Lia slept the sleep of the dead, undisturbed for the rest of the day and night after she arrived.
Well, mostly undisturbed. She was woken briefly shortly after collapsing into the bed, as Vito informed her she'd need slightly more extensive healing on her wound than a simple potion could mend, even the strongest he had. Lia found she was too tired to put up any argument. As it turned out, she fell right back asleep, and any further magic after that didn't wake her again.
When she finally did wake up again, it was to the uncomfortable twisting of hunger in her stomach, piercing through the general grogginess. She'd only removed her armor and her boots, preferring to sleep with the rest of her clothes on. Had she not been so tired and still in need of healing she would've never allowed herself to sleep in another person's house, but the circumstances demanded it. And while she was always wary, Vito had proved himself a friend, enough that she could trust him to watch her back while she slept rather than fearing anything from him.
She sat up slowly, pushing her mess of hair out of her face and lifting up her shirt halfway to get a look at her new scar. It was a few inches long, starting just below her lowest rib on her left side and running down about a third the length of her abdomen. Probably the worst one she had, actually. In all the action she'd seen with the Lions and then the Inquisition, Lia had somehow avoided all but minor injuries.
She should've known better than to attack someone like Leta alone. She'd given her an arrow for the trouble, but it probably only slowed her for a moment.
"Thought I heard you stirring." Lia looked up to find the girl Marisol in the doorway. "Good morning. There's some food left downstairs if you're hungry."
"Morning?" The storage room they'd put her up in didn't have so much as a window.
Marisol nodded. "Mhm. You definitely needed the rest. I thought Vito was going to have to knock you out to keep working on your side, but you're a heavy sleeper."
"Not usually." She mumbled the words more than anything, before shaking her head. "I'll be out in a minute. Thank you." She'd missed a whole day, which meant Cor had been left to report to Julian without her. By Marisol's relaxed demeanor she assumed nothing else had happened in the meantime, but still... she pulled on her boots and started fastening them. She needed to get moving.
She tried to make a quick escape once she was ready to leave, but Marisol was an effective host, and the lure of breakfast food could not be ignored. "Papà's off at the markets," she explained. "We saved you some, though. Seriously, you should eat. You must be starving." Lia couldn't argue with that, and found herself shrugging off her bow and pack again, and helping herself to the still warm scrambled eggs and toast.
About halfway through the process of polishing off the food, the front door jingled, just loud enough to hear from the kitchen upstairs. "Marisol?" Cor's familiar voice followed almost immediately, pitched to carry but not to startle.
"Come on up!" she called, recognizing the sound. "Thought you might be by."
With permission to enter the 'home' portion of the building, Cor obliged, the stairs creaking slightly with his ascent. He rounded the corner into the kitchen a moment later, face lighting in a smile. "She wakes," he said it with a light tone, but did a pretty terrible job of keeping the actual concern at bay, his expression considerably more serious.
Taking up a spot in the doorway, he leaned a shoulder against it. No armor today, which could be good or bad depending. "Feeling better?"
"Good enough," was her answer, and it was honest. She'd need a few hours to get up to full speed again, and it was a good thing it didn't seem like they had a job to do today. And while Vito did an excellent job with the healing, he wasn't a miracle worker. She'd known one before, and this wasn't that. But she was alive and relatively well, and that was a much better outcome than what she could've ended up with.
She noted Marisol's somewhat speedy exit from the room, heading back downstairs to keep an eye on the shop and give them some privacy. "Did I miss anything worthwhile?" she asked. She wasn't really sure what to expect from Cor, honestly, but then, Lia hadn't really processed what she'd done, and what it could mean, just yet. That was going to take some time.
He'd eased a bit at her answer, but Marisol's departure and the question seemed to return a bit of the tension to him—he wasn't really all that good at hiding things, in general. "Not really," he replied, shifting uneasily. "Vito filled me in on the parts of the story I didn't get earlier, and then I made a report to Julien. Unsurprisingly it's going to be a while before he can get back to us with anything useful."
He almost looked like he went to cross his arms, then decided consciously against it, hooking his thumbs into his belt instead. She could just see the hilt of a shortsword behind him that way—it was just his everyday sidearm. "You took a shot at her," he said plainly. He offered no more than that, regarding her expectantly.
