Vanded Blazegrip laughed easily as he strode across the room, completely unbothered by the silence that followed his words.

  Serel edged closer to Vera, small hand tightening around hers as the mountain of a man came to a stop in front of them. His gaze swept over the girl with a broad grin that showed far too much warmth for his weathered face.

  “Hah! Spitting image of you, isn’t she? Hair’s the wrong color—but dyed, yeah? I can see the Resonance. And those eyes—” He paused, brow furrowing briefly as he studied Serel’s face. The moment passed, replaced by another grin that seemed too kind for a man built like a siege engine. “Hello there, little one. You can call me Uncle Vanded.”

  Serel said nothing.

  Vanded blinked, then chuckled and turned his attention to Vera. “They can be squinters at that age, can’t they? I know how it is.” He met her gaze, and a hint of confusion flickered behind his grin. “Hmm? Something wrong, Mournvale?”

  “Boss, maybe you oughta step back a bit,” one of the men at the table said, eyeing Vera carefully.

  Vera kept watching Vanded for some time before exhaling through her nose and reining in the Resonance that had almost started bleeding off her. Maybe throwing him out of a currently nonexistent window was a bit much. Hollowstone Table had seen enough chaos already.

  Though she’d keep it in mind.

  “You are aware,” she said, tugging down her hood so her hair spilled free, and with a flicker of Resonance, the raven-black dissolved back into its natural silver-gray, “that people use disguises because they don’t want to be recognized, right? Screaming my name to the entire room just so happens to defeat that purpose.”

  Even with her Resonance receding, the tension among the people at the table didn’t fade.

  Vanded’s grin dimmed slightly as he looked between her, the onlookers, and finally Serel. Then he rubbed his beard, shoulders rising in an awkward shrug. “Huh. Rot me sideways and back if I didn’t think of that. Figured you’d be done with the cloak-and-shadow game after up and killing a Silent Lord.”

  Vera’s eyes narrowed.

  But his grin returned, wider than before, splitting his face nearly from ear to ear. “Still, what’s the point of sneakin’ about when you’ve got a name like yours? You should be struttin’ it with pride! Can’t properly welcome you to my Chapter without a bit of ceremony, eh?”

  The way he said it, Vera understood exactly why all of Gard’s descriptions of the man painted him as a challenge to deal with.

  Vanded considered her for a moment longer, then clapped his huge hands together in a thunderous smack that echoed through the room, making Serel jump beside her.

  “Right!” he said. “A mistake’s a mistake, doesn’t matter much the reason. Listen up, folk.” He turned to the table, voice filling every corner. “None of you saw or heard about any Ashborn Ascendants droppin’ by the Table this morning, got it?”

  “Aye, Blazegrip.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  “Didn’t see a thing.”

  A low chorus rolled through the room as every head turned away in almost perfect unison, ostensibly returning to their own affairs.

  Vanded nodded, satisfied, and looked back to Vera and Serel. “There, that’s sorted. Now come along with Uncle Vanded. The little one’s got somethin’ waiting for her in my office.”

  He began crossing the room again, leaving them standing at the entrance.

  Serel looked up. “Mommy… is he your friend?”

  Vera glanced from the girl to the man’s back and sighed. “Technically, yes. But if you find him annoying or scary, just say the word and I’ll knock him down a few pegs.”

  A few of the Chapter members pretending not to listen twitched. Vanded didn’t react at all.

  “…He’s not scary,” Serel whispered after a pause, biting her lip. “But he’s really loud.”

  Something in Vanded’s gait hitched—just barely.

  Vera chuckled. “Good to know.”

  Still holding Serel’s hand, she followed him to the far end of the chamber. He waited for them there before leading the way into the adjoining hall. Once they’d left the others behind, he noticeably slowed his pace so Serel could keep up.

  “So, little lady,” he said in a softer tone, glancing down at her, “got a name you’d care to share with me?”

  Serel hesitated, studying him while glancing up at Vera. When Vera didn’t intervene, she finally spoke in a small voice. “My name is Serel…”

  “Serel?” Vanded repeated, rolling the sound of it like he was testing the weight. “Fine name. Strong, clean, and memorable. Sounds like someone meant for great things.”

  “R-Really?”

  He thumped a fist to his chest. “I’m no liar. You can trust me. Ask your mother.”

