splitting paths

	Linus rose in the morning and looked out the window.  There they were, the Farview lads, making their way back out of town... with the Lady Vleria de Kestral in tow.  Interesting.  He pulled on a tunic and pantaloons and wandered downstairs.

	The innkeeper's new assistant, an eager young lass named Chrysanthemum (or Chrissy, as she insisted), beamed as he walked up to her.  "Oh, good morning, Paladin Vorth," she said brightly.  "How was your rest?"

	"Peaceful, and therefore welcome," Linus chuckled.  "How are things in town?  I see the Farview team leaving."

	"Oh, yes, sir, they're off to explore some building or something with the Lady Vleria," Chrissy said.

	Linus tilted his head.  "Does she often accompany them?"

	"Never that I've seen," Chrissy said.

	"Hmm."  Linus yawned behind his hand.  "Well.  I should get some training in."

	"Oh, but I'm afraid the guards are resting after their trip to fight those nasty Spider people," Chrissy said.

	Linus blinked.  "What, all of them?"

	The innkeeper's aide shuffled her feet on the wood floors bashfully.  "Well, er... no, a few may be up and about," she admitted.  She quickly scooted behind the counter as she belatedly remembered her job.  "Oh, do you wish to check out, sir?"

	"No, no, I'll be back tonight," Linus said.  "Thanks.  I'm just going to pop over to the Near Green and check on things there."

	"The... is that the Feywild market?" Chrissy asked.

	"Yes."  Linus sat down by the counter and poured himself some water from the pitcher there as he thought about the day's schedule.  "Were you here when the flock came to visit?"

	"I wasn't, sir, but a few Eladrin and Satyrs came by for a drink a few nights ago," Chrissy remembered.  "They were... a bit scary."

	Linus shrugged.  "They can be, yes," he admitted.

	"They were in a foul mood, though," Chrissy continued.  "They said their Countess was still missing."

	Linus' head whipped around.  "STILL missing?  How do you mean?  She went back with them to the Feywild."

	Chrissy shrank back.  "Uh... I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know anything else."

	The young Paladin slumped back on his stool.  "Hmph.  Fine.  I'll bring it up when I get there."  He looked around the inn, noting all the new woodwork.  "So, this place looks filled out."

	"Yes, sir.  The new crafting stations in the Conyberry Crafthall are wonderful," Chrissy said, happy to be moving on to a nicer topic.

	"Indeed."

	"Do you have a home in Neverwinter, sir?" Chrissy asked.  "If you don't mind me asking."

	"No, I just sort of wander the route between here and the city, really," Linus said.  "My home is in Rassalantar."

	"It must get very boring, flying about again and again," Chrissy observed.  She returned to sweeping as she spoke.

	Linus snorted and glanced out the window at the forest beyond.  "You'd be surprised."


	Xuriis stared up at the treetops and tried to muster what was left of his patience.  "No, your Grace, the measures you have enacted will be more than enough," he said soothingly.  "I promise you this."  The lovely outdoor meeting yard on the roof of the grand Ducal castle of Severus was designed to be comforting and welcoming to those who lived nearby and met there, though the subject of his Countess' disappearance rather mooted that.

	Duke Severus gestured grandly at the young satyr.  "Hmph!  I do sincerely hope so.  This venture of ours, this Near Green, has been nothing but trouble," he said sternly.  "Now the Countess is simply gone!"

	"We know, and we do dearly wish her return," Xuriis said.  With the loss of Capricorn, Castinuve had become the only living member of the Court to have escaped the Prime besides himself.  Xuriis found himself thrust into Eladrin politics with no training at all.  How Gillint had handled this, he did not know.

	"In the interim, I think the Countess Dympna will be able to fill her older sister's shoes capably enough," Severus said.  "But the Knight Castinuve and you, Dance Lord, shall have to oversee your court while my troops search for the Countess Capricorn."

	Xuriis stilled his roiling stomach as best he could.  "Yes, of course."

	Severus fixed him with a gimlet eye.  "You are troubled, lad," he said slowly, "by more than your newfound responsibilities."  The canny old Eladrin had a reputation for outmaneuvering those who came to ask him for favor.  Xuriis knew better than to try to lie.

	"...Yes, your Grace," he admitted.

	Severus peered at him.  "Explain."

	"I... my predecessor, my grandfather Gillint," Xuriis began carefully, "may have had ambitions rather above his... station," he said.  "A Prime adventurer suggested... and I cannot disprove it... that he may have employed magic beyond that which is permitted by the Contract of Fealty to the Court."

	Severus slowly sat back in his seat.  "And do you have any evidence of this?" he asked in a studiously neutral voice.

