Unraveling the Truth

To say the last couple weeks had been rough was an understatement. Typically, Saffron was rather good at brushing off things that bothered her, or at least bottling them up and ignoring them, pretending they didn’t bother her. It wasn’t quite so easy this time around. Talking to Vandrad, Mercury, Themmy, and Cyrene had helped her at least feel like she didn’t need to cower away in a dark hole for the rest of her life. She still felt a lot more low energy than she usually did, and her mind kept drifting back to Xavier, wondering where the hell he was. He still had not reached out to her. At this point, she assumed he wasn’t going to. He hadn’t reached out to Emma and Nik either, at least not that they told her.

She’d wound up returning to Fairy Tail after the visit to New Rhaegar. Saffron was sure that Cedric would have happily let her stay at his place a few more days, but she didn’t want to keep imposing on him. It was time for her to stop moping and at least try to get back to her life. Unfortunately, with Vandrad and Themmy focused on trying to get the island established as its own nation, the former prince didn’t have a whole lot of time for training. Saffron did some workouts on her own for a day or two, doing her best to distract herself with jobs, before she decided that she needed something more engaging to do if she wanted to keep herself sane. So, after a bit of searching around, she’d found something that caught her eye: wrestling classes.

It was exactly what she needed. The classes were small and focused on the basics of wrestling moves and etiquette, learning how to maneuver in a ring, and testing levels of pain tolerance. It was a hell of a workout, one that did wonders for boosting her confidence again and helping her forget her heartache. Plus the trainers and other students were both friendly and complete strangers that knew nothing about her or her life. She was able to just focus on the work and being herself without constant reminders of what she’d been struggling with.

About two weeks after Xavier’s disappearance, Saffron received a job request at Fairy Tail that had caused her some suspicion. She sat on it for a day or so trying to decide what to do with it. The blonde had half a mind to disregard it entirely, to throw it away and carry on with her life, but her curiosity continued to get the better of her. Finally, she gave Cedric a call. “Hey, you got anything lined up for the next couple days?” she asked. “I received a job request that I was specifically requested for, but the client is out in Iceberg.”

That information alone was concerning and confusing on a number of levels. Firstly, Saffron didn’t know anyone in Iceberg. She’d never even been there, so she had no idea how she had wound up on someone’s radar out there. Secondly, given the war, these people went through a lot of trouble and probably a lot of underground channels to get the request to her, not to mention that they were going to have to cross closed borders to get there. “The details are vague as fuck. Just says that there is a clan chief in the far north that is seeking assistance finding their children, but they don’t want to pass along any more information in a letter. They want to meet, and they’re offering assistance with smuggling me across the borders.”

“It’s hella fucking fishy, but it’s not exactly ticking any boxes for anything I recognize. At this point, I think the only way I’ll get any answers is to just go. But since I have no idea what’s going to be waiting for me out there, I’d like to have some back up, if you’re willing to travel to hell on earth with me for a couple days.” Saffron was notorious for hating cold weather, so Iceberg was far from her cup of tea – particularly with how far north they were going. It was a sketchy situation in unknown enemy territory, and while Saffron was confident in herself and her abilities, she wasn’t keen to walk into a potential trap of some kind without an ally to have her back.

There was a rather loud ruckus in the background when Cedric answered the phone, causing Saffron’s brows to furrow momentarily. Mostly she was just surprised, and somewhat amused, that he’d bothered to answer at all if he was at the tail end of a fight of some kind. Wherever he was, there was a full scale brawl happening around him. She snorted and smirked a little but otherwise carried on, knowing that if he was in any real danger he wouldn’t have picked up to begin with.

She explained the very few details that she had about the job and why she was looking to bring someone along with her. He argued that Sin was objectively more of a hellscape than Iceberg, though he understood that her personal idea of hell was anywhere cold. Saffron snorted again, even as she heard the distinct sound of glass breaking in the background nearby. He asked for an hour to wrap up what he was working on. “Sounds good. Don’t break a nail,” Saffron teased him.

The Fairy Tail mage passed the time getting ready. She checked in with the administrative team for the guild, letting them know she would be out of the country for a few days but that she was reachable by phone if needed. Likewise, Saffron reached out to Vandrad to let him know what was happening as well, explaining that Cedric would be going with her and that they’d update him about the odd situation once they figured out what was going on. After that, she reached out to her wrestling coach to let him know that she’d be missing a few classes as well. Once all of that was out of the way, she trudged back to her room and begrudgingly pulled out some winter clothing, including a dark set of pants, a black turtleneck top with a window on the chest, an orange scarf, and a yellow bomber jacket; though she would keep the jacket off until they were closer to the snowy tundras. She also elected to enable the cloaking on her arm that allowed it to look and feel like flesh; since she had no idea what she was walking into, she figured it was best to keep her cards close to the chest for now.

Around the time he said he would, Cedric showed up with a knock at her door, Saffron calling for him to come inside. He voiced some thoughts about how they were going to get there, assuming it would raise some red flags if they were just to pop over and teleport to the other nation, suggesting they play things quiet for now. If they kept low profiles, that may help them uncover some of the truth sooner, or at least give them an idea for what was in store. “Even if we did teleport, I don’t know exactly where we’re going, and I don’t know if any of the places you’re able to reach in Iceberg are nearby. At this point it’s easier to just take them up on the offer and see what we can find out along the way.”

When he asked about contacting them, she shook her head. “Nah, the posting just said that if I agreed to help there would be an escort team waiting for me at this address.” Saffron handed him the posting, at the bottom of which was an address toward the outskirts of Magnolia toward the east. “I looked it up, and I think there used to be a mining operation in the area that closed a number of years back. They were going to wait for a week after delivering the message and if I didn’t show up they’d assume I wasn’t interested.”

Presuming that Cedric would be able to get them to the address, or at least close enough to walk to it, since Saffron wasn’t keen on leaving her bike at some abandoned mine, they’d both head in that direction once everything was settled. Eventually, they’d find themselves approaching an old processing factory on the property. Outside the building, partially tucked behind a few large mounds of dirt, was a lacrivehicle. It had tinted windows but was otherwise unremarkable, if very clean. As they drew closer, a nearby door to the building opened up and a man stepped out. He had long brunette hair that was braided back and away from his face, and thick but neatly kept facial hair. He was dressed in non-descript clothes that would fit with the more civilized world, rather than the thick wool and furs that were more stereotypical of Iceberg.

The man regarded them both with steely blue eyes, his hard gaze alert but otherwise unreadable as he looked first to Saffron, then to Cedric in consideration, before back to the blonde. “Saffron Remington?” he asked. His voice was a lilting, almost melodic baritone, his thick accent giving his nationality away even if the rest of him was otherwise easy enough to blend in with the locals.

Saffron stopped with a reasonable distance between them, crossing her arms and studying him as much as he was them. “The one and only,” she replied. She tilted her head toward her companion. “This is my friend Cedric. I asked him to come with me, seeing as how your notice was a bit vague and cryptic. I trust that’s not a problem?” Her tone made it clear that Cedric not being allowed to join her would be a deal breaker for whatever this work was.

Thankfully, he didn’t hesitate to shake his head. “Et is no problem, miss. Yur friend is vellkum to come.” The man bowed his head to Saffron with a noticeable intent of respect. “I am Andrej Erikkson. I hav been tasked by de chief to escort yu safely to de village. Dere are two ot’ars inside vit me. Vee plan to take de nort’ern route tru Seven. De journey vill take a little less den two days. As long as vee don’t hit any snags, ve vill get tru Seven and stop for de night once vee are in Iserheim.”

He referred to Iceberg by the name that the natives of the country used to refer to it. The route itself made sense to Saffron. Seven was one of the few nations that had not closed its borders in light of the war between Pergrande and Bellum, so there was less risk of running into trouble that way than trying to get through Bosco. Then it was just a matter of getting into Iceberg itself, which she imagined would be fairly easy for them. While there had been no question in his tone, she noted that Andrej seemed to be looking at her expectantly, as though waiting for feedback or questions. “Oh, uh… yeah, that seems solid to me. It will be easier to maintain a low profile if we avoid Bosco, anyway; there’s a possibility I could be recognized by people there, and I get the feeling that will draw more attention than you’re looking for.”

Andrej nodded his understanding. “Very well. Is dere anyt’ing yu need to take care of before vee go?”

“Nope. We’re ready whenever you guys are.”

“I vill get de others. I am sure yu have kvestions. It vill be easier to answer dem once vee are in Iserheim, but de chief vould like to speak vit you personally and has commanded us to be discreet.” With that out of the way, Andrej led the way inside, advising the both of them that they could follow if they wished or wait for everyone outside. Either way, they were quickly introduced to his two other companions, Eydis and Havardr. The first was a woman with reddish-brown hair and the other another man with brown hair so dark it was almost black. Both wore their long hair in similar braids as Andrej and were presently garbed in more Fioren style clothing. They also were polite, if a bit formal, equally bowing their heads upon introduction but otherwise not saying much.

The Iser took time to gather up their things, cleaning up the space they had used as a temporary home well enough that there was no evidence of their ever being there. Once they were all set, they led the way back to the vehicle. Havardr took the driver’s seat with Eydis as a front passenger while Andrej opened the door in the back to let Saffron and Cedric in. The car itself was much more high class on the inside, much like a limo but not as long. Still, the interior was more spacious than she would have guessed just from looking at it from the outside, making her wonder if there was some kind of enchantment on it that either disguised the exterior or allowed the interior to be bigger than what a vehicle of its size would normally accommodate. It was plenty of room enough that Saffron and Cedric wouldn’t feel cramped or crowded by the Iser.

There were two rows of seats in the back, with a windowed wall blocking off the front where the other two were sitting. The bench seat that was against the wall was backward, facing the back of the vehicle, again much like a limo would have. There were some basic amenities including a small television and an enchanted fridge that would provide drinks and food for the trip as desired. As far as Saffron could tell, pretty much all that was missing was a bathroom and a hot tub. She shot Cedric a look, her brows raised to silently indicate her surprise at how luxurious their ride was, before sliding in and taking a seat on the reversed bench. Once they were inside, Andrej joined them, taking a seat on the bench furthest back next to the doors, and as the car pulled out onto the road his eyes were attentive to the windows around them, seemingly more concerned about their surroundings than anything else.