"Of course I did." She couldn't help but let her tone become slightly defensive. She wasn't mad at him, though, nor was she surprised he'd want to bring it up. She was more frustrated at herself. "Should've been the only shot that was needed. But I screwed up." She should've been more careful, she should've waited for a better moment, she should've anticipated Leta's movement and adjusted for that. She should've been better.
"If I'd killed her, everything would've fallen into place. The Venatori would have no one left, Braven would fold to Kess or be destroyed, and everyone here could start moving forward again."
"Maybe," he conceded, though he didn't sound as certain as she was of the fact. "But you also could have died." His brows knit, a troubled frown settling onto his face. "Not that that's new, half the things we do could kill us, but—" He expelled what was left of his breath through his nose.
"Just... we're in this together. I wish you'd come back and let us plan something. Then it could have been my problem and yours, right?" A flicker of frustration pinched his features before it faded, but it didn't seem directed at her.
"I said I screwed up, didn't I?" She thought it was just a little hypocritical of him, given some of the things she'd seen him do, and other things she'd heard about and knew to be true. But she wasn't going to bring that up. "I saw a chance to make a difference right then and there, something I feel like we've barely been able to do here so far. And I took it." All she could think of was how hard Ithilian and Amalia had to work for every shot they got at Marcus, and how likely they'd be to pass up a chance like that if it fell into their laps.
But she wasn't either of her mentors. And Leta wasn't Marcus, no matter how much she'd learned from him. It was foolish of her to put Leta in the same light, and foolish of her to forget her own limitations. She sighed, not really feeling like finishing the food in front of her anymore. "It's everyone's problem now, I guess."
Cor nodded carefully, pursing his lips. "Right. I—never mind." His eyes fell just momentarily to his feet before he pulled in a deep breath and straightened. "I'm glad you're okay, anyway. It's been a really crazy couple of days." And the vacillation between the high of Arielle's birth and the low of basically everything after that had been extreme. He offered an almost-tentative lopsided smile.
"We'll work the rest out as we go. Which, uh, I guess I'm going to do. Are you heading back to the barracks?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I'm going to stop by the Alienage first. But I'll head there right after." He'd know by now that if he was welcome to come along, she'd have offered it to him. But this was definitely a conversation she needed to have alone, and she figured Cor wouldn't really want a part in it anyway.
"Thanks, by the way," she added. "For coming by. And I'm sorry if I scared you. I'm, uh... still trying to figure how to do all of this." If her history was anything to go off of, Lia had a tendency to be rash. But that was something she thought she had in common with Cor.
He relaxed a little more at that. "You and me both. I'll see you later, then." As good as his word, he pushed off the doorframe and departed without further fuss. She could hear him say something to Marisol downstairs, though not exactly what. Probably just a farewell or something. Then the door jangled again, and the shop went quiet.
She picked at her food a little more, some of her appetite returning now that the conversation was more or less salvaged. She was glad he didn't seem to have a problem with making the attempt to eliminate Leta for good, at least. Just the manner in which she'd done it. Lia didn't know if she could accept someone like Leta going back into a dungeon to rot. Somewhere she could still have power, somewhere she could get away again. No, she needed to end, and the Venatori needed to end with her. While she lived, some trace of Marcus still flittered in the air, and that was something Lia could not ignore. Could not allow.
She cleaned up after herself a little, though Marisol was quick to return and help. It was a little awkward, with Lia getting the sense that Marisol didn't really want her to hang around but absolutely not willing to say it. She could understand that. Lia and Cor had brought Vito some significant income recently, but it came at the cost of a lot of trouble, and some dangerous people knowing their names where they otherwise wouldn't have cared.
Lia bid Marisol farewell and took her leave before anyone else could show up to delay her. She'd have to thank Vito later. For now she headed towards the Alienage. Contrary to what she'd told Cor she didn't actually go inside, instead taking up a spot along a side street where it was relatively secluded and quiet, even during the daylight hours. She knew Arrin took it on his route, which at this time he'd probably be in the middle of. She just had to be patient.
It took a while for him to appear—carrying messages and deliveries was an irregular job, and where he was when often depended on who'd paid him to do what on a particular day. But after about an hour and a half of waiting, her patience bore fruit. Arrin approached from the west, tucking a bundle of parchment envelopes into a ratty, but well-patched, canvas bag slung over one shoulder. He did not initially seem to notice her, which was odd. He was far from as practiced an observer as she or even one of the other Lions, but he wasn't usually oblivious to his surroundings, either.
