These coming days leading to the most important moment of their lives were spent, for the most part, in quiet contentment. They never brought the matter up vocally, but the trio had just quietly agreed- perhaps through the great understanding forged between them over the time spent together- that they should try and finish up any undone business, and to enjoy things they hadn’t before, when they still had the chance to indulge in it in each other’s company.

  Much of it was small and mundane. They went out to get food at the street vendors that they hadn’t tried before; Aymanah especially seemed to love these pastries that almost burst with cream when you bit into them, and Maia got to eat more meat then what she’d been able to enjoy through her whole life just off of one skewer that’d been fried in a kiln through some method she didn’t quite understand. Or they went out for walks to see the whole city.

  During these walks, they had some pces to visit. Aymanah wished to visit Academia Verdant for one reason or another, and they indulged her; the visit was quite educational, and Maia learned much of the culture of the world that she’d been ignorant to… No, that was too great a cim. Rather, she learned of the *existence* of so much culture and science that she’d never even thought of in her small hovel. The world was rge and diverse.

  Another day, Homer took them to the colosseum; this arena had been one of their earliest hopes for gaining permission to attend the Rebirth, even if they’d quickly accepted that they were far too te to arrive to compete. Homer would’ve had to cut a bloody swathe through the crowds of competitors to earn such respect…

  And as Maia sat on one of the arena benches, the booming sound of the crowds echoing in her ears as she watched men and women tear each other apart for their adoration, she was rather gd that they hadn’t had to take such a bloody way to their goal. Not that she could judge too much, they had all volunteered, but…

  She gives a side gnce to Homer, the usually gentle old man, and she can *see* the burning in his veins. This sort of thing wouldn’t be good for him. She can see the way his blood runs hot, even if his expression during the fights is ‘merely’ as eted as the grand majority’s.

  Maia herself had no pce in the city she wanted to take the others to. It was a little awkward; even Aymanah had found Academia Verdant a pce of interest, but here Maia was, trying to ponder where she could even go… Maybe just the markets? But there was little point in shopping for comfort with their little group, considering the natural end goal and result of their objectives. Visiting Theodora could do, but she knew that Callistis had decided to stay at her manor until the ceremony, which meant that sibling bickering filled the halls.

  So, when her little day came- they hadn’t even really *agreed* on hosting such group outing days, it just happened naturally- she had said that maybe they should all spend a day to themselves instead;

  “We’ve traveled together for a long time now, and we’ve spent most of that time together. um… Maybe we should take the chance to be by ourselves for a change?”

  It was a poor excuse, she knew, and one could argue they’d all be *alone* before long, but it seemed to still nd with her companions. Homer said he wanted to go and meet with some old military friends over at the barracks district, and Aymanah flew off to the Academia the moment Maia had id out her suggestion; it seems to her that Aymanah had found a pce to stay at after their journey was finished, which brought her much relief.

  As for what Maia herself did? As pinly as it could be put, with all things in consideration… She slept like a wet log chained to the bottom of a ke, held down by the foot of a giant. She’d had chances for such deep sleep before, of course, and she had been conked out like a light back when they’d killed the boar… But this was a different matter entirely. This was a sweet sleep of her own choice, not spurred on by anything but the desire to rest.

  It was te afternoon by the time she finally woke up and pulled on her simple hempen garments, almost falling down the stairs as she headed down in a haze. Grisilde was tending to the bar of the Gallivanting Galnt, waving her over for a free drink for the day. Just water; Maia had decided to swear off of the good stuff for a bit after the drinking incident with Life’s entourage.

  “Homer and Aymanah aren’t back yet?”Her mumbling voice elicits a little ugh from the dwarf, who just shakes her head.“No, no. Won’t be back till it’s dark, both said. Homer took a whole barrel of the good stuff with him to share with his old friends, and Aymanah’s going to attend a whole lecture day with that half-harpy professor over at the Academia, so they’ll only be back once that’s done…”

  Grisilde shrugs and gets back to scrubbing the countertops. There were a few other patrons about, although no-one paid much attention to Maia. Everyone had grown used to her pallid appearance and didn’t question it. The Gallivanting Galnt was home to many drifters and those of odd persuasions, as Homer had expined to her, and Grisilde made sure people didn’t poke their noses into each other’s business unprompted.

  The one d who had tried- a sweet seeming young man, really- to talk her up and ask a few too many questions a day before had gotten such a steely look from the inn’s host that he’d ran over to the other end of the big hall to avoid it.

  Today would have a repeat, although in a different way entirely. The inn door creaks. Maia doesn’t pay attention to the newcomer at first, down in her water cup- it’s only when they come to the counter that she actually looks up. A middle aged human woman, quite wide, quite tall, she can tell most of it’s fat, although there’s a certain muscur quality to her arms. Maybe a warrior who’d settled down? Not her business.