Normally Saffron would have been eager to throw a teasing quip at Cedric when he remarked about, essentially, having an unremarkable face. It was prime real estate for a joke, and she mentally lamented the missed opportunity. But with the situation being what it was, she knew it wasn’t the most appropriate time for jokes, so she begrudgingly let it slide. There was no need to display any overconfidence in the moment, not when they still had no idea what they were really in for with this mission.

So instead, they played things cool for now and followed Andrej inside, where they were introduced to his companions, before eventually heading back out and piling into the car. It was then that things truly started to get bizarre as Saffron and Cedric looked around the rather nice accommodations inside the vehicle. It was one thing to be hired for work in another country, having to jump through a few illegal hoops to accommodate it. It was another entirely to be met with such finery in the process, leading her to wonder who the hell was trying to hire her. They clearly had money, and if that was the case, why were they placing their trust in a nobody like her? It would have made some sense if she was at least well known in the guild communities for the type of rescue work they were looking to hire her for, but she had next to no experience in that regard.

It didn’t make a lot of sense, but until they could find a way to get more information there was little they could do besides go along with everything for now. Andrej was keeping his attention outside the vehicle as it moved, which caught Cedric’s curiosity, the former Dread Master asking their escort if they should be worried about any trouble. “Not’ing specific,” the Iser remarked, calmly keeping to his task without turning to look at the pair of them. “Dis is home for yu, but for us dis is enemy territory. Vee have also been charged to bring Miss Remington – and now yu as vell – to de village safely. Failure to do so vill not be tolerated.”

Only then did he briefly pull his gaze away to meet Cedric’s squarely, and from his expression he seemed genuine. Andrej clearly took pride in his work and reputation, or at least was loyal enough to his boss to take his job seriously. Per his own words, he seemed to simply be alert for the sake of being thorough, knowing he wouldn’t be much of an escort if he allowed himself to get comfortable and complacent during the trip, particularly while within the borders of a nation they were technically at war against. His wariness made sense, given that perspective. Saffron and Cedric likely could have ease his concerns by mentioning that they knew the Rune Knight leaders personally and could likely convince authorities to leave them alone… but there wasn’t a reason to offer up that connection, not unless the need actually arose.

“Why do I feel like I’m being hired by a mob boss?” Saffron murmured in amusement, though not so quietly that Andrej wouldn’t hear.

“Dat is not far from de trut’,” he replied easily, his attention having already returned back to the windows. “If yu are from Bosco, den yu have some education on Iserheim, yes?”

She shrugged. “A fair bit. I was in the Defense Force.”

Andrej nodded. “Den yu vould know dat Iserheim has very little by vey of government. Our nation is filled vith many tribes dat are often at var vith each other as much as vith ot’ar countries. De tribes must do vat dey can to survive, and most rely on verk dat is considered criminal in more ‘civilized’ places: smuggling, mercenary verk, dat sort of t’ing. Vee are no different, except dat vee are much more successful at vat vee do den most ot’ar tribes.”

“And what is it, exactly, that you guys do?”

Once more he drew his eyes from the windows, this time to study Saffron in consideration. She met his eyes squarely, though he seemed to be less viewing her with suspicion and more weighing how much he could say. Finally, he told them, “Smuggling and heist verk, mostly.”

Saffron had a feeling she wasn’t going to get much more out of him than that, so she chose not to press for further details, despite the fact that she now had several more questions floating around in her head. At the forefront of them all was wondering why a supposed crime lord from Iceberg was going through so many hoops to hire her. The only nefarious conclusion she could draw was that there was some interest in her for her history with the Defense Force. Bosco wasn’t officially at war with anyone, but neither were they allies with Iceberg and Pergrande. It was possible they also knew about her connection to a former noble family from Bellum as well, but seeing as how Bellum had disavowed the du Wolffs there wasn’t a whole lot of logic behind trying to use her to throw some kind of blow at Bellum.

She continued to watch him when he turned away and went back to his duty, a thoughtful frown on her face for some time. But eventually she grew bored of trying to piece together a puzzle she didn’t have all the parts to, and elected to distract herself. She and Cedric spent the next few hours chatting casually, or pulling up some movies on the lacrivision, and pulling sustenance from the fridge when they were hungry or thirsty. Andrej did the same as far as food and drink went, keeping his hydration choices to non-alcoholic beverages, and otherwise seemed uninterested in whatever his charges were discussing or watching. If either of them attempted to engage him, however, he was polite enough to carry on a discussion without ever truly allowing himself to become inattentive to his duty.

They wouldn’t stop until after they had left Fiore and made it safely into Seven, which was the first time that Andrej did seem to relax somewhat, though he was still plenty alert. Several miles into Seven, the car pulled over in a small town – if one could call it that. Saffron was captivated despite herself, having never been to Bosco’s northern neighbor before. The ‘city’ seemed to be built right into the woods, with homes and businesses coexisting within the trees and the forest without damaging the nature around them. Saffron and Cedric were given time to use the restroom as needed, as well as some time to stretch their legs and walk around a little after being confined in a vehicle for so long. Eydis walked alongside them with all the grandeur of a secret service agent. She was so focused and dedicated to her duty that Saffron simply didn’t have the heart to tell her that she highly doubted either of them truly needed bodyguards, particularly in a pacifistic nation like Seven.

Altogether, they were out and about for roughly forty five minutes or so before they were asked to return to the car so the trip could continue. Saffron had made a couple small purchases from the local shops as souvenirs. Sure, they weren’t there to sightsee, but she’d never been to Seven before and didn’t see a reason to not purchase a couple things that interested her just because she was on her way to a job. They piled back in and continued on as before. After a few more hours of travel, the weather started to turn colder, giving way to thick fir trees and other plants that were better suited to the chillier climate. Saffron’s face soured a bit when she looked out the window at some point and saw the increase in snow, but she said nothing.

Getting through the border was relatively simple. They were stopped by a few armed warriors that were manning a barricade, clad in thick furs and leather against the cold. Saffron didn’t catch much of the conversation between Havardr and the guards, given that her grasp of Iser was rusty and rudimentary, but she did see what appeared to be a bribe passed along. Andrej was at his most alert in that moment, his sharp blue eyes seemingly taking in everything at once. Considering what he’d said about his country earlier that day, as well as the type of work that their tribe was involved in, it stood to reason that he was more concerned about threats from other tribes more than anything else.

But they were allowed through without incident, and he eventually settled back down. They drove for another hour or so before pulling up to what appeared to be some kind of remote safehouse out in the middle of nowhere. Saffron and Cedric were asked to stay in the car with Havardr while Andrej and Eydis got out to scout the area. It was the first time she and Cedric were somewhat alone since that morning, with Havardr still in the front seat while the two of them were alone in the back. “Boy, these guys really mean business, don’t they? This shit just keeps getting weirder.”

Only once they had verified that the coast was clear did they invite them to exit. Saffron pulled on her thick jacket, the blonde practically shrinking in on herself the moment she stepped outside. With a deep scowl and a grumble, she shoved her hands in her pockets to keep them warm. It was only through stubborn determination that she resisted the urge to race to the door, eager to get out of the cold but not enough to be a pussy about it. The safehouse was small and not necessarily luxurious, but it was warm and comfortable. There were only a couple bedrooms. They were given the option of having their own rooms but Saffron declined, reasoning that she and Cedric both would probably be more comfortable under the circumstances if they weren’t separated for the night. The bed in their room was plenty large enough for the two of them, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t shared a bed in the past anyway.

The night passed without incident, with their escorts taking shifts to sleep and keep watch, though with Cedric’s ability to sense magic he would know that there were a number of fairly well done enchantments around the building to serve as early alert systems and defensive mechanisms. They woke their charges early in the morning, giving them enough time to enjoy a warm breakfast at a table in the kitchen before carrying on with their journey. However, they had swapped out the modern lacrivehicle for a more primitive looking carriage. When asked about it, Andrej had explained that due to Iceberg’s general poor economy and below average technology, a fancy car was more likely to draw unwanted attention. So instead, they would continue in a more modest fashion in a smaller carriage that sat on flat ski blades instead of wheels, that could be towed by a snowmobile.

Additionally, the Iser wore more traditional Icebergian clothing and had armed themselves with some firearms that had been stowed in the safehouse. Andrej and Eydis sat in the back with Saffron and Cedric, each of them picking a side to watch the windows with their rifles lowered but within reach. Saffron was decidedly more grumpy during this part of the trip. There was little by way of entertainment, so between the snow and ice and her boredom, she had a semi-permanent glower on her face. Eventually, she wound up falling back asleep against Cedric, certain enough in the Isers’ genuine aim to protect them that she wasn’t too worried about letting her guard down around them for a bit.

Their journey took them further northwest, the flatter tundras giving way to the northern mountains, where the weather become more ferociously chilly. A strong headwind fought them through several valleys, blowing up snow and fog and reducing visibility at a concerning rate. They only spotted other natives once, but the other tribesmen elected not to engage or follow them, carrying about and minding their own business.

After about six hours of travel, the sun was high overhead. It was roughly early afternoon, with a few hours of daylight left but noticeably on its way toward dusk. Having passed through the worst of the mountain ranges and headed back down into a lower elevation, the weather had calmed somewhat, wth mostly clear skies and currently no raging snow storms to block their sight of the horizon. As such, when they broke through the valley, they would be met with the full sight of the village that was their destination.

Calling it a village was, in truth, humble. Considering that most tribes were relatively small, this could practically be considered a town, or even a small city. Iser style homes and buildings with slanted rooftops, crafted of sturdy logs and stone, were all packed in close with one another, surrounding a respectably sized lake that fed out into the northern Whirlpool Sea. A number of smaller ships were either docked along shore or out in the middle of the lake where fishermen were preparing for evening catches. The homes themselves appeared sturdy, if not necessarily grand. Iceberg wasn’t exactly known for having a strong economy, so the overall state of the community felt only a few steps above what would be considered poverty in Fiore and Bosco; rough and ordinary, but comfortable. All of that was lost in the view of the landscape, however, Even Saffron was captivated by the picture perfect view of the valley’s settlement, momentarily forgetting her annoyance with the climate to stare in wonder at their surroundings.