  Serel looked at Vera.

  Vera met her look, briefly eyeing Vanded before nodding. “I’d be careful about trusting him,” she said, “but as far as I know, he’s never lied to me.”

  In all of the game questlines he’d been involved in, Vanded had always been blunt, loud, and very honest. She did actually feel that he was a pretty trustworthy person in general, though that opinion had lessened somewhat after what just happened.

  Vanded simply laughed at her comment, shoulders shaking as he led them farther down the hall. Soon they reached a door a head taller and twice as wide as most. He pushed it open easily, the oversized frame letting his massive form through without effort.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Vera and Serel followed him into what she supposed was his office, where they stopped short.

  There were shelves. Row after row of them to the point where it could even get hard to move. Books and texts packed tight from floor to ceiling, a few glass cases even filled with tablets etched in faintly glowing script. It looked like the backroom of some museum, and not the office of the Chapter-Master of the Hollowstone Table.

  “Wow…” Serel’s voice came out in an awed whisper as she turned slowly, eyes wide.

  Vera found herself staring, caught off guard. She had maybe expected something like a trophy room, with the heads and bones of powerful beasts and the like. To find it completely filled to the brim with books, of all things…

  Her eyes drifted to Vanded.

  She didn’t take him to be an idiot, but he’d never struck her as the scholarly type.

  Though she supposed he did make a lot of references to old and obscure events in the game dialogue. Maybe these were historical texts?

  Vanded’s chest almost seemed to puff out slightly as he observed Serel’s reaction. “Like what you see, do you? Say the word and you can have any of these volumes or texts. I’ve read every last one. Nothin’ better than passin’ knowledge to the young and sharp-eyed.”

  “Really?” Serel’s voice lifted. Her eyes immediately turned to the nearest shelf, but then she stopped herself, and a tiny frown formed on her face before she shook her head. “No… I’m okay.”

  Vanded raised his brows. “You sure?”

  She nodded firmly. “Mmm.”

  Vera studied her, curious. Maybe the girl didn’t want to seem greedy. Did she think it would be rude to just take them now, or was this something else?

  “You wouldn’t happen to have anything on dragons, would you, Vanded?” Vera asked, looking at Vanded.

  “Dragons?” He perked up, rubbing his beard.

  Serel’s eyes flicked toward Vera, a small spark of excitement brightening them. Vera returned it with a faint smile.

  “Course I’ve got dragon tales,” Vanded said. “More of ‘em than I’d like, to be properly honest.” He shot yet another grin at Serel. “If that’s where your fancy lies, we’ll find something to light that fire proper.”

  He moved to one of the shelves and began pulling out books, stacking them into the crook of one arm. “Let’s see… Chronicles of the Wyrmrest, Song of Scales and Stone, The Thirteenth Brood, Ashflight Hymns, Emberspire Legends, The Golden Coil, Dracontide Testimonies…” He muttered titles as he went.

  Vera eyed the growing mountain of texts and decided to step in. “Just one or two is enough for now. Serel’s already got plenty to read at home, and Gard lent us a few that we’re still working through.”

  “Gard already got to you, did he?” Vanded’s tone dropped to mild disappointment as he paused mid-selection. Still, he set most of the books back, keeping two. He carried them over and held them out to Vera. “Well, there’s no ‘borrowing’ from me. These belong to the little one now. Hope she’ll learn to appreciate the old tales.”

  Vera accepted the books, a touch uncertain what to make of his enthusiasm. But Serel’s seeming excitement was enough reason not to comment. She stored the volumes into her Vaultring with a quiet flick of Resonance.

  Vanded clapped his hands together. “But we can’t forget the most important thing!” he declared, voice swelling like he was about to announce a feast.

  He moved toward the corner—doing a decent job of not knocking anything over—where a cabinet of blackened iron framed with carved bone stood half-hidden behind a shelf. With one hand, he slid the shelf aside, then conjured a massive, sigil-etched key from his Vaultring and fitted it into an equally massive lock.

  The key turned with a low grind. Vera watched as Resonance pulsed through the iron veins of the cabinet, threads of light running across the surface while sigils flared and came undone one by one.

  The doors creaked open. Several objects rested inside, each wrapped in warded cloth and faintly glowing. Vanded reached in and drew out one, its surface covered in binding script.

