The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage

WM [5] One Exception

The Isi were finally safe by the order of the First Princess. Tyr and all the members of the Isi survivors were taken into protective custody. They were kept out of the central city and lodged in one of the many inns in a demilune town. The proprietors were shocked that what, to them, were VIPs of the royal family were staying in their small establishment.

“We will take all of your rooms,” Thorfinn said as he placed a bag of gold coins on the counter. “I will compensate any guest that has to be removed. Also, do you know anywhere I could get a good stag steak?”

“R-right away, Royal Hand!” the owner, an old nighthand man, said with a deep bow. “I will have everyone out, and my wife will prepare your meal immediately.”

After everyone was situated and food served, Tyr stood before everyone. He looked tired, beaten, and bruised but not broken. He stood straight and looked over all the survivors, then took a deep lungful of air, releasing it slowly through his nose and closing his eyes. When he opened them again, there was resolve.

“We survived!” Tyr yelled. “Against the might of the Salstars, the First Prince, and the Knights… we survived against all odds! I promise we will all rebuild, ascend to greater heights, and honor everyone we lost. The Isi have proved that we are strong and will do what it takes to survive and thrive!” Tyr took another deep breath. “Tonight, we will rest safely for the first time in a month so we can face tomorrow with the same ferocity that got us out of the Salstars’ hands.”

After eating, Bjorn decided to look around the inn. There was little he could do to cheer up the Isi, and Tanisha seemed okay. She slingshot between Tyr and Owen, the two having lost so much in the escape. The inn was located in the small town nestled against the inside of the demilune. The place was set up for travelers in and out of the city, acting as a rest stop. The staff seemed to be a single family of multiple generations, all nighthand wendigo.

The place had a cozy feel and was tailored towards the non-wendigo patrons who came to the city with coffers full of coins. Wendigo’s design was often bland, with practicality and longevity as the focus over aesthetics. This place matched closely with what Bjorn took as human design.

“Well, that was crazy. Honestly, I thought we were goners when Ingrid showed up,” Failsafe said.

“Yeah, me too. So what was that effect, aura, spell?” Bjorn asked. “Whatever she used on us.”

“I don’t know. Tanisha said Ingrid is an anti-Magic mage. So I can only assume she can cut people off from their magic and eliminate ambient mana, but I don’t know because I am a magic construct, so when it hit us, the magic I use to function stopped.”

“Are you damaged from that?” Bjorn asked.

“You do care!” Failsafe said excitedly. “No, I will be fine, but if we are stuck in a magic seal like that for a couple thousand years, I will be in trouble.”

“Couple thousand years? How could you possibly know that?” Bjorn asked.

“I think I know how my spellform works. Don’t get us trapped somewhere for that long, though. It would be extremely boring after the first hundred years or so.”

“Did you see that other thing before it stopped all magic?” Bjorn asked.

“The omega familiar bond thing that allowed her to turn into her familiar and turn back? Yeah, that was kind of hard to miss. I don’t know what crazy process it would take for someone to do something like that.”

“She is essentially a wendigonir,” Bjorn added.

“That is a terrible name,” Failsafe stated flatly. “Dragodigo is much better. Who is to say the wendigo part should go first?”

“Dracwend?” Bjorn said thoughtfully.

“Ehh… we’ll workshop it,” Failsafe said softly as if trying not to upset Bjorn. “For now, let’s get some more food!”

Bjorn and Tanisha woke up to someone knocking at their door. It was barely morning, judging by the sun, and Tanisha groaned her dissatisfaction after finally having a bed for the first time in a few weeks. She sleepily rubbed her eyes, reluctantly sat up, and scooted to the edge of the bed. The knocking continued, so she quickly threw on her robe and drearily walked to the door.

“Who is it? I am coming,” she said in a long, barely intelligible slur.

When she touched the door, it flew open with a bright light.

“You are Sif, right?” a female voice rang out. “Goodness, Forest Father above, we have our work cut out for us with this one.” She walked into the room, looked around, and was unimpressed by the accommodations. “My name is Signe Jet, Royal Hand of First Princess Sigrun. You may refer to me as Royal Hand Jet or simply Hand Jet. I know your kind doesn’t bow, so I will let that slide for now.”

Bjorn and Tanisha’s eyes slowly adjusted as the woman’s eyes darted around the room, then onto them with an equally unimpressed look.

Identify
Name: Signe Jet
Species: Wendigo
Level: ??
Vocation: Royal Enchantress, Seventh Circle

The woman continued after she looked Tanisha over again. “They said you looked like a wendigo, but I didn’t know what to expect. What kind of demon are you?”

“A cernunnos. Wait, huh, why are you here?” Tanisha questioned, still bleary-eyed.

Bjorn was surprised she answered with the actual name of her evolved species. It didn’t seem to matter as the Hand nodded and didn’t even seem to know that Tanisha was not a demon. She was the only cernunnos in existence, and there wasn’t a way to tell if something was greater, normal, or lesser by appearance.

“To get you ready to meet with Her Majesty, of course,” Signe said nonchalantly. She clapped twice. “Ladies, she is in here.”

Five women entered the room upon her summons, one pushing in a wooden tub. More lights flooded the room from tiny motes of magic that seemed to follow the servants around. The women were all wendigo, and they moved quickly and efficiently.