“Vellkum to Haukrsvik; Hawk’s Bay.” Andrej was more relaxed than he had been the entire trip, the man even allowing himself a bare but proud smile at the sight of his home land, giving them its native name as well as the Fioren translation of it. Havardr continued to drive them through the settlement, the people pausing their work to watch curiously as they drove past. Their final stop appeared to be a large Iser longhouse that was set up by the rise of one of the nearby mountain bases, high enough on the slope to overlook the rest of the colony. In comparison to the other homes, it was practically a mansion, nearly as large if not larger than many of the buildings they’d passed that appeared to be more for commercial use than residential. It was three stories tall from the main entry, though there appeared to be at least one basement level, possibly two. It had a stone foundation with thick wooden walls that were beautifully and intricately set, with totems to Iser gods and a number of banners and flags adorning the outside. There were several smaller buildings surrounding it that appeared to serve different functions, such as for storing food and cattle.

They pulled up to the front and Andrej shared a quick word in Iser with one of the guards that had approached them while Saffron and Cedric stepped out of the carriage. The blonde took in the sight of the longhouse with a mixture of wariness and appreciation. It was an impressive structure, certainly grander than anything she’d ever been led to believe existed in Iceberg outside of Frostgard, the country’s only large city. “Come,” Andrej said, finishing his conversation and turning to face the pair of them. Havarder and Eydis were already pulling the carriage away to park it somewhere more appropriate. “De chief is inside. She vill vant to see you right avey.”

Saffron blinked at him. “She?” Like Cedric, she had assumed the chief was a man. Andrej either didn’t hear the remark or elected not to comment on it, guiding them inside. There was a moderately sized entry foyer were they were able to shake off the snow from their feet and ankles. It was plenty warm enough inside that they didn’t need their jackets, and some form of servant or vassal approached to take their coats. Saffron stripped hers off and handed it over along with her scarf after brushing all of the snow off her pants. When they were ready, Andrej led them through a large set of heavy, wooden, and intricately carved double doors.

Way lay beyond could only be described as a sort of throne room. The space was large with a vaulted ceiling, and plenty of light filtering through the windows. The hardwood floors were covered with dozens of large rugs, and there was a large fire pit in the center of the room that provided an extra layer of warmth to the space. Several long tables with stools were set out among the room, with doors leading to other areas of the building on either side of the room. At the far end was a slightly raised dias where a high backed chair was set on top of a fur rug.

Sitting in the chair was a woman. She was of middling age with a thin, athletic frame. Despite the weather outside, she appeared quite comfortable with a simple pair of high waisted utility pants and a white tank top, and there was a holster strapped to her hip that held a firearm of some kind. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a loose braid. She was silently listening to the half dozen men that stood in a half circle before her, arguing with one another, the chief’s expression stern if not somewhat disinterested, like she was unimpressed with whatever topic the warriors were disagreeing over.

Her gaze flicked up briefly when she saw Andrej’s approach, before she did a double take. Her dark eyes widened as they locked on Saffron, the woman sitting up in her chair. “líðawayr,” she said, her voice cutting through the argument and bringing it to an immediate halt. The group turned only long enough to see the approaching foreigners before exchanging some glances and making themselves scarce with a bow. “líðvitar Viggo.” Another command was issued to a nearby vassal, who immediately ran off to do whatever he’d been bid. Saffron watched everyone go, an odd feeling settling in her stomach as the chief stood and came down to meet them.

Andrej bowed low in respect. “Drótinn,” he greeted her formally before continuing in Fioren. “I have returned vit de one yu requested, Saffron Remington of de Fairy Tail mages in Fiore. Vit us also is her companion, Cedric.” He straightened and turned to face the foreigners, gesturing to the woman. “Dis is our chief and varlord, Katla vonn Hawke.”

“Thank you, Andrej.” Knowing he was being dismissed, the man bowed once more before taking his leave.

Saffron stood there, feeling a little awkward. Katla regarded them both, sparing a genuinely curious and considering look for Cedric, but otherwise her attention seemed almost glued on Saffron with a sense of wonder and a strong emotion that Saffron couldn’t have put to words if she tried. Finally, she crossed her arms. “I got your request. I understand you’re looking for help finding your lost children, though I’m still fuzzy on why you hand picked a nobody mage out of an enemy nation for the task.”

Katla studied her for a moment. “Yes. I understand that this vas all a bit strange.” Her grasp of Fioren was better than Andrej’s, the women’s accent still present but less pronounced than those that had been escorting them over the last two days. “I’m sorry for not providing more information from the start, but the situation is… complicated.” She paused there, either searching for words or searching for strength before continuing. “My children – my daughters –  have been missing for a very long time. About two decades. But… in agreeing to come to vith Andrej… you have already returned one of them to me.”

Saffron frowned, the gears in her mind slow to turn. When the realization finally hit home, her eyes went wide in shock, her arms dropping to her sides as she took a surprised half step back. “Mom..?”

It seemed Cedric’s prediction that they had needed Saffron for something much more specific than a job had been correct.

Saffron could only stare outright at the woman standing before them, her jaw dropped in flabbergasted shock. She only had the vaguest of memories of her mother, fleeting images from her far removed youth that wouldn’t have aided her at all in identifying the woman. Katla could have walked past her on an empty street in broad daylight and Saffron probably wouldn’t even have looked at her twice. If her father had kept any pictures of their mother, Saffron had never seen them before. He almost never spoke of her. She and Senna both had tried asking about their mom several times when they were younger, and all he’d ever told them was that she’d left shortly after Senna had been born, abandoning them all without any reason that he felt inclined to share.

And now here she was, standing before her and Cedric. Saffron couldn’t decide if this was some sort of sick dream or a flat out nightmare. From the way he’d muttered, Cedric seemed to have put the pieces together about as quickly as Saffron had. Katla merely stood there waiting patiently and giving them both time to process the news, even as she watched her daughter with the weight of heavy emotion, perhaps even trepidation. Her dark eyed gaze managed to peel itself away from Saffron to regard Cedric, who spoke up first, apologizing for speaking in Fioren since his Iser was rusty. He introduced himself fully, claiming to be a friend of Saffron’s, before remarking at the methods she had used to arrange the meeting.

Katla considered him quietly for a moment, then let out a soft exhale through her nostrils. “It is no trouble. I speak Fioren fluently enough. And you are right – it was intentionally misleading, on my part. As I said, the situation is complicated,” she explained gently.

Opening her mouth to continue with more details, she instead found herself cut off by Saffron, who had finally found her own voice again. “Complicated?” Her irises had turned red, causing Katla’s brows to furrow in curiosity. “This is what you call ‘complicated’? You’ve been gone for practically my entire life – for all of Senna’s life – and now you waltz in almost twenty years later with absolutely zero warning, tricking me into dragging my ass all the way out into the middle of butt-fuck nowhere, with no time to prepare myself, and all you can say is ‘it’s complicated’?!”

“And if I had said from the start who I vas, vould you have come?”

“I don’t know, but I might have..!” Saffron’s fists were clenched in frustration. She’d been caught off guard, and decades of pent up feelings of frustration and abandonment were quickly rushing to the surface in the form of anger. “I would have at least considered it. Maybe I wouldn’t have come out all this way, but I could have sent back a note or been open to communication. You didn’t have to fucking lead me in blindly..!”

Katla regarded her for a beat… only for her shoulders to droop. “Then.. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to corner you, minn dóttir. I just vanted to have the chance to meet you, and I vas afraid that you vould say no. I see now that I could have handled it better.”

Saffron scoffed. “So what, you’re gone for all these years and now all of the sudden you decide you want to be a mother? Is that what this is? Cause it’s a bit fucking late for that, don’t you think?”

Her mother frowned in confusion. “Vat is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh please, don’t act like I don’t know. How old was I when you fucked off and abandoned us? Two, at most? Sen was barely even a few months old!”

“Vait a minute,” Katla replied, suddenly drawing herself up a bit sharply, though that didn’t seem to be aimed at Saffron. “Vat do you mean, abandoned you? I did no such thing!”

“Don’t you lie to my face. Dad told us all about how you picked up and left us without a word or backward fucking glance.” Her mother stiffened in visible anger, but Saffron continued without giving her a chance to chime in. “Do you even know how many years I sat there, wondering why you hated us so much that you would leave? Wondering why we weren’t good enough for you? Or why we meant so little to you that you couldn’t even send us a message or say goodbye?!”

“I never hated you!” the older woman insisted, raising her voice firmly. She wasn’t yelling, but Katla was clearly upset by the things Saffron was saying. “You vere my verld! You and your sister! I vould have taken my own life before I ever considered valking out of yours!” There was moisture building at the corners of her eyes, a heavy mixture of rage and sorrow and pain enveloping her, a display of passion that Saffron seemed to have inherited from her. “He took you from us!”

Each word was emphasized clearly, the statement as sure as it was bold. Saffron stared at her for a moment… before giving an incredulous, dry scoff of a laugh. “You expect me to believe that? That dad just packed Sen and me up and vanished into the night? You must be totally fucking mad if you think I’d ever buy that for even one second.”

“I am telling you the truth! Alrik – or Mitchel, or vatever the hell he calls himself now – he took you vhile we vere gone. By the gods, he’s not even your father..!”

Saffron’s eyes went wide for a moment, before narrowing dangerously on her. The Boscan’s entire body was stiff with rage. “What did you just say to me?”

Katla, for her part, seemed to immediately regret the words as soon as they had left her mouth, though it seemed to be more the force with which she had said them than the words themselves. She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down so she could continue with more control over herself, berating her loss of temper with a few choice, murmured curses in Iser. “Minn apologr, I should not have thrown that at you so roughly. I just…” The woman shook her head sadly before opening her eyes and locking gazes with her daughter. “He is not your dad. He took you from me and your real father, my mate, Viggo.”

A thick silence befell the room as the two women stared at one another, Katla raw and weary, Saffron furious and unconvinced. The younger woman couldn’t decide what was more ridiculous: the idea that her mother would make such a bold and horrifying claim… or the fact that Katla looked like she genuinely believed it to be truth. Saffron was fighting back the inclination to look back and scrutinize the details of her life, of her childhood, of allowing even a shred of doubt in toward the man that had raised her and her sister on his own, who had loved them, provided for them, taught them right from wrong. It was an absolutely ridiculous notion, a lie meant to confuse her, to paint this woman a victim and excuse her decades long absence in their lives, nothing more.