	Xuriis paused.  The slow wind of the afternoon blew past his ruffled hair and across the steepled roof of the castle's main tower.  "I do not, no," he admitted.  "Save some first-hand accounts which I... cannot corroborate."  He sighed and settled back into his chair, built specifically to accommodate his hircine anatomy.

	Severus thought for a silent moment.  "Tell me, then, lad.  How much formal instruction in your role do you actually have?" he asked.

	"Very little.  None, really, your Grace," Xuriis said ruefully.  "My grandfather essentially abdicated and walked off into the woods."

	Severus sighed heavily.  "Have you... I must know, Dance Lord.  Have you, in fact, read your Contract of Fealty?  Your binding Sacrosanctus Foedus?"

	Xuriis felt his stomach clench.  "Er... long ago," he said feebly.

	Severus looked at him with flat disapproval written on his tattooed old face.  "Satyrs," he grumbled.  “Then know, young Dance Lord, that your obligations pass beyond sleeping and waking, pass beyond thought.  Your obedience is your own remit, however.  So long as you want to obey the Contract, it is easier to do so.  If you wish to disobey the Contract, it is easier to do so.  The Contract is a means of lessening your indecisiveness, you see, and if your grandfather wished to disobey his Countess, it would have been the work of a moment.”

	Xuriis frowned.  “So… it doesn’t actually compel us to do anything?”

	“No, child, of course not.  A Dance Lord is not held to the blade of Law, like the Queens of the Courts,” the Duke said.  Irritation stained his voice as the extent of Xuriis’ unpreparedness came clear.  “I think perhaps you should spend a bit more time in the ducal court, young Lord, and come to a better understanding of your responsibilities.”

	Xuriis nodded glumly.  He hated studying, but apparently, that was his future.


	Peace reigned in Conyberry.  Two months of quiet slowly passed, as the Near Green foundered.  Few customers made their way out to the marketplace at the Rupture, and some of Tumnal’s troops recalled to their Feywild home.  Linus’ patrols continued, bringing news to the little village.  The remainder of the Grey Spider’s forces had melted away, the Farview team reported, and the flock had returned to their home.

	The return of the Flock to the Oldest Glade had been a time of tearful reunions, as the nursemaids and children of the stranded flock rejoined their families.  Flock Mother had resigned on the spot, and her replacement had led the flock away from the Rupture, close to home.  Dryads, pixies, and sprites followed, all expatriates from the Feywild, and life slowly returned to normal.


	One evening, sixty days after returning to the Feywild, Viri looked up at the sound of rustling leaves.  Abandoning her snack, she wandered over to the edge of the clearing, cautious of the strange beasts of the Feywild.  Her caution melted into surprise and delight when she recognized their visitor.  “Xuriis!”

	The young Dance Lord smiled and opened his arms, and Viri tackle-hugged him.  “Oh, Dance Lord, you look so good!” she said happily.

	Xuriis fluttered the flap of his smart new vest.  “Ah, you’re too kind.  How have you been?”

	“It’s so good, Xuriis, things are better now,” Viri said.  She eagerly led the former flock member over to the others, who welcomed him similarly.  “How are things in the court?”

	“Oh, fine, fine, I suppose,” Xuriis said.  “But the Duke and his wife, and most of Dympna’s Court, they’re off at the WIlderking’s gathering, so I thought I would come see my friends.”

	He sat at the edge of the group and enjoyed the flock’s greetings for a moment.  This was certainly more enjoyable than the pomp and pageantry of the Court, though they had taken to him well enough, and he had at least gotten to throw a few high-budget revels in Countess Dympna’s Court.


	A few hours of companionable storytelling passed before Viri asked the obvious question.  “Have you heard from your grandfather?”

	Xuriis looked down.  “No.  I do not think I ever will.”

	“I’m sorry.”

	Xuriis sighed.  “He made his choice.”  He looked around and winced at the headcount – there were only five satyrs in a flock of almost two hundred fauns.  “Are you safe?  This doesn’t look like enough of my kin to protect you.”

	“Knight Commander Tumnal’s forces come through once in a while,” Viri said.  “Things are okay.”

	Xuriis shrugged.  “If you say so.”  He rose.  “So, have any Primes come through?”

	“A few diplomats,” Viri said.  “Nobody we know.”

	“Alright.”  He patted her knee and rose.  “Well.  I wanted to check in on you, while I had the time.”

	Viri rose and nuzzled him.  It was a submission nuzzle, which felt distinctly odd to the young satyr – perhaps he still wasn’t as used to his rank as he thought.  “Could we convince the new Dance Lord to lead us in a revel?” she asked mischievously.

	Xuriis chuckled.  “Oh, well…”

	“How many chances does our Lord get to enjoy the perks of his rank in the boring old Court?”

	“Fine, you convinced me,” Xuriis said at once, as if that hadn’t been half the reason he had come.