The days in Riverdel were spent training villagers and lifting and moving heavy things.

  They fixed the fishing platform in record time thanks to Arellian’s and her grandfather’s ability to single-handedly carry logs and push them into place with the same ease that a child pushes a stick into muddy ground.

  The only interruption had been an attack by a crocodile-iguana.

  With her poleaxe returned to her, Arellian bopped it on its scale-armored head, cracking its skull.

  The villagers rejoiced at the free half ton of meat, bones and scaly skin.

  One of the cooks even turned a few pounds of the white-ish raw flesh into jerky with an impromptu fire, smoke and Skills before they had gotten through butchering a quarter of the huge beast.

  She had to admit it tasted pretty good with the secret blend of forest spices.

  Her and her grandfather even helped start the tanning process for the huge hide, which mainly involved them stretching it out.

  Once again, she thanked her armor for keeping the gross smell out.

  There was another tree chopping competition, which she lost.

  Her grandfather had to show off as he sauntered from tree to tree and pushed them over like a child pushes over a shaky tower of toy blocks.

  “Cheater!” she thrust her finger at him imperiously. “You didn’t use an axe!”

  “No one said anything about an axe!” he replied cheerfully. “Dost thou be a sore loserth? Forsooth! Losereth doth carryeth yon logs backeth to the villageth!”

  “Peh,” she spat. “You’re not even trying anymore.”

  “I read Hamlet on my first walk from the spire to the witch’s hut. I can admit to half-butting my medieval times role. I’m simply not a method actor or any kind of actor for that matter.” He shrugged. “See you later.” He continued to walk the tree-line, shoving trees over.

  One day, Arellian found herself seated behind a rickety wooden table outside the brewery.

  How had she come to be manning the medieval times version of what her grandfather had called a ‘help desk’?

  Oh, right… that’s how… her grandfather had volunteered her witchknight’s wisdom to settle small matters of dispute.

  “You see, your honor, your Dameness—”

  She raised her hand, forestalling the grandmotherly woman.

  “I prefer Minokawa, but Dame Minokawa is okay if you prefer.”

  “Yes, of course, your ladyship, er… your Dame Minokawa.” The old woman adjust her broad-brimmed hat to keep the sun out of her eyes and tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear. “You see, that thief, Rufusonir, won’t give back my axe. It’s been in my family since my grandfather’s days—”

  “Now, hold on there, Yvelannen!” A young man waved his hand from farther down the line. “Don’t spread lies to the honorable Dame witchknight!”

  Arellian wanted to slam her beaked helmet into the wood, but that was not the actions of a mature person, so she merely steepled her fingers maturely.

  “Please wait your turn, Rufusonir.”

  Yvelannen told her story.

  Sounded pretty standard to Arellian.

  She lent the axe and Rufusonir was being a bad neighbor about returning it.

  Which was why she was surprised that the headman hadn’t settled it already.

  She smiled at one of the rare olden people in the village.

  “Please go inside and enjoy! I’ll speak to Rufusonir and we’ll settle this.”

  Yvelannen leaned forward to whisper.

  “Don’t trust him, Dame witchknight. He’s the serpent’s tongue, that one.”

  She smiled and nodded, waiting for the olden villager to enter the brewery before beckoning Rufusonir to the front of the line.

  “Well, what’s your side of the story.”

  The young man grinned sheepishly.

  “Begging forgiveness, Dame Minokawa, and I don’t like to talk badly about our elders. They’ve done a lot to make it through this far and a lot to help the rest of us make it through. Yvelannen took care of many orphans, me included, before her memory started failing.”

  “I see.” She tapped the truth gem on the table. “Do you consent to be tested under this spell?”

  “I do.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “Not much to tell. I did borrow her axe once, but I returned it as soon as I was done. And that was the last I saw it. Last anyone saw it. You can ask her neighbors and the headman. They searched both mine and her house and found nothing. And, I know, it’s important to her, but it’s just an axe to me. There’s plenty in the village stores. Honestly, I should’ve just done that walk instead. At least, it would’ve saved her the heartache and worry.”

  The truth gem light up and stayed that way.

  It was a higher quality kind.

  One that didn’t require basic yes or no questions.

  “Very well, thank you for being truthful. Please return to your place in line.” She put in a call to her grandfather so that no else could listen.

  “Hello, my precious! How’s the customer service help desk treating you?” he chuckled evilly.

  “It’s great!” she lied maturely. “I’m helping! For example, there is a Miss Yvelannen, I’m sending you a picture, she has memory issues.”

  “Got it! I’ll check with Headman Dinor for permission. Then, I’ll get her started with a scan then go from there.”

  “Thanks, Grandfather. Minokawa out.”

  “Keep up the good work! For shareholder value!”

  Sometimes she had no idea what the words coming out of his mouth meant.

  Nonetheless, she did feel satisfaction at the possibility that Miss Yvelannen might be helped.

  Neither she, nor her grandfather were doctors or medical professionals.

  They had equipment for that and they could always send spires messages to the actual professionals.