He finally picked up on her presence just before he would have passed her, head snapping up to blink blearily at her. Shaking himself slightly, he plastered on a smile. "Oh, uh... morning, Lia."
She wasn't surprised he'd be a little off from his normal self. No doubt he'd caught wind of some of the recent events from other Ashfingers. There had to be plenty of turmoil and doubt around with the organization essentially splitting in two. At least they weren't likely going to enter open conflict, since they did ultimately want similar things, even if they'd have very different ways of going about it. Attempted assassinations or no, Kess wasn't likely to want them all dead. Just the ones necessary to bring back the rest. Lia was hoping for something similar.
"Hey. Don't mind the look, I'm fine." Blood blended in pretty well with maroon, especially once it dried, but he'd probably notice when he got closer. "Just had an unfortunate run-in with some angry former members of a certain faction here." She glanced around one more time to make sure they had privacy before she patted the spot next to her on the bench she'd chosen. "I'm assuming you've heard some things recently?"
Arrin grimaced, but sat down without further prompting. "Yeah. It's been—it's been tense. Last couple days, the lines are really getting drawn. Word is Braven laid an ambush for Kestrel, but someone else sprung the trap." He looked pointedly at one of the patches of dried blood. "Guess you'd know more about than than me."
He expelled a breath and leaned back, raking a thin hand through his hair to pull it back away from his face. "Everything's starting to separate. Informants are choosing sides, and the ordinary members like me. No one's died yet that I know of, but there's a few places some people aren't all welcome anymore, you know? It's like they're dividing up the city for now." Probably with at least some intent of clashing once the lines were in place.
Lia hoped it wouldn't come to that. The last thing they needed was the elves killing each other over a disagreement. That said, the current predicament was not as bad as the thought of Braven winning the confrontation, and having the Ashfingers absorbed into his Vhenallin. That kind of power in his hands would do nothing good for anyone.
"Braven's in league with some Venatori remnants. Very dangerous people. Guess he sees them as a means to an end, but I doubt he really knows what he's getting into." Whatever sympathy an elf such as Leta had for her people had to be overshadowed by her hate of other things. Clearly she didn't care if elves died to help her get what she wanted. She met eyes with Arrin. "I'm going to take care of this, but I can't do it on my own. Information is what I need most right now, and I don't have a lot of ways to get it. You, on the other hand..." She shrugged lightly, though her tone was quite serious. "I'm not asking you to get mixed up with Vhenallin, but if you can put yourself in the right place at the right time, and you hear something I can use... we can't let this get worse, you know?"
Arrin hunched his shoulders, features pinching, almost like a drawn-out wince. "I dunno, Lia. I was thinking about trying to... kind of sit between the two, see what I could see, all that. But—Braven doesn't mess around. Neither does Kestrel, come to think of it. I'm not sure how well I'll do, you know? If someone catches me—I can talk my way out of a lot of things, but I'm not sure that's one of them."
She wasn't fond of doing this. Like many city elves, Arrin didn't have the most confidence. She was much the same once, as there simply wasn't any reason for it. No reason to believe things would turn out okay. But unlike Arrin Lia had seen that they could turn out okay, and consistently too. It was just a matter of effort and skill. She knew Arrin had the latter, more than he gave himself credit for. But sometimes the former had to be forced before it would roll on its own.
"There are a lot of people in your position right now, though. Caught between the two, and forced to choose. Both of them have to know that, and they have to respect it. If they pull too hard, they're going to lose. And I know you can do this. Start with whatever you're comfortable with, and go from there. Anything helps." And if the time came where he absolutely had to pick a side, he could always fall in with Kestrel. Whatever their disagreements, she was absolutely the lesser of the evils here.
He pressed his lips together, but slowly nodded. "Okay. I—yeah. All right. I'll give it a shot." Shifting, he stood, brushing down his trousers and curling his mouth in a small smile. "We've all got to do our parts, right? Between you and my mom, I guess I'm convinced." No doubt Riris wouldn't especially approve of this, but like the rest of them, she had to work with what she had. Arrin had often expressed a desire to help her, even if he did it in ways she would never have asked him to.
"I guess I'll keep you updated, then. Take care of yourself, Lia."
"You too. I'll check in every few days for now."
She expelled a breath that had been pent up in her when he was gone, and she was alone again. She hadn't really been aware of it. She waited another few minutes before she started back for the barracks. The work was done for the moment, but somehow Lia felt she wouldn't really be able to relax for a long time yet.