So why where there a growing pit in her stomach?

“I’m going to get some air,” Saffron announced. Promptly, she turned on her heels and stormed back out the way she’d come, stomping right out the front doors and into the snow without even bothering to search for her jacket.

Katla watched her go without making any attempt to stop her, though from the look on her face she wanted to. As a few soft, quiet tears leaked from her eyes, she slumped down onto the step of the dais with a sigh, her head hung sadly. “At var eigi hvernig ek hopeð at munu líða… I am sorry… Cedric, vas it? It vasn’t my intention for anyone else to get caught up in this.”

Katla looked exhausted where she sat. She’d know that Saffron would likely be upset by the situation, but she hadn’t expected anything like this. The assumption had always been there that Alrik had chosen to pass himself off as the girls’ father, though hearing it confirmed had still angered her. But she’d never suspected that he had told them the reason their mother wasn’t in their lives was because she had left them. It was beyond irritating – it was offensive. She wanted nothing more than to raze her way through Bosco to find the coward and ring his neck until he was blue in the face.

But those were fantasies for another time. Cedric being present for the confrontation wasn’t something she had planned for, and it had placed him in an uncomfortable position. So, the chieftain apologized. Cedric insisted it was fine, and that he was glad to be there so he could support Saffron. It seemed her daughter had been going through quite the rough patch lately, and that this was simply one more thing on top of many others that the younger woman had been dealing with, and he was simply grateful that he was at the ready this time. “I… see,” Katla said, taking his words into consideration with an expression that betrayed her realization of how poor the timing of all of this had apparently been.

She felt him turn his gaze back to her and she lifted her own to meet him, gently wiping away the traces of the small handful of tears that had fallen. He remarked that he had several questions of his own, primarily wondering what sort of proof she could offer to back up her claims, while also admitting in the same breath that it was Saffron’s right to ask for such things, not his own. And while he understood her reasons for handling the situation how she did, he expressed his opinion that she had set herself back several steps in doing so. All that was left to do was wait and see how the chips fell.

Katla nodded slowly, but there was a trace of determination in her expression. “Then it seems I have some verk to do, more than I had previously expected.” Cedric sighed and advised her to give Saffron some time to cool down, while also warning her that there may need to be some repairs done depending on how Saffron had elected to blow off steam. “It’s fine. Everyvon here knows who she is. As long as she does not hurt anyvon, then they vill not attempt to stop her, and vee vill deal vith the damages later.” He turned and left without another word, Katla watching him leave much like she had watched Saffron. Then, with a sigh, she pushed herself back to her feet and left to take care of a few things of her own until they were ready to speak to her again.

Outside, Saffron had tramped out into the woods a fair distance, far enough that she couldn’t see the house through the trees. Her anger was building into a peak, bubbling up within her until her body was trembling. If she didn’t punch something, she would fucking scream. So she reared back and threw her fist into the nearest tree, which exploded on contact. Scraps and large splinters of wood rained down from above her, getting caught in her clothes and her hair, even as the trunk crumbled into pieces where it once stood. She was left without so much as a scratch on her knuckles, but only because she’d used her still disguised prosthetic limb.

“Who the hell does she think she is?” she growled. The absolute nerve of this woman, the sheer audacity to show up after all this time and tell Saffron that her entire life up until this point had been a lie. Saffron was so angry she couldn’t even think straight, torn between marching back inside to give the woman another piece of her mind and asking Cedric to zip them straight to Bosco so she could confront her ‘father’ then and there.

By the time Cedric found her, she was simply standing there in the snow, angry and miserable and somewhat dejected, doing her best to ignore the cold. She didn’t look at him when he approached, even as he put her jacket around her shoulders and remarked upon the mess they had stumbled into. “She’s clearly full of shit,” Saffron spat, clinging to her anger and denial like a security blanket. But there was a smidgen of non-commitment to her tone, the evidence of the seed of doubt that had been sown within her, despite her best efforts.

As if finally registering the cold, or maybe just in need of some kind of comfort, she pulled the flaps of the jacket tighter around her. “I am… so fucking tired… of being lied to by all the people that are supposed to care about me.” It was a never ending cycle. Addy and Xavier had been bad enough, but now this..? Someone was lying to her. One of her parents was lying to her, and as much as she wanted to pin it all on the woman that she’d grown up believing had abandoned her, Saffron knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she was able to ferret out the truth, one way or another.

Saffron sighed with resignation. “Do you think she’s telling the truth?” she asked him quietly. If nothing else, Saffron was more than well aware that she had a temper, and that it didn’t always allow her to see situations clearly. She was sure that he had an opinion on the matter, and at this point the only person whose thoughts may have mattered more to her were Senna’s. But, Senna wasn’t there, and Saffron wasn’t about to call her sister and upend her life like Saffron’s had just been, not until she had more information.

It was times like these that were both a blessing and a curse. Saffron vented her frustrations about how many people in her life had spent so much time deceiving her, and Cedric was quick to gently remind her that there were still plenty of those that had been true and honest with her from the start. He named Vandrad, Mercury, and himself in particular, but there were still others. Saffron closed her eyes and gave a mental shake of her head in frustration at herself. He was right, of course, and she felt stupid for generalizing. While she was sure Cedric hadn’t taken it personally, knowing she was just frustrated, it had still been unkind to imply that there was no one trustworthy in her life. His patience and understanding with her was just another reminder of how much he cared about her, which in turn was a reminder of everything else that had been going on lately.

She ignored that spiral of thought and pushed past it, listening to him instead as he agreed that she’d had a bad run of things, but not everyone had misused her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” Even if he hadn’t taken it as a slight against him, it was still right to apologize, particularly when he was right here trying to help her.

Saffron asked him if he thought Katla was telling the truth, wanting his opinion on the matter. His response was that it was difficult to say one way or the other. Neither of them could boast the ability to see through a lie like Mythal could, and Cedric didn’t have the exposure to Saffron’s family that she did. However, he did believe that she had been misled somewhere by the man she’d known as her father up until that point, stating that Katla’s reaction to some of the things Saffron had told her felt pretty genuine to him. With his experience in the underworld, he was inclined to trust his instinct on the matter.

However, that didn’t answer whether or not Katla’s belief, however genuinely she seemed to believe it, was real. Both of them were silent for a moment, Saffron quietly nodding her understanding and begrudging agreement with his thoughts. After a few beats, he followed up to warn her that finding the truth was going to make things harder before they could really get better, and no matter what she found out, nothing with her family life was going to be the same again. But, he was there for her, and on her side, no matter how things went down, refusing to let her go it alone.

She finally found the strength to turn her gaze up to him, her eyes once more the rare shade of light pink to accompany the look of gratitude and admiration she gave him. “Thank you.” With a sigh, she stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest like she often did when she was feeling overwhelmed and in need of some kind of grounding. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this… but I’m really glad you’re here.” Saffron didn’t even want to think about how poorly she might have handled all of this on her own.

The blonde was content to stand like that for a bit, soaking in his warmth, his scent, and the comfort that he always had for her. But she knew they couldn’t stand out in the snow covered forest forever. It was already freezing outside, and as the sun made its descent toward the horizon it was only going to get colder. A loud rumbling from her stomach also reminded her that she’d had very little to eat that day besides breakfast and some rations they’d brought in the carriage.

Ignoring that for the moment, she told him, “I guess I should at least give her a chance. If nothing else, to let her plead her case and see what comes of it…” Without pulling away, Saffron lifted her head to look up at him. “Will you stay? I don’t want to be selfish, and I know this is all going to be awkward and uncomfortable as shit but.. I don’t think I trust myself to be objective with all of this…” He’d already said he wasn’t going to let her traverse all of this alone, but she didn’t want to assume that he’d be keen on remaining in Iceberg for a few more days and expose himself directly to her family trauma. It was a lot to ask of anyone, especially him considering how complicated things already were between them, but she couldn’t deny that out of everyone that could have gotten roped into this bullshit with her… she was glad it had been him.

As in all things, Cedric seemed to be taking everything in stride. He teased about how he would have hated to not be present for this earth shattering revelation like he had with everything that happened with Xavier. Despite everything, she did smirk a little against his chest. But they couldn’t stand around forever out in the snow, and eventually Saffron accepted that it was time to face the music. But before then, she looked up and asked if he was planning on staying. He joked that he had been thinking he’d just zip back off home and leave her here to fend for herself while he caught up on some wrestling. Saffron shook her head ruefully, but there was a small smile on her face in appreciation for his attempt to lighten the mood a bit.

Ultimately, he looked back down at her and assured her he was going to stay, thinking it would be cruel to leave her to untangle something like this by herself. He suggested they get something to eat first, though, as that would make it easier to handle what was ahead of them. Saffron nodded in agreement, though she lingered a bit longer, having a difficult time pulling her gaze from him. Despite everything else going on, she couldn’t fight back the overwhelming sense of gratitude she had for him at that moment, even more so than she had felt over the last few weeks. It really was an unexpected and inconvenient time for her to realize that she was in love with Cedric, what with all the surprises and life changes and pain surrounding her life recently, the vast majority of which had stemmed from having her heart broken by another man. She knew it was wrong to get wrapped up in the feeling while her emotions were already raw, but despite everything else going on, in that one small moment, Saffron knew beyond a doubt how she felt. The blonde wanted nothing more than to say it, to lean up and kiss him…

Instead, with some visible reluctance, she took a gentle step back, pulling the jacket tighter around herself once more in a futile attempt to fill the void that was left from losing the warmth of holding him. “Well… I guess let’s go see what they have to eat around here, then.”

Together they trudged back to the house. Katla was not in the throne hall when they returned inside, but they were able to flag down an attendant of some kind, asking them about food. Even though Saffron made it clear that they were happy to go to wherever the kitchen was and handle it themselves, the man insisted on making sure it was taken care of for them. He bowed to her several times, which was somewhat annoying… though mostly that was because she was starting to realize that the people around here likely viewed her as whatever passed for royalty in Iceberg, and were going to keep treating her as such. In the end, she was too tired, hungry, and grumpy to argue it.

