Summer waned. Her heart should've cooled by now... but his absence still burned since Aelric rode off toward the kingdom—his oath to return still echoing in Mei-Ling's mind like a cruel joke. No letters. No messengers. No word.
Life at the outpost marched forward as if nothing had changed. Soldiers trained, merchants haggled, and elves patrolled with their usual silent efficiency. The world spun on, indifferent to the hollow ache Mei-Ling carried. She had returned to her duties out of sheer stubbornness, forcing herself into the rhythm of daily tasks, masking the gnawing dread clawing at her chest.
Jingfei watched her with thinly veiled concern, arms crossed as she leaned against a post near the training grounds. Mei-Ling's movements were mechanical—precise, but empty.
"I swear," Jingfei muttered under her breath, turning her head toward Lorianthel, who stood nearby with his usual stoic calm. "He could've shown a shred more patience. A month. A whole damned month. And not even a raven."
Lorianthel let out a slow exhale, his violet eyes narrowing faintly. " Aelric was never good with love letters. Too many feelings, not enough ink", he replied, voice low with a trace of disappointment. "Duty blinds him. More than it should."
Jingfei scoffed. "Duty, my ass. Would it kill him to send word? Mei-Ling's trying to act like she's fine, but we both see it."
Before Lorianthel could reply, a sharp commotion erupted at the front gates. Raised voices. The clang of metal. The sound was out of place—wrong, somehow.
"What now?" Jingfei snapped, spinning on her heel.
A guard sprinted across the courtyard, his face flushed. "Captain! Trespassers at the east gate. Three of them. Refused to identify themselves."
Lorianthel's expression darkened. "Bring them."
Moments later, three scruffy figures were dragged into the courtyard, wrists bound tightly. One—a squat, wide-shouldered man—tried to puff up like a rooster, only for a guard to shove him back down into the dirt. He landed with a solid thump, cursing loudly.
"You pointy-eared sons of—"
"Enough," Lorianthel snapped, his voice cold as ice.
The tallest of the trio—bleeding from the nose and looking more insulted than injured—bellowed, "We are recognized affiliates of the Monastery of Wizardry! There are laws against this kind of treatment!"
Jingfei snorted. "Monastery, huh? You three look like you crawled out of a gambling den, not a temple."
The familiarity of that voice made Mei-Ling's heart skip. She blinked, squinting toward the prisoners.
"... Feredis?" she called out, her voice unsure at first. "Fror? Gror?"
The three men's heads snapped toward her, and their scowls melted instantly.
"MEI-LING!" they roared in unison.
Ignoring protocol—and the guards' half-hearted attempts to block her—Mei-Ling rushed forward, skidding to a halt before the trio. "What in the hells are you three doing here?"
Feredis scowled and jerked his chin at the elves. "What we were doing was minding our own business until these leafy bastards jumped us. Grabbed us. Dragged us in like we're common thieves!"
"That... actually sounds plausible," Mei-Ling deadpanned. "Fror, was he bothering the squirrels again?"
Fror gave a deadpan nod. "Tried to hex one. Again."
"I did not!" Feredis snapped. "It startled me, is all!"
Jingfei stifled a laugh behind her hand. "Lorianthel, seriously, just let them go before Feredis throws out his back trying to look tough."
Lorianthel sighed as if the very presence of the trio drained his will to live. "Release them."
The guards hesitated. "Sir, they—"
"—Are friends of the lady," Lorianthel cut in. "Unbind them."
Feredis grinned wide, thrusting his hands out like a noble demanding service. "You heard him, gentlemen. Hop to it."
Once freed, the three tried—very poorly—to act dignified. That lasted until Gror let out a squeal and barreled into Mei-Ling, wrapping his stubby arms around her waist. Fror and Feredis followed, turning it into an awkward, messy group hug.
"Oi—Gror, let go. You're crushing her ribs," Fror huffed, prying his brother off.
"Nuh-uh. I missed her."
Mei-Ling laughed, the sound startling even herself. "I thought you idiots were off to the Monastery already."
Feredis rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "About that... minor setback."
Fror grinned. "Setback meaning he failed. Again."
"Not my fault they're obsessed with discipline and humility," Feredis grumbled.
Jingfei snorted. "So... the exact things you don't have."
Feredis shot her a withering look. "You're a ray of sunshine. And you might be...?"
Mei-Ling shook her head, the grin pulling at her lips unavoidable. "Come on, you lot. Let's get you cleaned up before someone mistakes you for beggars."
"Food?" Gror piped up hopefully.
"Food," Mei-Ling confirmed. "And ale. I need something strong."
Feredis whooped, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Now that's the reunion we deserved."
As they walked off toward the mess hall, Jingfei muttered to Lorianthel, "At least someone showed up when she needed them."
Lorianthel's lips twitched, almost—almost—a smile. "Perhaps... not all men abandon their promises."
And for the first time in a month, the heavy air around Mei-Ling seemed just a little lighter.