Well, mostly undisturbed. She was woken briefly shortly after collapsing into the bed, as Vito informed her she'd need slightly more extensive healing on her wound than a simple potion could mend, even the strongest he had. Lia found she was too tired to put up any argument. As it turned out, she fell right back asleep, and any further magic after that didn't wake her again.
When she finally did wake up again, it was to the uncomfortable twisting of hunger in her stomach, piercing through the general grogginess. She'd only removed her armor and her boots, preferring to sleep with the rest of her clothes on. Had she not been so tired and still in need of healing she would've never allowed herself to sleep in another person's house, but the circumstances demanded it. And while she was always wary, Vito had proved himself a friend, enough that she could trust him to watch her back while she slept rather than fearing anything from him.
She sat up slowly, pushing her mess of hair out of her face and lifting up her shirt halfway to get a look at her new scar. It was a few inches long, starting just below her lowest rib on her left side and running down about a third the length of her abdomen. Probably the worst one she had, actually. In all the action she'd seen with the Lions and then the Inquisition, Lia had somehow avoided all but minor injuries.
She should've known better than to attack someone like Leta alone. She'd given her an arrow for the trouble, but it probably only slowed her for a moment.
"Thought I heard you stirring." Lia looked up to find the girl Marisol in the doorway. "Good morning. There's some food left downstairs if you're hungry."
"Morning?" The storage room they'd put her up in didn't have so much as a window.
Marisol nodded. "Mhm. You definitely needed the rest. I thought Vito was going to have to knock you out to keep working on your side, but you're a heavy sleeper."
"Not usually." She mumbled the words more than anything, before shaking her head. "I'll be out in a minute. Thank you." She'd missed a whole day, which meant Cor had been left to report to Julian without her. By Marisol's relaxed demeanor she assumed nothing else had happened in the meantime, but still... she pulled on her boots and started fastening them. She needed to get moving.
She tried to make a quick escape once she was ready to leave, but Marisol was an effective host, and the lure of breakfast food could not be ignored. "Papà's off at the markets," she explained. "We saved you some, though. Seriously, you should eat. You must be starving." Lia couldn't argue with that, and found herself shrugging off her bow and pack again, and helping herself to the still warm scrambled eggs and toast.
About halfway through the process of polishing off the food, the front door jingled, just loud enough to hear from the kitchen upstairs. "Marisol?" Cor's familiar voice followed almost immediately, pitched to carry but not to startle.
"Come on up!" she called, recognizing the sound. "Thought you might be by."
With permission to enter the 'home' portion of the building, Cor obliged, the stairs creaking slightly with his ascent. He rounded the corner into the kitchen a moment later, face lighting in a smile. "She wakes," he said it with a light tone, but did a pretty terrible job of keeping the actual concern at bay, his expression considerably more serious.
Taking up a spot in the doorway, he leaned a shoulder against it. No armor today, which could be good or bad depending. "Feeling better?"
"Good enough," was her answer, and it was honest. She'd need a few hours to get up to full speed again, and it was a good thing it didn't seem like they had a job to do today. And while Vito did an excellent job with the healing, he wasn't a miracle worker. She'd known one before, and this wasn't that. But she was alive and relatively well, and that was a much better outcome than what she could've ended up with.
She noted Marisol's somewhat speedy exit from the room, heading back downstairs to keep an eye on the shop and give them some privacy. "Did I miss anything worthwhile?" she asked. She wasn't really sure what to expect from Cor, honestly, but then, Lia hadn't really processed what she'd done, and what it could mean, just yet. That was going to take some time.
He'd eased a bit at her answer, but Marisol's departure and the question seemed to return a bit of the tension to him—he wasn't really all that good at hiding things, in general. "Not really," he replied, shifting uneasily. "Vito filled me in on the parts of the story I didn't get earlier, and then I made a report to Julien. Unsurprisingly it's going to be a while before he can get back to us with anything useful."
He almost looked like he went to cross his arms, then decided consciously against it, hooking his thumbs into his belt instead. She could just see the hilt of a shortsword behind him that way—it was just his everyday sidearm. "You took a shot at her," he said plainly. He offered no more than that, regarding her expectantly.
"Of course I did." She couldn't help but let her tone become slightly defensive. She wasn't mad at him, though, nor was she surprised he'd want to bring it up. She was more frustrated at herself. "Should've been the only shot that was needed. But I screwed up." She should've been more careful, she should've waited for a better moment, she should've anticipated Leta's movement and adjusted for that. She should've been better.