  Fortunately, magic and magitech could bridge that knowledge and expertise gap safely.

  She regarded the growing line with a sigh.

  Just like that, the good feelings slipped through her fingers like sand on the shore.

  She couldn’t help but feel jealous at the sounds of laughter and music coming from the brewery.

  With all the work they’d been getting done, the headman had called for a day of rest and celebration.

  Crocodile-iguana meat cooked in a variety of ways and plentiful drink courtesy of Brewmaster and her apprentices.

  The next person was a child.

  The girl saw eye to eye with Arellian even though she sat in a chair.

  From what she had learned that meant that the girl was probably around her age.

  “Dame witchknight, I, Tavannen, pledge my service. I wish to be your squire.”

  The girl dropped to one knee and bowed her head.

  Uh oh…

  Arellian was saved by a frantic woman running down the narrow wooden street waving her arms and shouting.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Ah, Tavannen, your mother approaches.”

  “She is too late. It is done. My pledge has been made.”

  “Unfortunately, you are too young. However, I shall give your name to the Witch of the Woods. Continue to grow strong and wise in mind, body and soul and one day you may sit where I sit now.”

  The girl’s mother skidded to a halt in front of the table and, bowing hasty apologies, dragged Tavannen away.

  “Mother! No! You stand in the way of my destiny!”

  Arellian made a note for the girl to be watched.

  Destiny types tended to be reckless and the last thing any of them wanted was for her to seek out adventure on her own, unready and unprepared.

  “Next, please.”

  A young woman with dark blue hair shaved bald on the left side of her head and windswept long everywhere else stepped forward smartly and produced an instrument with a tiny body like a banjo, but a long and wide neck like a guitar.

  Her face was painted with different colors to create an aggressive demon-like mask and her clothing, unlike the most of the other villagers was dyed just as aggressively.

  “My name is Lennonar, aspiring bard, currently a novice! I have composed a song about your epic clash with excrement monster! I hope it pleases your ears and inflames your heart!”

  …

  Arellian found herself standing on the rebuilt fishing platform with several villagers ranging from her age to young adults.

  As Witchknight Minokawa, she was there as extra protection.

  The villagers fished and spoke candidly without much of the reserve they used to display around her.

  The two weeks spent helping Riverdel had helped make them more comfortable.

  “Pardon, what did you just say?”

  She had heard something that sounded bad from one of the younger teens.

  A girl a head shorter than her.

  “Oh, um, Dame Minokawa, apologies.” The girl bowed and curtseyed.

  “No— thats— don’t apologize.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “What were you saying about Blade Point?”

  The next village over was approximately 30 kilometers, as her grandfather flew, up the river.

  There were a handful of empty settlements in between Riverdel and Blade Point, but they had long turned into spawn zones.

  Her and her grandfather planned to sort them out when they left to continue their journey.

  “It was nothing, I just, well…” The girl couldn’t meet the gaze of Arellian’s Minokawa helmet eyes. “I’m worried about maybe having to move there.”

  “Why?”

  Treblonnen, a fisherman and a village guard, cleared his throat.

  “If I may explain, Dame Minokawa.”

  The man’s blue hair was cropped close to his scalp, which made an interesting color as the sun glinted off it.

  He spoke clearly and concisely, a hold over from his pre-spires occupation as a merchant.

  “The monarch has recently decreed that all of child-bearing age are to, well, bear children. One every three years, until the age of 30 or they are no longer physically able. People, males and females are to be moved from their home settlements to others in order to avoid inbreeding.” He regarded the others. “There’s not a lot in Riverdel that aren’t related to one or another.”

  “Yeah! We’re all basically cousins!” One of the younger men said.

  “It’s part of the reason that we haven’t had a lot of new children.” Treblonnen continued. “And the more obvious reason that most of us don’t want to bring new lives into this terrible existence. What are our children for? Food for monsters? Fodder for the monarch’s purpose?” He shrugged wiry shoulders. “Regardless, we have until the spring season to comply. It’s easy for now to use the dangers of the forest roads and even the river to avoid sending our young people away. There isn’t much contact with Blade Point and the others, but I imagine and hope that they’re of the same mind. However, we can’t do that forever. The monarch will send his soldiers sooner rather than later.”

  “They can’t make you have babies if you don’t want,” she said. “They just can’t!”

  Treblonnen shrugged.

  “Headman Dinor agrees, but we lack the strength to resist. And it’s not just those issues. Even sending our young men and women to other villages as husbands or wives is fraught with dangers for them. The headman spoke of the potential for exploitation and abuse for our young when they’re taken away and isolated from the rest of us.”

  “Well… don’t send anyone away.” She looked at the worried faces. “We won’t let them take you against your will.”

  As their expressions grew brighter, daring to hope, she felt her stomach twist.

  She had spoken without thinking first and a witch kept her word.

  …

  “Grandfather?”

  “Yes, my precious sunbird?”

  “Be serious!”

  “Haha! Okay, sorry, my preciousss.”

