I haven’t even slept overnight before Haxl comes to me. My hands have only known my own pockets since entering the Lord Saenger’s service – and I intended for that to remain the case – but when she explains her story, my heart tugs with a camaraderie it hasn’t since my life in the Rimeland. She doesn’t ask for anything not rightfully hers, wrongfully taken from her, and I find her request difficult to refuse.

I wait until after convocation and out from under the eyes of the Gothics’ Lion God to pinch her necklace from the guardsman. Can someone do a wrong thing for a right reason?

We end up sitting and simply talking together for a moment under the smokey, fire-mage moon. An ominous omen, but beautiful when filtered through the black pines and shared with a fellow. I’ll admit to a touch of pride at her surprise to discover I’d slipped the trinket into her pocket in passing.

She assures me she’ll be alright without the coins she offers in return. “We have to look out for each other,” she says. I trust my lord to take care of my needs and yet… I hope our paths cross again.