****
The scent of roasted meat and spiced broth drifted through the air as they gathered around the dinner table, the flickering lantern light casting golden hues over weathered faces. Feredis, Fror, and Gror wasted no time—faces buried in bowls, devouring Jingfei's cooking like half-starved wolves.
"Mmmph—this is divine," Fror mumbled through a mouthful of stew. "Jingfei, are you sure you're not secretly married? 'Cause anyone who lands you is marrying into full stomachs."
Feredis let out a thunderous belch, slapping his chest like a conquering hero. "Compliment, by the way. Means you're officially better than my mother's cooking—and she once burned soup."
Gror, cheeks stuffed, gave an eager nod. "S'true," he mumbled, spraying crumbs.
Jingfei snorted and whipped a rag at Gror's face. "Try swallowing before you talk, you damn hamster."
Across the table, Lorianthel reclined lazily, legs propped up, swirling his wine with a smirk. "Surprising how fast you all remembered your manners around actual food."
Feredis grinned. "Manners? Nah. We're just eating fast before the elf changes his mind."
Lorianthel chuckled. "Tempting."
As the group dug in, laughter and clanking spoons filling the air, Feredis leaned back with a mischievous grin. "Speaking of changing subjects... you know where we're headed next?"
Fror grinned. "Let me guess—someplace that smells like poor decisions?"
"Zlatnomirheim," Feredis declared. "City of gold... and guaranteed regrets."
Fror gave a low whistle. "Fancy."
Feredis waggled his eyebrows. "Word is... the King's dead. Funeral's coming, then the new one gets crowned—some poor sod named Carnation or something equally floral. After that? A grand wedding. Nobles everywhere. Gold. Ale. And bored, lonely noblewomen just waiting to make terrible choices."
He winked. "Our kind of party."
Lorianthel choked on his wine, coughing into his sleeve. "Gods save us," he muttered.
Jingfei made a face. "You'd hit on a grieving widow if there was ale involved."
"Only if she had nice jewelry," Feredis shot back without missing a beat.
Mei-Ling forced a weak smile. "Who's getting married?"
Feredis shrugged. "Uh... right... lemme think... Lady Aurelia Zvonimir'dóttir and... what's-his-face... Prince Aelric Aerandorson."
Silence crashed over the table.
Jingfei's jaw dropped. Mei-Ling's face went pale, her hands trembling around her cup.
"...Come again?" Jingfei's voice was a low growl.
Feredis blinked. "What? It's just what we heard. Royal weddings, all arranged stuff. You know how they are—swap bloodlines like trading goats."
Lorianthel, sensing imminent doom, tried to lean back out of sight.
Bad move.
Jingfei caught the movement, lunged, and yanked him back by the ear. "Oh, no. No. Not this time pretty boy."
"Ow—ow—by the gods—" Lorianthel winced as she twisted hard.
Jingfei planted a boot on the table, leaning in until they were nose to nose. "Start talking."
Sweat trickled down Lorianthel's temple. He looked at Mei-Ling, then the others—no help coming. With a groan, he downed his cup and muttered, "Fine."
"The Aezaric—Aelric's grandfather—he's dying. Dragged Aelric back for the funeral... but that wasn't all. The old bastard demanded Aelric marry Aurelia. Keep the bloodline 'pure.'"
Mei-Ling's breath hitched.
Lorianthel kept going, grim now. "Aelric refused. Told him he'd come back here after the funeral. The Aezaric... lost it. Accused you," he looked at Mei-Ling, "of being the reason. Ordered your death."
"What?!" Jingfei's shout echoed.
"Aelric stopped it," Lorianthel said quickly. "Barely. But the Aezaric made it clear—Aelric refuses, he hunts Mei-Ling down. You. Me. Everyone he cares about. Wipe us out."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Jingfei slammed her fist on the table so hard the bowls jumped. "Damn that rotten old corpse of a king!"
Mei-Ling sat frozen, eyes wide, lips trembling. The silence stretched—until she abruptly stood, chair scraping back.
"Excuse me."
"Mei—" Jingfei called, but she was already gone, heading toward the courtyard towards the pond.
Feredis stared at his empty bowl, Fror fidgeted, and even Gror sat quiet.
Lorianthel slumped, rubbing his face. "I should've told her sooner."
Jingfei shot him a glare sharp enough to kill. "Yeah. You should've."
She stood, grabbing a half-empty jug of ale. "I'm going after her. If any of you move, I swear to the gods, you'll wish the Aezaric got you first."
With that, she stormed off.
The table sat in uneasy silence.
Fror coughed awkwardly. "Sooo... is it too soon to ask if there's any stew left?"
Lorianthel groaned. "Both too soon and the wrong question."
****
Jingfei found Mei-Ling standing at the edge of the pond, her gaze lost in the still waters reflecting the waning light. The air was thick with unspoken emotions. Letting out a loud, theatrical sigh, Jingfei sauntered over, arms crossed so tightly it looked like she was about to strangle herself.