  “Here again for the usual, Bertha?”

  “N-No, not this time, I, um…”she sounds surprisingly nervous for a woman of her size. Maia’s trying to practice what’s been preached to her; lock her ears, stop listening.“I know you don’t like people asking questions like this, Grisilde, but please. Has Homer been here? I heard he’s been seen around the city by some old friends.”

  Sad to say that this was the one sentence to reach her ears right before she could tune everything out. And she wasn’t even wearing her hood to hide her expression, which was definitely quite telling; she could just *feel* the cold sweat on her forehead and the back of her neck. See, Maia was a little clueless sometimes, a little naive.

  Big woman around the same age looking for Homer in the city that Homer had left, explicitly mentioning his family as a wife and son he left behind- she still vividly recalls the conversation him and Aymanah had, even if she hadn’t partaken in it much directly- oh gods, this is awkward. This is so awkward. If she shows any sign of weakness-.

  “Aaaah…” Grisilde scratches the back of her neck. At least Maia isn’t the only person here who feels awkward. “You know my policy. I’m not at liberty to say who’s staying or visiting the Gallivating Galnt unless you’re a city official asking with about three different forms…”

  Bertha, as the taller woman’s name was, folds her arms. She doesn’t seem angry, but Maia can tell there’s a bubbling annoyance; such a non-answer is its own direct reinforcement.

  “I’ve had to tolerate the occasional ‘sighting’ by my friends for years, but over the st few days I’ve had over ten people come and mention seeing my wayward husband in the city. And if he’s not coming home, he’s coming to stay here. I can just linger here and wait.”

  Ggguuuh.hhhuuuh.bbwwwuuuuh.

  “I, um…”Maia clears her throat and peeps like a mouse, trying to ignore Grisilde’s eyes nailed on her.“... Might know some things about the matter…”

  She had no idea that speaking those words would end up with her and Bertha sitting at a corner table, opposite of each other- and her tankard of water had been swapped with a tankard of ale that Bertha ordered for her. The rge woman was kind, she could tell, but she felt a little entrapped. Both physically and metaphorically.

  And also, by that burning gaze of… Something. Desperation? She wasn’t sure. Homer did not talk about his wife or son in very descriptive ways, and she had no clue what to pce in those eyes. Desire for resolution? Revenge? Want to get him back?

  And just how much should she tell?

  In the end, the conversation took hours. Maia told her most of what had happened; of her encounter with Homer way back in her home forest, their travels as a duo until they encountered the harpies and gained Aymanah as a companion, their struggles against the boar and her brush with true death, their arrival to the city, their visit to the realm of the gods, and their return and decision to wait-

  and why he was here.

  And in turn Bertha told her about Homer in his youth, the valiant sergeant who fought for himself and his men in equal part, the War-born hulk who inspired those around him- and of the man who had returned after the civil war, the angry man who was clearly lost without the field of battle to guide his every word and action, without a general to follow, without a man to kill. She’d been a part of his unit, and they’d raised their son together-

  but Homer was so clearly unhappy. They fought often in the st years they’d spent together. Never physically, always verbally, and their son was a reedy thing, more schorly than smart, seemingly finally free from the boiling blood that cursed his father. Reinhardt was his name. And Homer was both happy for him, and so, so jealous.

  A son who would never feel that need for blood. A son who could lift a book and not a bde.

  One morning, he was gone. He’d never left any expnation. Bertha could hazard guesses, of course: maybe he meant to try and find another war to fight in. Maybe he left because he was afraid he’d finally strike her or their son. Or maybe he just left to go kill himself in some ditch to end the constant anguish.

  Maia, eventually- decided that she should-

  . . .

  The door to the Gallivanting Galnt creaks as Homer crouches and stumbles in with a loud yawn.“Hoooah. I’m home…”

  “Welcome home,” Maia chimes from the counter, waving a hand. Aymanah hadn’t returned yet.“Did everything go well with your friends?”

  “Ahhyup…” Homer mutters, dragging in the now empty barrel with him and gently pcing it down next to the counter, chucking a coin pouch to Grisilde. “From everyone as thanks.”

  “Mmmhm.”Grisilde’s been quiet ever since Maia and Bertha had their talk- clearly disapproving- but she promised to not say anything to Homer. Maia did have to beg on all fours while pressing her forehead to the floor, though.

  “You should probably go to bed and sleep off the alcohol, Homer.” Maia chimes, patting him on the arm.

  “Mmrhm, yeah…” the older man yawns and scratches his behind, giving Maia a zy smile. “Did anything happen while I was gone?”

  Maia smiles, csps her hands together, and,

  “No, nothing happened.”