Resolving to bring it up with her mother later, Saffron relented and let the man run off to handle it, opting to take a seat at one of the long tables and chat with Cedric while they waited. About twenty minutes later, two members of the household staff brought them a small platter that was filled with several cuts of hot seasoned meat, cheeses, bread that had been cooked fresh that morning, and a pitcher that Saffron at first thought was red wine, but turned out to be a sweet and refreshing juice of some kind. The pair ate in relative privacy, with workers and warriors coming and going through the space about their business without ever really stopping to bother them. Somehow, when they were finished though, someone appeared seemingly out of nowhere to collect the dishes. Once more Saffron chose not to argue for the time being, and instead asked where they could find her mother.

The Iser beckoned for them to follow and led them deeper into the house, through a hallway and up two flights of stairs. Despite the rustic build of the home, which was really little more than a glorified and overly sized log home, it was richly decorated with lots of tapestries and rugs, with intricate carvings in doorways. It may not have seemed like much to people in places like Bosco, Bellum, or even Fiore, but as far as Iceberg was concerned it may as well have been an extravagant mansion.

They arrived at a large door at the end of a hallway on the top floor and the Iser knocked. “Kominnr,”[/color] came her mother’s voice on the other side. The steward opened the door and stepped aside to allow the guests entry before closing the door behind them. They found themselves in what she could only assume was the master bedroom. It was a large space with a big bed that sported a lavish wooden frame and a mixture of cotton fabric and fur pelt blankets. A fireplace crackled neatly on one side where a couch and an armchair sat, and there were several weapons – as well as taxidermied heads of slain beasts – mounted along the walls. Katla was standing over a desk, rifling through paperwork with a small wooden box opened before her. She looked up and was surprised to see them standing there, clearly having expected them to need more time. “Saffron…”

She was starting to set the paperwork down and speak when Saffron held up a hand, cutting her off. The blonde then turned the limb around and extended a few of her fingers. “Three days,” she informed her mother. “You have three days to state your case and give us your side of the story. I’m not promising to believe you, and whether or not we stay in contact after this will depend on how all this goes…but I’ll give you a chance. And if at any point we decide that we don’t like how things are going, we’re leaving.”

Katla considered the statements carefully before she gave a slow nod. “I understand… and thank you.” She offered them smile that was both relieved and happy. “And any time you vish to leave, just say the verd and I vill have an escort assembled.”

“No need. We can get back home easier and quicker on our own.”

The claim seemed to confuse her mother slightly, but the older woman elected not to press it. “Very vell. Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the spot by the fireplace, and Saffron took a seat on the couch, leaving plenty of space for Cedric to sit beside her. Katla set down the papers in her hands and came to join them, sinking down into the armchair. “So… vhere vould you like to start? I am happy to answer vhatever kvestions I can, though I vill leave it up to you if you vish to vait for Viggo to be here as vell. I had him notified when you arrived and he should be home soon. I don’t vant to overvhelm you, but.. He is hoping to see you, too, if you are villing.”

Saffron gave it some earnest thought. It felt… well, a bit sickening to imagine anyone other than Mitchel being her father, and a part of her was unwilling to even entertain the notion of Viggo’s existence until she could get further down to the bottom of the rabbit hole… but nothing helpful would come from keeping her mind closed and clinging to denial. And if this Viggo really was her actual father… “Yeah, I’ll meet him.” Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, Saffron continued. “I guess just start with telling me what happened. And who my dad – Mitchel, or whatever you called him – really is.”

Katla nodded. “Alrik. He vas my lover before Viggo, some years before my mother died and I replaced her as clan chief. Vee remained friends after our courtship ended, but he had a harder time moving on then I did. Things only got vorse after I became chief. He did not agree vith how I ran things, and we butted heads several times. Our friendship.. deteriorated quickly, and even more so after Viggo and I vere ved. Despite everything, Alrik still harbored feelings for me after all those years… and I can’t say that a part of me didn’t feel the same.” She sighed gently, shaking her head. “But he vas not someone I could rely on to be my mate, my second in command. He vas not a leader, didn’t have the strength to make the hard choices, and vas too kind to handle the verk that needed to be done to keep my people fed and clothed.”

“You mean the smuggling and stuff?”

“Yes. Alrik never vas a varrior. He could defend himself and others vhen needed, but he was not suited to the life of a criminal. He vould have been a liability as a clan leader.”

That… seemed to make sense to Saffron. Mitchel had always been a very compassionate and kind hearted person. He was the one who had taught her how to control her temper, and had always been the type of man to turn the other cheek when insulted or offended. She simply could not picture him as a criminal, which was part of why it was so unbelievable to her that he would have kidnapped two children that weren’t even his.

Katla continued. “He took you and your sister vhile Viggo and I were gone. Vee had a large heist happening in Bellum, and it vas crucial that vee succeed, so both of us vent along to ensure everything vent smoothly. Vee vere gone for about a veek, and had left you in the care of your nursemaid. Alrik made his move the first night ve vere gone, and by the time we returned home and learned what had happened, it vas too late. Our men attempted to find you before vee returned home, of course… but between the headstart he had before they realized you vere missing, and a snow storm that covered his tracks…” Her voice trailed off sadly. Even the Iser could only do so much in the snow, and with no trail to follow a rescue mission had been near impossible.

“Vee never gave up, of course. Vee spent years pouring money and resources into locating you, but it took a long time. He kept a low profile, and had your names changed which made it that much harder to track you down. You vere almost eight years old by the time vee found you – five years of searching.”

Saffron listened to the story with a mostly neutral expression, doing her best to set her bias aside to hear everything clearly. As frustrating as this was, it would only get more annoying and more complicated if she either refused to acknowledge a fact, or allowed herself to take something suspicious as fact. The tale her mother wove for them seemed valid enough, though not everything was lining up in a neat little package just yet. She shot Cedric a glance, mostly just to see what his reaction to everything was thus far, and was unsurprised to see that he was just as unreadably thoughtful as Saffron herself was.

She turned her attention back to her mother. “If you found me that long ago, why did you wait until now to reach out to me? Why didn’t you take me back home?” Saffron had plenty of other questions, but this was certainly the biggest and most obvious. And it certainly didn’t help paint her mother in a non-abandoning light.

Katla’s shoulders drooped a little, though she did not appear surprised by the question. In fact, she seemed to have expected it. “Vee tried,” was her quiet response, the woman’s gaze staring off sadly into her lap as she recalled the painful memories. “Vhen vee received vord that Alrik had been spotted in Bosco, and confirmation that you and Senna had been located, Viggo and I dropped everything and smuggled ourselves inside the country. Vee managed to find a vay to delay Alrik from picking you up right avay after school, and both of us vaited outside for you with the rest of the parents…”

Her voice trailed off a little, and she shook her head. “You didn’t even recognize us. It had been so long, and you vere both so young when you vere taken… Vee even valked over and talked to you briefly, but you didn’t even know who ve vere.” Katla wiped away a tear that had managed to reach her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, she steeled herself and continued. “Vee had a choice to make. Vee could take you both back home, but in doing so vee vould essentially be kidnapping you all over again. Vee vould be taking you from the home you knew, the guardian you loved… stealing you from the lives you had, and mostly traumatizing you in the process and running a big risk that you vould grow to resent us because you veren’t old enough to understand vhat vas going on.”

“Or… vee could leave you vere you vere happy, and vait until you vere older. Vee chose the latter.” Katla was putting on a brave face, one like that she was likely used to having to carry at this point just from being a chief and a warlord, and having to keep her guard up constantly so no one ever saw her as weak. But it didn’t take an empath to see that it had been the hardest decision she’d ever had to make in her life, one that had traumatized herself in an effort to not subject her children to further pain and confusion. A few more tears worked themselves to her eyes and she sniffed them back gently. “Vee stationed people in the area to watch over you from a distance and planned on reaching out again after Senna vas eighteen, but by then you had joined the Defense Force. We talked about it and decided that it could ruin your career if vee showed up and announced that you had connections to a chieftain from an enemy nation. So, vee chose once again to keep our distance.”

“It vans’t until vee heard that you had left the army that vee realized vee might have another opportunity, only to discover that you had left the country as vell. Vee veren’t able to track you down for some time again until vee started finding pictures of you in the magazine… that, uh… Sorcerer’s Veekly? And also about your band. That vas how vee vere able to track you down again and discovered you had joined a guild for mages… so vee took the chance and hope for the best.”

Saffron was quiet for a while, her arms crossed over her chest as she thought, turning the story over piece by piece and looking for any detail that stuck out to her. In the end, she was forced to accept that the story – if it were true – was at least sound. Taking her and Senna back to Iceberg at a young age after they’d adjusted to life in Bosco would absolutely have caused more problems, and in Katla’s shoes.. Well, Saffron couldn’t say she might not have done the same. It also stood to reason that finding out she was the child of an Iser warlord would absolutely have been considered a huge conflict of interest while she was in the army, and it would have derailed her career even sooner, and possibly put her under investigation.

“I… suppose that all makes sense,” she admitted. Not one to be deterred from her goal, however, Saffron elected to change tactics. “But it still doesn’t explain why dad took us in the first place. You said yourself that he’s not that kind of man, yet you’re still trying to sell me that he went from an upright citizen to child kidnapper overnight? I don’t buy it.”

Katla shifted a bit in her seat. “I’m afraid that’s not something I can answer for you. Vee never got an answer ourselves. I can only tell you vhat I know, and vhile vee considered confronting Alrik several times… vee vere afraid that it would force him to go to ground again and take you girls vith him, and vee vould have to start over in trying to find you.”

Yet more reasonable answers. The situation, and Saffron’s feelings about it, were getting more complicated by the second. “Well, then I guess I’ll have to have a talk with him myself,” the blonde declared. Her father, if he truly was that, had some things to answer for if she was going to get to the bottom of this… but not right now. She would wait until after this trip and confront him in person, with Senna.

Saffron sighed, letting go of her frustration for now. “I don’t suppose you have any kind of proof of… any of this?”

