Owlknight

he decided at last. Silverfox was infinitely more skilled at such things than he - as well he should be, since it was one of the duties of a kestra’chern, to keep all the interpersonal relationships running smoothly within the group to which he or she belonged, be it city or Vale, army or Clan.

Let Silverfox make what he can of it, he decided. And at that point, it was past time to do any more thinking of his own - he stepped aside at a particular point in the path marked by a lamp- standard shaped like an elongated gryphon, holding the glass globe of the lamp in one extended claw. Darian paused when Fire-song did, looking faintly puzzled, and Firesong drew aside the curtain of flowering vines that had hidden a clearing at the foot of a tree too small as yet to support an ekele. He gave Darian’s shoulder a push, sending him into the center of the clearing, where he was surrounded by friends and well-wishers, all eager to congratulate him on his new status. Hertasi had been waiting for just this moment, and as soon as Darian was escorted to a seat of cushions piled up against the trunk of the tree, they swarmed him with offerings of food and drink.

Firesong stayed for a time, but kept his silence, as those who were mages monopolized the conversation. Those of Master rank and above - Starfall, Snowfire, and others - related their own Mastery Trials, as those who had not yet attained the rank of Master listened eagerly and a little enviously, then pelted the others with questions.

It was altogether too much like a gathering of scouts comparing the latest skills of their bondbirds. Each and every nuance and tactic was described and debated in staggering detail. When anyone asked Firesong a question directly, he answered it, but otherwise kept silent.

Although he hid it well, he was just as tired as Darian, and with as much reason; he had cultivated an appearance of calm, even indifference, but beneath it he had laid careful safety precautions, planning for the very worst. All of those safeguards had been integrated into his shields, of course, ensuring that Darian wouldn’t notice them - it was good for the young man’s confidence. Doing so had cost him a great deal in terms of work. The energy could be replaced, but the physical labor meant he needed his own rest. He’d also had an emotional stake in the trial that had worn him out; he was ready for relaxation, not a seminar.

So he waited until the celebration was well underway, and he knew he would not be missed, before he slipped out.

Once on his own, he took off his mask and used it as a fan - not that he was very hot, but it was pleasant to feel the cool air on his face. He walked slowly back to the ekele he shared with Silverfox, taking note as he walked of all of the improvements that the hertasi had made along the trail. He liked to be able to compliment them on specifics; it made them very happy when their handiwork was noted in detail.

For instance, the lamps had been replaced recently, so that they all matched. Much effort had gone into color matching the opaque, blue glass globes that protected the flames of the lamps from being blown out. All of the oil reservoirs matched, too - now they were made of green porcelain that harmonized with the blue glass. It was a very effective touch.

A Vale to match my outfit. How nice.

The standards themselves remained the same. Along this path they were all in the shapes of living things, inhabitants of the Vale. The gryphon at the entrance to the clearing was just one example; the standard Firesong was just passing was in the shape of an elongated hertasi, and the one just ahead in the form of an attenuated dyheli. Sometimes Firesong wondered if they were portraits of particular individuals, but he had never asked, and since none of the standards were of humans, he couldn’t tell by examining them in passing. Individuals of each species had distinctive markings and proportions, of course. Representations of those weren’t apparent, not in the ones he had seen, at any rate. It certainly didn’t detract from their beauty.

The path he was on crossed with another - the hertasi had not yet gotten around to replacing the lamps here to make them match. The bell-shaped glass covers were also blue, but they were of differing sizes and shapes, and were not all of the same color of glass. The standards, however, were all similar; simple wooden poles with vines trained to climb up them. The effect was more rustic and less baroque, and reminded him of all of the makeshifts that they had used when the Vale was first settled.

Two lamps marked the entrance to Silverfox’s home, a structure very much like Darian’s, a dome made of stone with rounded corners on the added chambers. It was covered with vines, so that it looked from outside as if there was nothing there except a heap of greenery. Somewhat to Firesong’s surprise, Silverfox was waiting for him, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Well, stranger, what are you doing out here?” he asked, pausing to admire the view. Silverfox had always been a handsome fellow, but in Firesong’s opinion, he had improved with age. He had lost some of the softness along his jawline that had made him look younger than he actually was, and the silver streak running from his temple all through his waist-length hair had grown wider by no more than a finger’s-width. Somehow he always managed to wear garments that harmonized with Firesong’s - blue and black, for instance, to Firesong’s current blue and green.

“Waiting for you; I knew you wouldn’t be too late at the party,” came the easy reply. “You never did care much for discussions of technique, and that’s all they’re going to get into tonight - hmmm. Well, you won’t be involved in - magical power technique, anyway.” He cast his eyes upward a little, as if he was calculating something. “By now I expect they’ve reached the stage of drawing diagrams on whatever surface is available.”

Firesong laughed. “I expect you’re right,” he replied. “I’d rather keep discussions of technique for lessons; it’s not my notion of conversational material.”

“Come on, then,” Silverfox said, standing up straight and beckoning. “I have refreshments cooling on the top deck, and there’s a good breeze.”