Steven Schend: Blackstaff

"Tarik, I'll need you to go with Danthra and Lynx. She and Trehgan will teach you how to dress the deer." The ten-year-old stood up and perched his fists on his hips in defiance. "No. I won't do it. Our father didn't send us here to hunt deer in strange woods-that's servant's work." "Be that as it may, my haughty little Tethyrian,"

Tsarra said, quickly winning the staring contest the boy had tried to start, "you are a servant of the Blackstaff and of me until you learn magic that proves otherwise. It is our will that you learn how to gut a deer this morning. Besides, if we don't fill the larder of Blackstaff Tower before winter comes, we'll be out here in chest-deep snows hunting rabbits. You'll be out here regardless, as you need to learn how to walk more quietly." The boy stomped off in a huff, swiftly pursued by Lynx who playfully tossed a handful of leaves into the boy's face, encouraging him to chase her. Danthra rolled her eyes and said, "Well, hurry along and don't leave all the worst work to us.

We still need to break camp and return to the city before it gets much later." "Aye. See you soon, Dreamer." Tsarra said, and she moved over toward the giggling boy who rolled in the fallen leaves, a fast-moving, sleek creature scampering around and atop him. As Tsarra neared them, the creature squeaked and fled inside Chaid's wide sleeve. That provoked a "Whoop!" from the boy, and Tsarra smiled as a bulge moved around beneath the wool, seeking a safe place to hide on his new friend. "Chaid, it's wonderful to see you've found your familiar." The boy looked up at her and beamed. Just as heavily garbed as his brother, Chaid was the opposite of his twin in most ways. Quiet and contemplative, he only spoke when necessary, perhaps because he rarely got a word in edgewise around Tarik. Chaid's remarkable bronze eyes stared at her-and a weasel's head popped from Chaid's shirt directly beneath his chin. Tsarra gasped-the weasel's fur matched Chaid's eyes perfectly. "He's so happy to meet me, and you too. I think he likes your smell. Can I call him Brakar? That's the queen's coin of Darromar!" Chaid asked, coaxing the weasel out to snuggle in his arms. "I don't know, Chaid. He's not a pet. You should only use a name he prefers to be called, in case he already has a name. If he doesn't provide one or ask for one, don't call him anything. After all, my tressym has yet to tell me his name after ten years of bonding, but he and I get along fine. Lady Laeral has taken to calling him Nameless for the sake of convenience, so if you need to talk to him, he doesn't seem to mind being called that." Chaid brought the weasel up to his eyes and spoke to him. "Do you already have a name?"

Even Tsarra needed no explanation when the weasel shook its head.

"Would you like a name, so we can be friends?" Chaid asked, and the weasel chattered and bobbed his entire body. "Then I shall call you Brakar. I'm so glad to meet you, friend." Chaid's eyes were rimmed with tears as Brakar jumped up onto Tsarra and began sniffing her.

Chaid said, "He likes the name, I think. It's like he's never had a name so it's a present to him. I'm feeling excited, but there's something more." Tsarra said, "You're feeling his emotions too, through the link you now share. As time goes on and you learn more magic, that bond will grow stronger. He's another living being, like you, that responded to a call by the Weave and nature to bond. That bond teaches each of you more with an expanded perspective on magic and life both." "Well, I learned one thing already, teacher," Chaid said, smirking. "What's that?" "Tarik is jealous that I have something he doesn't and he wants a familiar too, now." "Well, we can try another day." "Tarik can't sit still for even one bell, let alone one day, listening to the call of the ritual." "Well, on that note, let's go see how the others are faring at prepping our catches for transport back to the city. The sun's now fully above the horizon. We've got to hurry back."

28 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR)

"Oh my…" They had just turned onto Seaseye March, and Tsarra looked to see at what Danthra had gasped. She saw a man ducking his head and much of his shirtless torso into a rain barrel. He quickly whipped his body from the water, small ice shards obvious on the disturbed surface, and he growled as he shook his long hair and shoulders, spraying the area with water. He was trim and muscular with a small tattoo Tsarra couldn't identify on his left shoulder. He ran his fingers through his hair, squeezing more water from it, and smiled a dazzling smile as he noticed Tsarra, Danthra, and Traya watching him. He winked, and Tsarra blushed. He was directly along their path, so they could hardly avoid him. As explanation, he shrugged and explained, "Cheaper than a festhall or bath house." "Isn't that cold?"

Traya whispered. Danthra's and Tsarra's eyes both widened-Traya was often too shy to speak at all, let alone to strangers. "No worse than on Auril's Blesstide." He winked at the girl. Tsarra smiled, imagining the fit young man running naked through Waterdeep's streets the morning of the first frost to plunge into the ocean. He's alluring, I'll grant him that, Tsarra thought. The man pulled his hair back into a tight ponytail and stared at Tsarra. To her surprise, she didn't mind. Tsarra only shook her head from her daydream when her familiar-one of the very few winged cats in Waterdeep-zoomed past her, yowling, "Mistressfriend wantneed horseheadmale rnatebehappyfriend?"

Even though she knew no one else understood him, she snarled back at him before addressing her students, "All right, all of you. Boys, help Trehgan with the deer." In response, Tarik cupped his hands and cackled as a scarlet disk hovered in the air before him. "I can carry it myself with this!" Trehgan, the wild-haired and strongly built man who had been carrying the carcass across his shoulders, shrugged it up and over, dropping it onto Tarik's floating disk. Trehgan stretched his shoulders with a groan and griped, "Wish you'd thought of that a few miles ago, midget…" He playfully tousled the boy's hair to defuse any tempers. Lhoris and Lynx bore the two braces of birds over their shoulders, and Traya carried a basket heaped with a wide variety of herbs. Chaid remained fascinated with his weasel familiar as it darted from one shoulder to another or perched on his head, excited at its first view of the City of Splendors. The group, having just come up from the beaches, entered the city through the Westgate. They bypassed the northern gates and used the path to walk the sand and mud flats, their passage only slowed by the occasional fishing boat or a call from a guard on the wall above them. Tsarra always came back into the city that way to avoid a lot of hindering traffic. They were late, so they had to hurry back to the tower to not miss mornfeast. In the hustle and bustle of the morning crowds, by the time they had reached Julthoon Street, they'd forgotten the man in the alley.

That was too close, Raegar old son. The man wiped off the last of the water and pulled his red shirt over his head. Raegar watched the eight apprentices of Blackstaff Tower turn off of Seaseye March. His impromptu act appeared to have worked, at least on the two older apprentices. Still, the suspicious looks the elf girl had given him and the large barbarian with them showed him he'd wandered too close.

None of them noticed him following the night before as they headed off to Pellamcopse, nor did he think they'd heard him as he left them to return to the city before dawn. For the past few tendays, he had watched the tower and its denizens. He'd avoided being noticed at all.

.. until that morning. He expected the group to take Westwall Street around to Julthoon, but they cut down Seaseye, where he skulked with no place in which to hide. The impromptu morning ablutions in the rain barrel were the only thing Raegar could think of to make himself fit in there and not stand out as an obvious spy. Raegar knew his looks could be a distraction, but he had a larger problem. They didn't know his name, but neither Danthra nor Tsarra Chaadren would forget him soon. And that made his job all the more troublesome.