“Not anything that you couldn’t argue was forged, but…” The chief stood and went back to the desk. Picking up the small wooden box, she brought it back and sat back down with it. The box was clearly meant for housing important documents, sporting a lock as well as a few layers of protective enchantments, should any of them be capable of noticing such things; spells to protect against fire and water, alarm systems and the like. Withdrawing two documents, she offered them to Saffron and Cedric to inspect: birth certificates.

Both parchments were noticeably aged, as paper often became over the years. Since Iceberg had little by way of government, the documents weren’t uniform to anything that would have been standard nationally, but all the necessary information was present and it otherwise carried a look of legality to it. The birthdates matched up to both hers and her sister’s, and listed Katla and Viggo as the parents. The only things that were different were the names, which her mother had already confirmed earlier that Mitchel had changed once they’d settled in Bosco.

Saffron stared at her own document, trying to decide how she felt about her alleged real name. “Valkyrie..?”

Katla nodded, a small smile on her face. “Yes. Valkyrie vonn Hawke. And your sister, Freya.”

The Fairy Tail mage scrunched her nose a bit, though there was some amusement in her expression. “Boy, and I used to make fun of you for having a comic book villain name,” she muttered at Cedric wryly, handing him the slip to look over. He had more experience handling forgeries and other such documents, so she was sure he’d speak up if anything looked suspicious to him.

“It is a good name, an honorable name,” her mother insisted. “The Valkyie are the most elite and fearsome warriors of the gods, all of them fierce veemen vithout equal on the battlefield. It means, ‘Chooser of the Slain’. It is their duty to determine vhich mortals are vorthy to ascend to Valhalla upon death. It was a fitting name for my firstborn daughter, my heir.”

It was a name that certainly carried a lot of weight in the Iser community, and even carried some ironic imagery considering the form she had taken during the last fight with Seberg. “It’s a comic book villain name,” Saffron retorted, a bit playfully.

Katla snorted in defiance… but she gave a small smirk. “I suppose it is a bit flashy,” the woman relented. Some noise from outside drew her attention to the open window, the muffled and distant sound of a snow vehicle approaching the manor, and voices from people talking to one another in Iser. “Viggo is here,” she announced, standing up once more to glance out the window to confirm. “I vill be right back. I just.. Vant to explain vhat is happening, so he knows vhat to expect.” Though she didn’t say it outright, it was obvious she meant that she wanted to give him a chance to process the fact that Saffron wasn’t going to be ready to accept him as her father just yet.

“Yeah, alright.” Saffron nodded, and soon the two of them were left on their own in the room for a few minutes. Suddenly feeling a little anxious, she distracted herself by taking the opportunity to lean over and briefly rifle through the other items in the lockbox, just to see if anything caught her interest. “What do you think?” she asked Cedric, interested in his thoughts on the matter so far.

After a few minutes – and finding nothing of note in the box, or at least nothing that swayed her against her mother’s story, the door opened and Katla returned with her spouse. Viggo was a mountain of a man, tall and possibly just as muscular, if not more so, than Vandrad and Gren were… though he clearly spent more time on his upper torso than his legs on gym days. He had curly blonde hair that was cut into a mullet that Saffron would have immediately made fun of if this were any other man in any other circumstance, nevermind that the look arguably suited him. He was dressed in a tactical suit of some kind as though he’d just come in from a heist, a blue garment that covered him from the neck down, with white harnesses that allowed him to carry an assortment of tools and weapons.

Saffron sighed gently in resignation as she took him in with all his braun. “Yeah… that scans.” If anyone besides Mitchel was going to be her father, it only made sense that it was a man that was practically a bodybuilder. He looked at her with blue eyes that were ripe with emotion, and the way he carried himself lent to a sense of uncertainty.

The Boscan stood as her parents walked over, meeting the large man’s gaze and sizing him up quietly. “Saffron… this is your father, Viggo.”

The younger woman didn’t say anything at first, and neither did he, both of them at a loss of what to say. “Hey, kiddo…” He finally offered, choosing to be the first to break the awkward silence. His voice was a deep bass, and like Katla he did have an Iser accent but his fluency in Fioren was stronger than Andrej and the others that had escorted them out. “You’ve… sure grown up, haven’t you?”

“Guess so,” Saffron offered, not really sure how to respond to the remark but at least respecting his effort to break the ice.

Katla gestured to the former Dread Master. “This is her friend, Cedric. Vee vere just going over vhat happened, and answering some of their kvestions...”

Saffron snorted at Cedric’s joke regarding her name, and the reference he made to wrestling… though as awful as it was, a part of her did recognize that it actually might make a decent wrestling name. She hadn’t put too much thought into building a character yet, mostly going to the lessons for the sake of having something to preoccupy her mind, but there was no denying that she was enjoying herself. It was something to think about, at least.

Shortly after, Katla left them alone in the room to go collect Viggo, which gave Saffron and Cedric a chance to discuss what they’d learned so far. She asked him for his opinion, to which he stated that on the surface it seemed too clean cut and outrageous, particularly since Iser weren’t exactly known for being forgiving. The idea that they had a chance to take their daughters back and left them with their alleged kidnapper seemed far-fetched… but as Cedric admitted, sometimes rules changed when it involved one’s own children.

It was also worth noting that the birthdates on their Iser certificates seemed to match the dates that Saffron and Senna knew. He remarked that it was evidence of sloppy handiwork on Alrik’s part, a man that was acting more in the moment out of emotion rather than someone who was thinking ahead. Cedric was also of the opinion that the documents Katla and Viggo had were as authentic as anyone was bound to find in a somewhat lawless society like Iceberg. The knowledge that he felt similar about the situation as Saffron didn’t help with simplifying the situation, of course, but that was what it was at this point. Until she made time to confront the man she’d always known as her father, there wasn’t going to be any solid answers.

A few minutes later, Katla returned with Viggo, whom Saffron was having a difficult time denying shared quite a bit of resemblance to her. And to Senna, frankly. Neither one of them seemed to know what to say to one another, the both of them looking at one another with an awkwardness that was enough to drive Saffron crazy. Thankfully, Cedric took a bit of the heat off by interjecting with a handshake, introducing himself more formally and apologizing for coming along for what had turned out to be quite a private situation.

Viggo’s gaze shifted to the man, sizing him up briefly with his eyes before taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake. “A pleasure to meet you as vell, Cedric. I vould have vanted back up in her shoes as vell. It vas a smart move. Thank you for coming vith her.” If nothing else, he seemed grateful to know that Saffron had someone loyal to watch her back, and there was a certain respect in his eyes for Cedric’s willingness to venture into the unknown alongside her.

“Sorry for my current state,” he added, apologizing to them both as he glanced over his work attire. He grimaced a little when he noticed that there was a small splattering of droplets of someone else’s blood on his chest. “I vas in the middle of a job vhen Katla’s message came through. I extracted myself as soon as I heard the news.”

“No worries. Honestly, you could have probably finished. We’re going to stay for a couple days. Granted, I don’t know how long you planned on being gone.”

Viggo shook his head. “No, this is more important,” he insisted gently.

Saffron didn’t have much of an argument for that, or really anything to say about it. Instead, she took her seat back on the couch at Katla’s wordless gesture that they return to a more comfortable arrangement. Viggo pulled the chair from the desk over, setting it beside his mate and taking a seat even as Katla returned to the armchair. “So… what kind of job were you on?” Saffron asked, out of a mixture of curiosity as well as a need to keep the conversation moving so she didn’t feel like clawing the walls in anxiety.

Viggo glanced briefly to Katla, who gave a silent nod. “A heist,” he told them truthfully. “There vas a caravan of munitions being escorted through Joya, bound for Minstrel. My team is still there, but they vill manage just fine vithout me.”

The blonde was extremely curious about what her parents had in mind for the munitions, and how much of it was just meant to bolster their own resources and how much was maybe being carted back to Pergrande to aid with the war. It was a prime opportunity to pry for information that could help the Rune Knights… but ultimately, she decided not to press her luck for the time being. Just because Katla was willing to be honest about their line of work didn’t mean she would be willing to open up about all the details of their operations. That would require more time to build up trust, daughter or no.

Her alleged father forged ahead, equally as invested in keeping the conversation flowing to avoid tense silence. “So… I understand you’re part of a guild in Fiore? Do you enjoy it?”

“Fairy Tail, yeah. It’s been eventful. Keeps me busy, at least. And I’ve learned a lot there, arguably more than when I was in the Defense Force.”

“Right, you vere in the Force for a while. Honorably discharged, if I recall?” Saffron nodded her confirmation. “Vell… I’m sorry to hear about that. You seemed to have recovered vell enough, at least. Vere you able to get healing for your arm?” He indicated to her still disguised limb.

It was no surprise that they were aware of the injury, which had made news in Bosco. That, and the vast majority of her publicity shoots with the magazine and the band all sported her prosthetic. Saffron glanced down at the arm in question. “Nah, it’s just an enchantment.” With a mental flex, she dropped the illusion and revealed the synthetic arm for what it was, lifting it up so they could see it better. “Even magic can only do so much when it comes to dismemberment. My real arm is long gone… but I’ve learned to be happy with this one. It feels natural, now, and it’s a lot more useful than my real one was. Frankly, I’ve half a mind to replace the rest of my limbs, too.” She smirked, clearly joking.

Her parents had had a somewhat visceral reaction to seeing the truth of her injury, as any parent would, but managed to find the humor in the comment with some soft, if slightly uncomfortable, chuckles. “At least it hasn’t kept you down, I suppose. Must be that Iser blood in you.”

“And now you’re part of a band? Vee found some recordings from one of your shows. It’s very impressive.”

Saffron’s face soured. “I was. We just disbanded a couple weeks ago, though we haven’t gone public with it just yet. It’s a long and stupid story.”

From the tone of her voice, that was as far as she was willing to go on the subject. Her parents, sensing that they had unintentionally touched on a sore spot, exchanged a confused and concerned look. “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.”

Understanding it was in everyone’s best interest to change the subject, Viggo cleared his throat and tried shifting to a different topic. “So… you two seem to be fairly close. How did you meet? Are you just friends, or..?” He left the obvious question hanging as he looked between both Saffron and Cedric curiously.