Bjorn finally got a good look at the women. Signe was in the black and traditional garb of a Hand, with the veil over her face with the royal family insignia. By the look of her midnight black arms, she was a nighthand wendigo. The servants were mixed between snowfallen and woodentails and were moving quickly to set up their stations.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Tanisha said as they started taking off her clothing.

“As I said, we are getting you ready for your audience with the First Princess,” Signe stated matter-of-factly. “We still have measurements, hair, makeup—oh Trues above, give me strength.”

The wooden tub was set in the middle of the room, and one of the women filled it with hydromancy. After some struggle, the servants stripped her down and got her into the tub. Then, the scrubbing began. Tanisha looked over to Bjorn, who was still comfortably lazing on the bed.

“You didn’t help at all,” Tanisha pouted.

Signe’s gaze fell on the familiar. “He will be getting a wash after you are done.”

When the women were finally done scrubbing and washing, Tanisha and Bjorn took measurements to fit her. They trimmed and styled Tanisha’s long hair into a waterfall braid. Her hair had grown to about halfway down her back after her evolution.

Hours crawled by as Tanisha was shaved, made up, and dressed. When they were finally done, the beauty of her new form was fully accentuated in her new yellow double-slit dress. It was even customized with a hidden hole for her tail. There was no time for her to look herself over as she was rushed out of the room as soon as they were done.

“Where are we going?” Tanisha asked.

“The Isi Patriarch, Joha, and yourself have been summoned to the Fort Palace,” Signe answered promptly. She now had a notepad in her hand. “I was assigned to you to ensure you are presentable and aware of our customs. Demons typically have a…” she paused to consider her words, “rambunctious nature. I am told it has something to do with maya. Regardless, we will start with basic etiquette, and by noon, you should be ready to meet with First Princess Sigrun.”

“Hand Jet, I already know wendigo etiquette,” Tanisha said.

“You do?” Signe seemed skeptical. “Well, showing is proving. You must show me you have the proper training, which will allow for things to proceed quickly.”

Bjorn didn’t want to watch etiquette training and was glad he was an animal. He decided he would lay back down in the bed and sleep until they were ready to leave. At least, that is what he thought until the servants of the Hand motioned for him to follow. He turned and saw Tanisha smirking.

“You thought you got out of this, didn’t you?” Tanisha said sweetly, with an undertone, “If I have to do this, you do too.”

“That familiar has to be trained as well,” Signe stated. “It is my understanding that you are his second master.”

“Uh, yes,” Tanisha lied. “His original master, Freja, was unfortunately killed in the raid.”

“I see,” Signe said with a brief pause and a slight nod of respect. “Sorry for your losses. So that means you inherited the bond, then?”

“Yes, it is the only reason I could keep him as a Delta Familiar.”

Bjorn hadn’t heard of inheriting a bond before but guessed it meant that if a person died, they could transfer it to someone they trusted. He wondered how it worked. As far as he knew, the bond required trust to function. So, maybe he would also have to want to bond with that person.

Signe was again quiet for a moment, and Bjorn couldn’t read her expression. Then, she stated, “Now, we are off.”

Failsafe said in Bjorn’s head, “I don’t like that we have to return to that city. Can’t we leave?”

Bjorn agreed; they had just spent two weeks trying to escape, and now they would waltz back in.

“I am sure the last thing Tanisha wants is to make an enemy of the royal family,” Bjorn responded internally. “But keep a lookout for anything suspicious.”

The next few hours were spent drilling in the proper way to act in a meeting with royalty: when it is okay to ask questions, stand, how to sit, how to eat—even for familiars. Because Bjorn was intelligent, he also needed to follow special rules. Bjorn didn’t mind because they were simple instructions, and, more importantly, they also got a full breakfast.

Signe was surprised at the apparent truth of Tanisha’s words. She did have a deep understanding of the proper protocols, with one exception. In certain situations, people with tails had different sitting methods and other tail placements. Tanisha didn’t know that because, well, why would she? Up until two weeks ago, she didn’t have one.

“Move your leg here, and be sure to drape your tail right to the left, but do not let it just dangle like that,” Signe said, exasperated. “Stand up and try sitting again!”

It was midday before it was finally time to go. A large carriage and an entire armed battalion were waiting outside the inn. Tyr and Joha, who had the same treatment as her, stood at the door. Tyr looked better and less gaunt, though stress and loss couldn’t be entirely hidden by makeup and a haircut. They dressed him in a baby blue suit with a shoulder cape and a silver embroidered crest of the Isi house. On the other hand, Joha was wearing traditional garb from his homeland, which looked far fancier than what he had worn to the Isi’s banquet, what felt like ages ago.

“You look amazing, Sif,” Joha said.

“Wow, yeah,” Tyr responded.

“You both look quite handsome yourselves,” Tanisha smiled. “Amazing what food and a bath can do, right?”

“Yes, yes, you all look gorgeous,” Signe said enthusiastically. “Honestly, I can’t believe how well you cleaned up.” She clapped her hands. “Now we are on a schedule, people, and I will not leave the First Princess waiting.”

“Wait, where is Owen?” Tanisha asked.

“He… won’t be coming,” Joha said quietly. “He still needs time.”

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