"If I'd killed her, everything would've fallen into place. The Venatori would have no one left, Braven would fold to Kess or be destroyed, and everyone here could start moving forward again."
"Maybe," he conceded, though he didn't sound as certain as she was of the fact. "But you also could have died." His brows knit, a troubled frown settling onto his face. "Not that that's new, half the things we do could kill us, but—" He expelled what was left of his breath through his nose.
"Just... we're in this together. I wish you'd come back and let us plan something. Then it could have been my problem and yours, right?" A flicker of frustration pinched his features before it faded, but it didn't seem directed at her.
"I said I screwed up, didn't I?" She thought it was just a little hypocritical of him, given some of the things she'd seen him do, and other things she'd heard about and knew to be true. But she wasn't going to bring that up. "I saw a chance to make a difference right then and there, something I feel like we've barely been able to do here so far. And I took it." All she could think of was how hard Ithilian and Amalia had to work for every shot they got at Marcus, and how likely they'd be to pass up a chance like that if it fell into their laps.
But she wasn't either of her mentors. And Leta wasn't Marcus, no matter how much she'd learned from him. It was foolish of her to put Leta in the same light, and foolish of her to forget her own limitations. She sighed, not really feeling like finishing the food in front of her anymore. "It's everyone's problem now, I guess."
Cor nodded carefully, pursing his lips. "Right. I—never mind." His eyes fell just momentarily to his feet before he pulled in a deep breath and straightened. "I'm glad you're okay, anyway. It's been a really crazy couple of days." And the vacillation between the high of Arielle's birth and the low of basically everything after that had been extreme. He offered an almost-tentative lopsided smile.
"We'll work the rest out as we go. Which, uh, I guess I'm going to do. Are you heading back to the barracks?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I'm going to stop by the Alienage first. But I'll head there right after." He'd know by now that if he was welcome to come along, she'd have offered it to him. But this was definitely a conversation she needed to have alone, and she figured Cor wouldn't really want a part in it anyway.
"Thanks, by the way," she added. "For coming by. And I'm sorry if I scared you. I'm, uh... still trying to figure how to do all of this." If her history was anything to go off of, Lia had a tendency to be rash. But that was something she thought she had in common with Cor.
He relaxed a little more at that. "You and me both. I'll see you later, then." As good as his word, he pushed off the doorframe and departed without further fuss. She could hear him say something to Marisol downstairs, though not exactly what. Probably just a farewell or something. Then the door jangled again, and the shop went quiet.
She picked at her food a little more, some of her appetite returning now that the conversation was more or less salvaged. She was glad he didn't seem to have a problem with making the attempt to eliminate Leta for good, at least. Just the manner in which she'd done it. Lia didn't know if she could accept someone like Leta going back into a dungeon to rot. Somewhere she could still have power, somewhere she could get away again. No, she needed to end, and the Venatori needed to end with her. While she lived, some trace of Marcus still flittered in the air, and that was something Lia could not ignore. Could not allow.
She cleaned up after herself a little, though Marisol was quick to return and help. It was a little awkward, with Lia getting the sense that Marisol didn't really want her to hang around but absolutely not willing to say it. She could understand that. Lia and Cor had brought Vito some significant income recently, but it came at the cost of a lot of trouble, and some dangerous people knowing their names where they otherwise wouldn't have cared.
Lia bid Marisol farewell and took her leave before anyone else could show up to delay her. She'd have to thank Vito later. For now she headed towards the Alienage. Contrary to what she'd told Cor she didn't actually go inside, instead taking up a spot along a side street where it was relatively secluded and quiet, even during the daylight hours. She knew Arrin took it on his route, which at this time he'd probably be in the middle of. She just had to be patient.
It took a while for him to appear—carrying messages and deliveries was an irregular job, and where he was when often depended on who'd paid him to do what on a particular day. But after about an hour and a half of waiting, her patience bore fruit. Arrin approached from the west, tucking a bundle of parchment envelopes into a ratty, but well-patched, canvas bag slung over one shoulder. He did not initially seem to notice her, which was odd. He was far from as practiced an observer as she or even one of the other Lions, but he wasn't usually oblivious to his surroundings, either.