Cedric’s humorous remark about wishing he’d brought a housewarming gift did, at least, seem to lessen the tension in the room a bit. Saffron’s parents chuckled, out of appreciation for the effort if nothing else, and soon they were all seated back down by the fire. They discussed a little about the job Viggo had been on, a topic that interested both Saffron and Cedric greatly, though neither were in a position to really ask much more about it. From there, the topic turned briefly to her time in the army and her injury, before Viggo accidentally stumbled on a subject that was still far too sore for Saffron to talk about.

Unfortunately, the topic he pivoted to wasn’t a whole lot better. Saffron shifted uncomfortably, her mind scrambling for the best way to answer the question. Cedric seemed more prepared than she was, speaking up with a chuckle to explain that he’d met Saffron when he’d shown up to “pester” her mentor, and wound up doing the same to her. He explained they’d wound up going tandem on a couple missions, only to find they complimented each other well on the job, so they’d decided to watch out for one another from there on out.

His response to the question about what their relationship with one another was, was unfortunately not quite as smooth. Or at least, not as much as he was probably hoping. Saffron understood that he was trying to be vague, likely from a mixture of not wanting to make assumptions as well as not admitting to certain activities in front of her (alleged) very large father. Cedric shot her a grin, and Saffron rolled her eyes even as she smirked back… but it was a reminder that Cedric hadn’t grown up with a traditional family life. Parents always knew, and they could see right through that kind of shit.

“It’s complicated,” Saffron tacked on after she saw an all-too-familiar look in Katla and Viggo’s eyes, one she’d seen in Mitchel’s – Alrik’s – plenty of time before. “But yes, just friends. Though I don’t know what he’s talking about with me keeping him out of trouble. If anything I’m the one who’s usually diving headfirst into danger, so pretty sure that makes me the fun one. His only defining personality trait before meeting me was being a cocksure pain in my ass.” Saffron snorted, pleased with herself as she shot her friend a smirk back.

“I see,” Katla said, smiling in genuine humor but clearly making a few mental notes. “Well, I’m glad you have both found reliable companionship, then. That sort of thing is important, especially if you both work side by side often. Trusting your partner with your life is the most vital part of any job.” She turned her smile to Viggo, the expression softening a bit as she reached out and took his hand in hers. The big man returned the look, giving her hand a squeeze.

The four of them spent the majority of the rest of the evening getting to know one another and chatting about whatever interests came up. They learned that Katla was an empath, which very likely explained where Saffron’s weird ability with her eyes had come from, and Viggo was a practitioner of combat arts. They also learned that Katla and Viggo had not attempted to have any more children after Saffron and Senna had been taken, the pair claiming that it would have felt too much like trying to replace the children they had lost. However, she did have a couple aunts and uncles around, as well as a few cousins. They shared a private dinner when evening rolled around, not wanting to overwhelm Saffron with too much attention in the longhouse, which could be heard even from a couple stories up due to how many people were eating and living it up in the room and clearly having a few drinks.

They set Saffron and Cedric up with their own rooms when they expressed they were tired from the long journey, in rooms that were similarly furnished as the rest of the building with rustic decorations and lots of furs and blankets, as well as small fireplaces. The blonde was pleasantly warm and comfortable, despite the cold and lack of central heating.

The next day was spent continuing to interact with her parents more. Much of it included getting a full tour of the longhouse, as well as the settlement. The most interesting room was the one that used to be the nursery Saffron and Senna had shared. Not much had been moved or changed. Katla and Viggo clearly hadn’t the heart or strength to redo the space after losing their children. However, things had been added over the years. There were clippings all over the walls of news they’d managed to get their hands on throughout the years regarding their children. Much of it was accomplishments such as announcements of graduation from primary school and, in Saffron’s case, sport accomplishments. Senna had never been into sports, but somehow they’d managed to get their hands on copies of some of the younger sister’s honor roll awards. There were lots of news clippings from Saffron’s time with the Defense Force, and it seemed they had found ways to get information about Senna’s current academic progress, finding some articles from her university’s newsletters and other things. It was the type of room that might have been creepy and a little obsessive had it been put together by anyone other than a parent, almost like a shrine to the lost daughters.

The settlement itself was fun to explore, even if Saffron complained about the cold frequently, which resulted in plenty of teasing her way. The villagers were friendly and hardworking people that stopped to take time to say hello and introduce themselves as the tribe leaders and their guests passed through. Saffron learned a lot about Iser culture as she watched the people at their various trades. From fishing to baking, tanning to smithing, there was a lot to observe or even try. Some of the settlement guards were even doing some sparring in their off-hours to keep their skills sharp. They offered for Cedric and Saffron to give it a whirl, and Saffron was all too happy to join in, always eager for a good fight. They quickly learned not to go easy on the chief’s daughter, who was more than capable of handing them their asses, though she did learn a few new tricks when they managed to land some hits on her. Even Katla got in on it, revealing that she was a more than capable warrior herself, and worthy of her warchief title.

That night, they joined the rest of the settlers in the longhouse for dinner, where Saffron and Cedric got to experience just how wild Iser could really be. There was tons of food, especially meat. Copious amounts of alcohol were passed around and it did not take long for the men and women to get rowdy and loud, many of them singing off key at the top of their lungs from various Iser shanties, particularly after a few people busted out some flutes and a drum. There was even dancing around the large fire pit.

Despite any misgivings she had about the situation itself, Saffron quickly immersed herself in the chaos of the longhouse. Though Katla and Viggo usually ate on the dais, they joined Saffron and Cedric down on the main floor where everyone was packed into the rows of tables, sharing personal stories of battles, cultural legends, and even some religious myths. Saffron practically threw herself into the dancing when she was caught watching it curiously, a few of the inebriated Iser offering to teach her – and Cedric, if he wished – some of the steps, which was very tribal in nature. There was gambling and friendly tests of strength, and plenty of booze to go around. While Saffron wasn’t going to let her guard down enough to get plastered, she did enjoy a couple drinks enough to get a good buzz going.

Or at least, that was her intent. In reality, while she didn’t get so drunk as to lose control of her faculties, she did perhaps have one or two drinks too many. It was hard not to. Saffron had been going through so much shit lately, and hadn’t really allowed herself to unwind or get it out of her system. Frankly… she needed the excuse to let loose, and with Cedric there she trusted that he’d keep her in check and make sure she didn’t get too out of hand. While she did her best not to give it too much thought, it was hard to deny that a part of her fit right in with the Iser. Saffron had always been a bit rough around the edges, quick with verbal jabs and playful banter, and very physically active. The Iser simply embodied a lot of things that felt natural to her, and she was having a good time.

Perhaps too good of a time. The next morning, the final full day that they would be spending in Iceberg, Saffron woke up with a moderate headache and a slight hangover. She groaned in annoyance at the morning sunlight. It was rare that Saffron was grumpy in the mornings, usually up and alert the moment she was awake, but she was clearly feeling the effects of the previous night’s partying.

Katla smirked at Saffron, even as she spread some butter on a fresh roll and stuffed it with a few shreds of meat. “From the vey you vere talking last night, I vas under the impression that you could hold your alcohol much better than this.”

“I can,” Saffron insisted. “Normally, at least. I don’t know what the fuck you guys put in your ale, but that shit hits harder than any lager I’ve had in Bosco or Fiore.”

Viggo snorted. “Vell, everyone knows that Fioren ale is little more than piss vater. Their excuse for ‘beer’ couldn’t keep you varm even in the dunes of Desierto.” He took a plate and filled it with a large scoop of scrambled eggs and honey topped toast. “Eat. The protein and carbs vill help.”[/color] The blonde glared at the food like the very sight of it was churning her stomach, but she’d had enough hangovers in the past to know he was right. Picking up a fork, she forced herself to dig in, as well as to drink plenty of water.

It was right toward the end of breakfast when the sound of distant horns filled the sky. The only reason Saffron thought anything of it was because Katla and Viggo immediately stiffened and raised their heads. When a second horn sounded, Katla was on her feet with Viggo a step behind her, rushing toward the front of the longhouse. Saffron shared a concerned look with Cedric before pushing herself up and following after them. They caught up just in time to hear the tail end of a winded guard that had just ran the way up to the longhouse. “--from the south. Dey probably have already reached de south end of de village.”

“How many?”

“Tventy-five, maybe t’urty. Dere shields carry de device of de lion.”

Katla’s face turned red with rage. “Baldur,” she growled dangerously. Whether due to her anger or some other reason, she continued in Iser. While Saffron couldn’t understand more than a few words, the body language and the way the guard took off afterward was more than enough to understand that he’d been given instructions. A steward in the house had already rushed in, carrying a bundle of weapons. Viggo picked up several knives and tucked them expertly away on his body, while Katla buckled a longsword at her hip as well as a firearm.

“What’s going on?”

“A raid from a rival tribe. Stay here. Vee vill–”

“Yeah, not happening. Where do you want us?”

“Valk– Saffron, I just got you back. I am not going to risk losing you again.”

“I get that everyone else around here takes orders from you, but I don’t. If people are in danger, I’m going to fight. And lucky for you, Cedric and I are both pretty damn good at it, so either you tell us where you want us to go, or we’ll make the decision ourselves.”

Katla briefly looked like she was going to stand her ground – or maybe was a bit furious about being defied – but ultimately relented. “Fine. They came from the south, but Baldur, their clan leader, rarely fights on one front. He vill likely have a second or even a third sqvad come from another side vhile most of my men are busy vith the initial assault. If you two can oversee de northvest side of de lake, I’ll take de south and Viggo will keep watch over de northeast.”

“Copy.”

She was about to turn with Cedric when Katla took her strongly by the arm, stopping her. “Please Saffron… And Cedric… be careful.”

Saffron regarded her for a moment… and then smirked. “Trust me, these assholes have no idea what’s coming. By the time we’re done with them, they’re going to wish they stayed home this morning.” With a playful salute, and doing her best to ignore the lingering effects of her hangover, she rushed out the door with Cedric.

Saffron stared her mother down defiantly, her look making it clear in no uncertain terms that she was going to do what she wanted, regardless of Katla’s wishes. The woman could either make use of it or cope with whatever the two guests chose to do. There were no other options. Katla was not pleased at all by the disobedience, but unfortunately for her there really wasn’t time to argue it. So instead, she pointed them in a direction, stating that this Baldur fellow liked to split his enemy’s forces by working on multiple fronts. With the four of them covering the three major approaches to the town, they should be able to stay ahead of his game.

