Chapter 365: Days Without Quests

Three months later...

"What exactly did Greg say these were supposed to be?"

"Rabbits," Pandora replied.

Regis turned the bread over in his hand. Greg had pinched the dough to make the ears. One had folded over the other in the oven, giving the poor creature a rather impressive nose.

"Lea put them in the window yesterday," Pandora told him. "A little boy wanted the pig. Greg spent quite a while trying to find out which one he meant."

Regis looked at the bun again. "I think I found it."

By the time they reached the Midas storeyard, Pandora had finished telling him how the little boy eventually walked out with two rabbits and a sincere apology for the missing pig.

Regis was still laughing when he lifted the latch. He stepped aside to let her through. Three months ago, getting here had meant asking Aurelia for a carriage. Today they had walked all the way from the bakery and his breakfast was still warm.

Killian had spread a cloth across a low crate in the yard. Behind him, the dragon lay in a patch of sunlight, one wing half open over the warm ground. Its head lifted at the sound of the latch.

"Boss, did you get the ones with cheese?"

"Lea said to take the ugly one."

Killian looked into the basket. "...Did she say anything else?"

A cart rattled past outside. The loose end of the gate struck the post twice, and the dragon scrambled backwards, catching the edge of its wing against the wall. Regis caught the gate before it could strike a third time and slipped the latch into place.

It had taken Regis an embarrassingly long time to realise how frightening the three of them must have looked when they hurried over to comfort it. These days he gave it room to come out on its own.

He sat on the empty crate beside Pandora and broke open one of the buns. Melted cheese clung to the inside.

"Here, Killian."

"Oh, so that’s what that smell was." Killian accepted half, then frowned at the little face looking up at him. "Is this a pig?"

Pandora nearly choked on her breakfast.

A little later, something brushed against Regis’s boot. The dragon had crossed the yard and settled its chin on the ground beside him. Up close, he could see the black sheen along its silver scales where its neck curved into the shade. He shifted his heel to give it room and went back to eating.

"By the way, supper’s at the bakery tonight," he said. "Greg wants to know how many of us are coming."

"I am," Killian answered.

"That’s very brave of you. You haven’t seen what he’s making yet."

"Brother, you’ve eaten three."

Regis glanced down at the empty space he had made in the basket. "Well, the bread’s good. He just needs to work on his pigs."

***

Aurelia caught up with them at Gilded Row shortly before noon. She had been to see Vanessa, who said she would come by the bakery after closing. Perto might come with her.

"I’ll let Lea know. What about you?" Regis asked.

"I told her yes this morning. She’s already put me in charge of keeping Killian away from the kitchen."

"That happened once," Killian muttered.

In the three months since their return, the remaining members had yet to gather as the Sanguine Order. Sometimes Regis went days without seeing Morgana, only to run into her and Rumi while buying something for supper. Other mornings, Vanessa came by the house and stayed until lunch. When Perto said he might feel like coming another day, Regis had learned to leave the invitation open.

The Guild continued to turn away quests for them. Seven months remained before Regis turned sixteen. For today, his plans amounted to supper with his friends and a visit he had agreed to make beforehand.

"Remington asked if I could stop by," he told Aurelia.

"Is everything alright?"

"I don’t know. He said there was something he wanted me to read."

***

In the branch leader’s office, Remington had cleared enough space on his desk to lay several sheets of paper beside one another. At the top of the first, Regis recognised a heading he had once read with his companions gathered around a table.

Request for Reinforcement.

"From Edenelia?" he asked.

"A copy of what Ligera forwarded to me." Remington drew a chair up to the desk for him. "I knew when that came in that Ligera was short of people. I’ve been trying to find out where the rest of the requests went. Have a look at when these were sent."

Regis sat down. The next sheet bore the seal of another Guild branch. Halfway down the page he found an appeal for healers, followed by a second entry in a different hand. The healers they had hoped to call on had already been sent elsewhere.

He went on to the next report. A dwarven settlement had asked a neighbouring one to take in its wounded. By the time the answer came back, that settlement had wounded of its own.

Regis brought the two sheets closer together. "These dates... We were still in Edenelia."

"Aye. Human lands, dwarven settlements, beastkin territory. Branches in all three reported attacks by demonic cults around the time the elves came under attack." Remington rested a thick finger on the dates. "Some of this reached us while you were away. It took considerably longer to establish which reports described separate attacks. One appeal went through three branches before anybody could spare the people to answer it."

Regis looked back at the request he recognised. He remembered the wagons in Paradis and how relieved Vanessa had been when there were finally enough people to tend to the wounded. All that time, somewhere else, someone had been standing in front of a patient, waiting for a healer who had been sent to another town.

"Why did you want me to see this?"

"Because I wrote to you." Remington sat back, his eyes still on the appeal from Edenelia. "I remember sitting at this desk deciding whether to send a letter to the Sanguine Order. In the end, I put your name down. You ought to know what I’ve learned since."

Regis nodded slowly. Near Remington’s elbow was a page the dwarf had kept apart from the rest. It carried the seal of the Temple of Light.

"And that one?"

Remington passed it over. "We also have confirmation that Demon Lords took part in the attacks. The Temple has identified two of them."

Asuom, the Demon Lord of Gluttony. Irato, the Demon Lord of Wrath.

The report listed where each had been seen in battle. Further down, a reference to the late Executor of Benevolence made Regis go back and read both names again.

"These are the two Sir Mehar wounded?"

"They are. The Temple has confirmed that both have recovered."

Regis’s thumb brushed against his storage ring. He could still picture Anna in the courtyard, her fingers resting on what remained of Tinateria. Mehar had carried that sword into his last fight. It had cost him his life to leave those wounds on the two Demon Lords who survived him.

"How long did the Temple expect them to be out of the fighting?"

"At least a hundred years. That was the Pope’s own estimate."

Regis raised his head. "A hundred years?"

"At least," Remington repeated.

Regis turned the sheet back towards the light and checked the dates against the Guild reports again.

"They’re certain it was those two?"

"The Temple confirmed their identities after receiving accounts from the people who fought them. I waited for that confirmation before calling you here."

Regis ran his eyes down the last few lines. There was nothing after the account of Irato’s appearance except a signature and a date.

"Then how the hell did they recover?"

"I’d like to know that myself," Remington said quietly.

Regis remained in the chair a while longer, reading the page again. Eventually, it was the appeal from the dwarven settlement that he reached for.

"Did anyone manage to take in their wounded?"

"Some went to the next town over. We’re still trying to trace the rest." Remington took the sheet when Regis handed it back. "If I learn anything about the people who made it out of Edenelia, would you like me to send word?"

"Yes, please."