He finally picked up on her presence just before he would have passed her, head snapping up to blink blearily at her. Shaking himself slightly, he plastered on a smile. "Oh, uh... morning, Lia."
She wasn't surprised he'd be a little off from his normal self. No doubt he'd caught wind of some of the recent events from other Ashfingers. There had to be plenty of turmoil and doubt around with the organization essentially splitting in two. At least they weren't likely going to enter open conflict, since they did ultimately want similar things, even if they'd have very different ways of going about it. Attempted assassinations or no, Kess wasn't likely to want them all dead. Just the ones necessary to bring back the rest. Lia was hoping for something similar.
"Hey. Don't mind the look, I'm fine." Blood blended in pretty well with maroon, especially once it dried, but he'd probably notice when he got closer. "Just had an unfortunate run-in with some angry former members of a certain faction here." She glanced around one more time to make sure they had privacy before she patted the spot next to her on the bench she'd chosen. "I'm assuming you've heard some things recently?"
Arrin grimaced, but sat down without further prompting. "Yeah. It's been—it's been tense. Last couple days, the lines are really getting drawn. Word is Braven laid an ambush for Kestrel, but someone else sprung the trap." He looked pointedly at one of the patches of dried blood. "Guess you'd know more about than than me."
He expelled a breath and leaned back, raking a thin hand through his hair to pull it back away from his face. "Everything's starting to separate. Informants are choosing sides, and the ordinary members like me. No one's died yet that I know of, but there's a few places some people aren't all welcome anymore, you know? It's like they're dividing up the city for now." Probably with at least some intent of clashing once the lines were in place.
Lia hoped it wouldn't come to that. The last thing they needed was the elves killing each other over a disagreement. That said, the current predicament was not as bad as the thought of Braven winning the confrontation, and having the Ashfingers absorbed into his Vhenallin. That kind of power in his hands would do nothing good for anyone.
"Braven's in league with some Venatori remnants. Very dangerous people. Guess he sees them as a means to an end, but I doubt he really knows what he's getting into." Whatever sympathy an elf such as Leta had for her people had to be overshadowed by her hate of other things. Clearly she didn't care if elves died to help her get what she wanted. She met eyes with Arrin. "I'm going to take care of this, but I can't do it on my own. Information is what I need most right now, and I don't have a lot of ways to get it. You, on the other hand..." She shrugged lightly, though her tone was quite serious. "I'm not asking you to get mixed up with Vhenallin, but if you can put yourself in the right place at the right time, and you hear something I can use... we can't let this get worse, you know?"
Arrin hunched his shoulders, features pinching, almost like a drawn-out wince. "I dunno, Lia. I was thinking about trying to... kind of sit between the two, see what I could see, all that. But—Braven doesn't mess around. Neither does Kestrel, come to think of it. I'm not sure how well I'll do, you know? If someone catches me—I can talk my way out of a lot of things, but I'm not sure that's one of them."
She wasn't fond of doing this. Like many city elves, Arrin didn't have the most confidence. She was much the same once, as there simply wasn't any reason for it. No reason to believe things would turn out okay. But unlike Arrin Lia had seen that they could turn out okay, and consistently too. It was just a matter of effort and skill. She knew Arrin had the latter, more than he gave himself credit for. But sometimes the former had to be forced before it would roll on its own.
"There are a lot of people in your position right now, though. Caught between the two, and forced to choose. Both of them have to know that, and they have to respect it. If they pull too hard, they're going to lose. And I know you can do this. Start with whatever you're comfortable with, and go from there. Anything helps." And if the time came where he absolutely had to pick a side, he could always fall in with Kestrel. Whatever their disagreements, she was absolutely the lesser of the evils here.
He pressed his lips together, but slowly nodded. "Okay. I—yeah. All right. I'll give it a shot." Shifting, he stood, brushing down his trousers and curling his mouth in a small smile. "We've all got to do our parts, right? Between you and my mom, I guess I'm convinced." No doubt Riris wouldn't especially approve of this, but like the rest of them, she had to work with what she had. Arrin had often expressed a desire to help her, even if he did it in ways she would never have asked him to.
"I guess I'll keep you updated, then. Take care of yourself, Lia."
"You too. I'll check in every few days for now."
She expelled a breath that had been pent up in her when he was gone, and she was alone again. She hadn't really been aware of it. She waited another few minutes before she started back for the barracks. The work was done for the moment, but somehow Lia felt she wouldn't really be able to relax for a long time yet.