  Vera thought she sensed an undercurrent of dense Resonance from it.

  He held the object in one hand, closed the cabinet with the other, and turned back to them. Stepping over, he kneeled before Serel, loosening the cloth to reveal a candle-thin stalk of pulsing, pale light.

  Vera’s eyes widened.

  “This here’s a Wick of the Quiet Wake,” he said. “Rare things, these are. This one only grows once every decade or so. Last I found went to my daughter, and she never parted with it.” He smiled at Serel. “And this one’s yours—so be sure to tell your mother how generous old Uncle Vanded is, eh?”

  “Blazegrip,” Vera spoke up. “You’re seriously giving that to a kid?”

  In Ashen Legacy, the Wick of the Quiet Wake was an incredibly valuable reagent. If you ever found it in the auction house, it’d go for several hundred godmarks.

  He looked up at her without hesitation. “I’m givin’ it to your kid, Mournvale. Seems fitting enough.”

  Serel stared at the flickering light that only looked half corporeal, her hands rising tentatively. “It’s so pretty… What is it?”

  Vanded chuckled. “Other than a Wick of the Quiet Wake? It’s a diary you don’t have to write.” He leaned closer. “Here, I’ll show you.”

  He extended a broad hand beneath Serel’s, dwarfing it as he carefully guided it closer to the Wick. A pulse of light shimmered out as her fingers neared, and Vera tensed—ready to intervene—but the glow only brightened softly before fading again.

  After a few quiet seconds, Serel withdrew her hand, eyes wide. “Wow! That’s so cool!” she breathed, a grin breaking across her face.

  “Isn’t it?” Vanded said with the same excitement. “So, how about it? Want it?”

  Serel looked from the Wick to Vera. “Mommy… can I?”

  Vera glanced between them, considering. She wasn’t sure what effect it had just showcased beyond the brief flare of Resonance. Its in-game version didn’t do much beyond being a reagent. But Vanded had said it was like a diary you didn’t have to write, and she doubted that the man would hand something actually dangerous to a six-year-old.

  And the look on Serel’s face wasn’t one she could refuse.

  “Fine,” she said, motioning.

  Serel’s expression lit up even further as she turned back to Vanded.

  Vera breathed a quiet sigh. She was fairly certain that being a good mother meant learning how to say no—but maybe that was a skill she didn’t have.

  Her own mother had denied and scolded her constantly. Could she could try channeling that?

  She watched as Serel reached toward the Wick again, but before the girl could touch it, Vanded drew his hand back slightly and raised a finger. “Ah, wait just a moment, lass. What do we say?”

  Serel blinked, confused. She furrowed her brow with thought again, then turned toward Vera with another pleading look.

  “It’s usually polite to say ‘thank you,’ Serel,” Vera offered.

  Understanding dawned on the girl’s face, and she turned back. “Thank you!”

  Vanded seemed amused by that but shook his head. “That’s good—but what about me?” He pointed to himself. “What do you call me?”

  Serel paused again before finally connecting the dots. “Thank you, Uncle Vanded!”

  Delight that Vera wouldn’t have thought belonged spread over the man’s face. “Hah! Don’t you mention it, Serel,” he said, handing the Wick over.

  She cradled it in both hands, staring down at it with quiet wonder, the faint light playing across her expression.

  “If you want to play around with it a bit, you can borrow my chair over by the desk,” Vanded said. He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “It swivels.”

  Serel’s eyes darted toward the large chair behind the desk—the only real piece of furniture beyond the cabinet not covered in books. Then, after glancing back at him, she hurried over. After some effort, she managed to climb into it without letting the Wick out of her hands, and she laughed softly as the chair turned with the movement, her legs dangling far above the floor.

  Vera savored the sight before turning back to Vanded as he rose from his knees and took a step closer.

  “Where’d you even get something like that?” she asked.

  “The Table’s vault,” he said simply.

  “Oh.” Vera nodded, thoughtful. “Gard mentioned it, but I didn’t realize this place had direct access like that.”

  “It’s not something we Chapter-Masters share lightly.” Vanded crossed his arms, his gaze still fixed on Serel.

  They stood in silence for a while, both watching the girl spin slowly in the chair and focus on the Wick.

  Eventually, Vera spoke again. “Maybe we should step out for this next part. We need to talk, don’t we?”