead, I get it."

"Yep."

"… it hurts. More than I thought it would." Telos nodded.

"… it does." He snorted.

"You say that like you know what it's like."

"I do."

"… you do?" She sighed. And when she did, it was heavy with the weight of years.

"… I do."

"… wait, is this a current thing or a past thing?" As far as he was aware, she had practically been celibate since they met. The most interest she had ever shown in anyone was in passing dalliances that she made clear she had no interest in outside of the week or so they would last. She fell quiet again, her gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, though she didn't really see them.

"Yeah. About that. Remember when I asked you to meet me at the festival? For the start of summer." Tobias frowned, sitting up and leaning back on his hands to study his friend's back.

"Yeah?"

"… I was going to tell you then, but… things got hectic."

"Tell me what?"

"That I'm in love with you." He froze. By his expression, he was completely blindsided by this declaration. The smile she tossed his way was fragile and accepting in a way that twisted Tobias's gut a little.

"It's okay. I already know. All this time, and yet, I've never been accepted as pack." The realization that his wolf must have subconsciously rejected her punched him in his gut. What? Why? When? Was… something wrong with him? That he never even noticed? That he never even thought of her—"But… she has," she pointed out with that same heartbreaking acceptance in her voice, and Tobias's world fell to pieces just as she began to glue the first ones back together in hers.

"And honestly? Yeah. I get it. She… she needs that protection. I don't," she ended in a whisper.

"… though I don't know how much good that does her now." Guilt hit him. Couldn't… couldn't they try? Couldn't he try? Even as the thought rose, every fiber in his being couldn't seem to imagine her romantically. She stretched in her seat, looking lighter than she had minutes prior.

"Well, that's it. I finally said it. And I also get it with Bartos. I do. I just… I think she killed the last of my hope, and I don't want to keep waiting around and hoping, so… yeah. We're still friends. Nothing's changing. Not for you, anyway. But regardless, yes, I get it. I really, really do." Nothing's changing? Nothing's changing? Tobias's entire world was imploding. What did this mean? What did he do?

She stood, scooping up her book and storing it in one of the pouches she had magicked onto this particular dress.

"Well. I think I'm going to go grab myself some lunch from the dining hall." He should stop her. Say something. Chase after her and tell her… tell her… … tell her what? That he didn't love her that way, but he still loved her? … did he love her? Before he could gather his pieces enough to even understand the structure of his thoughts, she left.