  “I mean it!”

  Arellian stomped her armored boot maturely, accidentally cracking the wooden floor of their guest house.

  Oh no!

  That was, like, one of the basic rules of being a good guest.

  Don’t break the host’s stuff!

  “Hmmm, don’t worry, we can fix it!” Her grandfather grinned.

  They had retracted their helmets while safe in privacy bolstered by magic and tech devices.

  “So, what’s got you brooding?” He ruffled her darker than black hair. “Going to miss your new friends?”

  “No!”

  Well… yes… but she’d never admit it.

  Not even to herself.

  “Let me guess? You’re feeling bad about the deception?”

  “Yeah… we’re lying to them and… it feels wrong, I guess.”

  “Eh. That’s normal. The Riverdelzords aren’t just blue-skinned aliens in a scouting report. They’re people now. Real people, not that different from us. There might be a few big cultural and biological differences, but they’ve got all the same number of parts and the whole emotions thing. So, yeah, it’s normal to feel bad about the deception. But, you know what, that’s good! It means you aren’t a sociopath. Empathy is one of the greatest virtues we can have and practice. Especially, for us with our great powers.”

  “Um, how do you not feel bad?”

  “Well, I can’t tell you what to do. I, personally, feel bad and I’m not trying not to feel bad. There’s a saying that I always liked and use to this day. It’s about just focusing on the things I can control and not worrying about the things I can’t. As an example germane to your youthful angst, I can’t change the need for deception at this time, therefore I accept it, acknowledge it and shelve it. What I’m focusing on is doing what I can to help these people and hopefully, set them up for a future in which I won’t be lying to them like a dirty lying liar.”

  She pouted maturely.

  Not that she wanted to.

  It came on its own.

  “What is your witchy sense telling you?”

  That was the problem.

  She didn’t know.

  Tears began to bubble up, then overflow.

  “Oh no!”

  Her grandfather scooped her up in a hug.

  “Do you want to go home early? There’s no shame in it. You’ve already done so much and I’m not saying for your age, because you’ve objectively done more in the two and a half weeks you’ve been here than the average according to all metrics. I know because I checked!”

  “No…”

  She sniffled snot onto his armored shoulder.

  “Okay. We’ll do whatever you want, my preciousss. Criessss, ssshe does, precioussss.”

  She laughed and sobbed.

  “That’s soooo weird… why are you oldens sooo weird all the time?”

  Her grandfather solemnly looked her in the eyes.

  “Don’t tell people, but I think I started going crazy after my 150th birthday.”

  Then his mouth split into a happy smile and laughter.

  “J.K., J.K.! I’m definitely not crazy! I’m simply too old to care about the youths, and anyone else really, thinking I’m weird or lame. In a way that makes me the coolest among you all!”

  “I don’t think that’s how that works, Grandfather. But, I guess you’re alright.”

  “Not many grandfathers out there without a wrinkly face, doughy muscles and gray hair. I’ll have you know, I still turn heads!”

  “Ewww! Ick! Peh!”

  “Remember when I picked you up from camp that one time and everyone thought I was your super hot dad?”

  She covered her ears.

  “Noooo!!!”

  She remembered all right.

  Her superhearing had started coming in around then and she had to listen to her camp counselors, women and men, talking about her ‘hot’ grandfather for the whole two weeks.

  “Complements are nice.” He shrugged. “You know what. I think you need a break.”

  “What?”

  “Before we go to Blade Point, you’ll go back to the hut. Spend a few days out of your armor and into some fluffy pajamas. Do bubble baths. Wash your hair properly… you’re into that now, right? Eat some junk snacks and proper Earthian food. I’m not slamming the crocoguana jerky and grilled steaks, but some actual beef sounds really good right now. Watch some shows. Finish that weird cartoon Vamria showed you.”

  “But, Grand Auntie’s training Riverdel people right now! What if they see me? You know, as me!”

  “They’re living in the scary witch part of the hut. You’ll be in the superscience underground part. Just wear Minokawa if you’re going to go up and about. It would be a good way to sell the act for them to see Minokawa in mysterious conversation with the Witch of the Woods.”

  “I guess…”

  “Then it’s settled, squire. I would have an oath from you.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Fine…”

  “Knight Bakunawa requests, nay, demands it!” Her grandfather clenched his fist. “Thou shalt have no less than three days and three nights of relaxation and self-pampering care. Thou shalt also respond to yon spires messages lest ye mother, grandmother, great grandparents and everyone else sends me nagging and escalating in anger messages. Wilt thou recite thine oath?”

  Arellian did, though she struggled to keep the smile off her face.

  Though matured, she supposed sometimes it was okay to embrace her inner child.

  And it did seem to make her grandfather happy.

  She supposed that wasn’t a bad thing… in moderation.

  There was always tomorrow for her true inner darkness to seize her in its shadowy grasp.

  Well, not tomorrow, but in three days and nights.

  Witchknight Minokawa was on break.

  Arellian could be a twelve year old girl.