"Men," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Can't live with them... can't drown them without someone asking awkward questions."
She side-eyed Mei-Ling, hoping to coax even the faintest smirk. Mei-Ling remained statuesque, her eyes unwavering from the water, unreadable.
"Too soon?" Jingfei muttered, awkwardly scratching her cheek. "Yeah... probably too soon."
Silence stretched. Jingfei sighed again, louder this time, for dramatic effect. "Y'know, if you ever do want to drown someone, I've got a list. Could be a bonding thing."
Out of nowhere, Mei-Ling straightened, a sudden fire sparking in her eyes. "I'm going to Zlatnomirheim."
Jingfei blinked, caught off guard. "Zlatnomirheim? What for? You planning to... stop the wedding?" Her voice cracked halfway, half in disbelief, half hoping she heard wrong.
Mei-Ling nodded once, eyes sharp and full of resolve. "Yes."
Jingfei's mouth flapped uselessly for a moment. "You mean—the wedding? With Aelric? The 'I'll-impale-you-for-breathing' guy? That one?"
Mei-Ling didn't waver. "That one."
"For crying out loud, Mei... that's a terrible idea. What if the king kills you? Actually, scratch that—what if you kill him? We're going to need a Litigation master... and a necromancer."
Mei-Ling spun on her heel, determination radiating off her like heat. "I'd rather die for love than live without it."
Jingfei gawked. "Love? Since when do you do love speeches? This is dangerous Mei-Ling, not a bard's tragic ballad!" Still, she couldn't help but admire the steel in her friend's voice. "Damn, that was dramatic."
Mei-Ling was already stomping toward the quartiers, leaving Jingfei scrambling to catch up.
****
By the time they reached the courtyard, Lorianthel, Feredis, Fror, and Gror were mid-laugh, ale sloshing from wooden cups. Mei-Ling brushed past them like a storm. Jingfei stumbled behind.
"Oi!" Lorianthel called, raising an eyebrow. "Where's the fire?"
"We're stopping a wedding!" Jingfei blurted, already regretting the words.
Lorianthel choked on his drink, wheezing. "What?"
Feredis and Gror exchanged a glance. "Did she say wedding or waging war?" Gror asked.
"Same thing, if Mei-Ling's involved," Feredis deadpanned.
Fror shrugged and went back to gnawing on a drumstick, mumbling around the meat, "Marriage is war..."
Gror grabbed Fror by the collar, yanking him to his feet. "C'mon, you fat lump. Adventure calls."
Fror groaned, eyeing his unfinished meal with betrayal. "Can I bring the chicken?"
****
In Mei-Ling's chambers, chaos reigned. Mei-Ling flung clothes and gear into a satchel with ruthless efficiency while Jingfei tried to help, mostly getting in the way.
Moments later, the boys barged in—all at once. The doorway wasn't big enough for four eager men. Arms and legs flailed.
"Back off! I'm going first!" Gror bellowed.
"Get your tusk out of my face!" Lorianthel snapped.
Feredis hissed, "By the gods, we look like a tavern brawl at a tailor's."
Eventually, they squeezed through, slightly breathless and thoroughly irritated.
Lorianthel was the first to speak, smoothing his rumpled sleeves. "Mei-Ling, this is madness. Let me send men with you."
"We'll go," Feredis added, puffing his chest. "More fun than guard duty."
Gror grinned. "I'll make sure no one stabs you, 'cept maybe me if you snore."
Fror raised a chicken leg. "I come for moral support... and because you dragged me."
Jingfei smiled, touched despite herself. "You're all idiots. Brave, wonderful idiots."
****
Later, at the gate, the air grew heavy with farewells. Jingfei handed over a satchel of food, forcing a grin. "There's enough here to last you three days... or one, if Fror's eating."
Fror sniffed. "One chicken leg, one man. It's science."
Mei-Ling embraced Jingfei tightly. "Take care of Lorianthel... and Gui."
Jingfei sniffed back tears, nudging Lorianthel. "Please. This place would burn down in two days without me. And you—don't die."
Mei-Ling laughed softly. "Deal."
Turning to Lorianthel, Mei-Ling smiled wryly. "Keep an eye on Jingfei. She's trouble."
Lorianthel winked. "She's my kind of trouble."
Jingfei elbowed him. "Touch me again and you're the one needing rescuing."
Finally, Mei-Ling knelt before Gui. "You stay, boy. Guard them. Especially her," she whispered, nodding toward Jingfei.
Gui whined but licked Mei-Ling's hand, pressing close in farewell.
As Mei-Ling's group left, Jingfei leaned on Lorianthel's shoulder, whispering, "If she pulls this off, I'm buying her a whole damn tavern."
Lorianthel chuckled. "If she doesn't, we're burning one down in her honor."
They watched until the group disappeared into the horizon—hearts full, bonds unspoken but stronger than ever.