Cedric and Saffron took off in the direction that they’d been assigned, the pair moving quickly to find a vantage where they could easily get a look in the most likely areas that another team would be coming from. And sure enough, they had only been in place a few minutes before another squad of raiders was spotted in the distance heading their direction. Cedric playfully remarked about how he’d just been thinking that the only thing this little reunion had been missing was a bloodbath, causing Saffron to snort, even as he materialized an energy sword. “Listen, if these idiots want to give me a reason to let out a bit more of all my pent up frustration, I’m sure not going to stop them. Though they could have at least waited until my hangover was gone.”

He put a hand on her shoulder and teleported them out to meet the incoming warriors, who practically skidded to a halt in surprise. Cedric greeted them in friendly fashion, giving them a chance to be able to return back to their own homes and families alive. They glanced around briefly at one another… only to let out a war cry and charge forward once more. Saffron slammed her fists together, and a piece of her robotic limb slivered and rolled out onto her other hand until it formed the bracer she used on her off hand. “Welp, can’t say you didn’t try,” she offered.

As Cedric got to work, Saffron did the same. Fighting back the lingering effects of her prior night’s partying, she ran forward to engage a wave of Iser at once. They were a fairly ragtag looking bunch, dressed in traditional Iser garb with furs and leathers, as well as carrying an assortment of weapons, though none of it was as high quality as that of Katla’s or her soldiers. Even at a slight disadvantage with her hangover, it didn’t really take a whole lot of effort to put them down. Their weapons were easily dodged, or parried with her synthetic arm. And much like her partner, Saffron wasn’t holding back from killing. Even if these raiders hadn’t been putting the lives of the villagers at risk, she could only imagine that every Iser warrior killed was another chunk out of Pergrande’s potential resources and allies. So she aimed her blows in vital areas, crushing skulls and using the knife in her right arm to stab and slice at major arteries until she was just as responsible for the amount of blood stains in the field as Cedric was.

“Is this feeling a little anticlimactic to you?” she finally asked Cedric, kicking an Iser so hard in the back that his spine snapped. He cried out in agony, instantly paralyzed and falling face first into the ground. Saffron stepped over him and unleashed a couple energy bullets from her bracer into his head, giving him a quick death and putting him out of his misery. Her mother had seemed more than a little panicked, but these guys were turning out to be a bit of a joke. If the first assault was a distraction, she’d have figured the secondary strike teams would have had the heavier hitters, meaning either Saffron’s view of strength was vastly skewed in comparison to Katla’s, or this Baldur guy wasn’t as good at strategy as they’d been led to believe.

“Vell, if you’re looking for somet’ing more vert’vhile, pieni aurinko, I’d be happy to satisfy.” Saffron whirled around to find someone new had approached while they were busy practically shooting fish in a barrel. He easily stood out from the others they’d been fighting thus far, broad chested and above average in height, with short dark hair and a thick, neatly trimmed beard and mustache. He wore a vest made of the finest quality veg tan leather, with thick fur trim and gold embellishments in the shape of a lion’s face. A fur wrap around his hips was set over a thick pair of brown pants with the skull of some kind of animal acting as a buckle. Around his wrists and legs were leather bracers reinforced with bone, and another large skull acted as a paldron on one of his shoulders. There was also a necklace around his chest, which was bare through his vest despite the cold, from which hung a row of very large teeth. His accent was thick but he was otherwise fluent in Fioren, and he had a light but confident smirk on his face as he observed both her and Cedric with interest.

Saffron grimaced in disgust, both at his euphamism as well as his over the top appearance. “Yick. Pass.” Yet she still turned to face him all the same. “I’m gonna assume just based on all the gaudy taxidermy you’re carrying that you’re Baldur?”

His smirk deepened. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage. Katla has been a busy little hawk, I see. You are bot' far more skilled than her usual assortment of lackeys. Vhere did she find you, I vonder? One vit’ de look of an Iser but de accent of an easterner, and de ot’er a foreigner from Ca-Elum.” Baldur glanced between Cedric and Saffron curiously.

The blonde groaned in exasperation. “Listen buddy, I’m sure you think you’re super clever or whatever, but I just can’t be fucked to humor you right now. Literally too hungover to deal with all the cringe you’re dripping with. I will actually pay you to shut up.” She wouldn’t of course, but Saffron had never been very good at keeping her sass in check during a fight, particularly with assholes of this caliber.

Baldur narrowed his gaze on her, though his expression was more a mixture of amusement and intrigue. “You have a bit of a mouth on you,” he observed, clearly pleased.  “Please, by all means. If you vould like me to shut up, I invite you bot’ to make me. I may even take you vit’ me vhen I return home, as payment for all de varriors you took from me.” He lowered his spear into a ready position, pointing it toward them with one hand, steady and level. “Come, pieni aurinko. And you, swordsman. Let us see how de gods veigh your scales.” With his challenge issued, Baldur waited, giving them the courtesy of the first attack.

How did these creeps always find her? Saffron was seriously starting to wonder if she had some sort of magical magnet for cocky, overconfident assholes. He lowered his spear in their direction, inviting them to take their best shot and expressing his consideration toward collecting them up afterward like some kind of consolation prize. It was Cedric who responded, insisting that they had more important things to do before apologizing and promising to see Baldur off. Before their foe could so much as raise an eyebrow, the former Dread Master aimed a concentrated blast of ethernano at him.

The area where Baldur stood simply exploded. Smoke and billows of snow filled the air, reducing visibility and probably drawing the notice of everyone in the settlement. Saffron winced, her ears ringing slightly from the detonation, if only because she was extra sensitive to loud noises at the moment. Coughing from breathing in the smoke, she waved a hand in front of her face in an attempt to fan it away. “That was a little overkill, don’t ya think?” Not that she was upset about avoiding another scuffle. After another couple seconds of waiting, Saffron snorted. “Alright well, I guess let’s go tell mom that’s taken care of. We can see if she needs help driving anyone else ou–”

“Mom..?” Baldur’s voice spoke calmly from the epicenter of the smoke as it began to clear, his tone thoughtful as he repeated the word. Saffron’s head snapped back in his direction in surprise, the girl instinctively dropping down into a readied stance. When he came into view, he was still standing in the same spot, a slight smirk upon his lips and nary a scratch on him. “Ah, I see de resemblance now. You are Katla’s daughter? Fascinating. I vas under de assumption dat she had lost all her children a long time ago.”

Ignoring Saffron’s glare, he turned his attention to Cedric. “It seems de scales are not tipped in your favor. Óheppni, my friend. Hvernig ætlarðu að drepa guði mína ef þú getur ekki fyrst?” He chuckled, sinking into a low combat stance with his spear at the ready, his posture steady and unwavering. “I guess you vill have to try a little harder.”

Baldur rushed them, the large man unthinkably quick and agile in the snow. He moved so fast that Saffron was nearly caught on her heels, stepping back and bending over to avoid his spearpoint as he sliced it in a wide arc in front of him at both of his opponents. “Son of a–” she managed to mutter before he was following up his attack with another. The Iser’s spear was a blur as he expertly twisted it around, pushing himself forward to press them both back in an attempt to keep them on the defensive.

The blonde wasn’t totally off her game, but she also wasn’t exactly fighting at her best, particularly since the couple dozen Iser they’d killed previous to this hadn’t exactly done much by way of damage. As a result, she couldn’t move quickly enough to stay ahead of his attacks. Saffron raised her arms to block the butt end of his spear as it came swinging around toward her head, but Baldur shifted at the last second. The pole of the weapon dropped down and slapped against her stomach instead, sending the Fairy Tail mage flying back several dozen meters and crashing a hole into someone’s house.

The Iser didn’t spare any time and attention to admire how far he’d knocked Saffron, turning instead to focus all of his attention on Cedric for the time being. Without having to split his attacks between two people, the speed of his maneuvers only increased. The weapon all but danced in his hands as he struck time and again with both ends of the spear testing Cedric’s defenses and response times with an elated grin. Planting his forward foot, he dipped the business end of the spear down and sliced it upward, aiming to carve Cedric from groin to collar if the former Dread Master didn’t move out of the way quickly enough, following the attack with a swift and precise thrust toward the sternum.

“Cheapshotting son of a bitch…” Saffron growled and rolled over onto her stomach to push herself back up onto her feet. Debris and broken furniture crumbled to the floor around her as she stood; whosever home she’d crashed into, it was a mess, now. Luckily no one seemed to have been home for the time being, so she hadn’t hurt anyone by accident. Now more annoyed than anything else, she pushed back the distractions from her lingering inebriation and trudged through the rubble toward the hole in the house. Something felt… odd. But she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Meanwhile, Cedric and Baldur had continued their brawl, with the latter proving himself a persistent opponent despite the fact that he hadn’t appeared to use any magic so far. The former Dread Master stepped out of the way of the spear’s upward stroke, before managing to block the forward thrust with a magic shield. Cedric chuckled and remarked about working up a sweat, and Baldur’s only reaction was for his smile to deepen, the man clearly more pleased than disappointed that his opponent was providing a challenge.

The force of Cedric’s aura igniting pushed Baldur away, causing him to slide back several meters in the snow, his heels digging in – along with his spear – to make sure he didn’t get thrown back too far. He beheld Cedric’s transformation with an elated look. “Yes! Vonderful!” the Iser complimented, genuinely impressed as he reset his stance, meeting Cedric grin for grin at the procurement of a large magical scythe.

When Cedric charged him, Baldur swiftly moved on the defensive, meeting the swings of the magical weapon blow for blow with his spear, blocking and deflecting in tandem with Cedric’s movements without attempting any strikes of his own. A lesser fighter may have assumed that Baldur was getting pushed back and forced on the defensive, but trained eyes would know that was not the case. The Iser was certainly having to put effort into his defense, but he did not appear to be on the ropes. If anything, he was studying Cedric, giving the man a chance to show his skill so he could appreciate what he was capable of, and simply enjoying the fight for what it was.

For a moment it looked like Cedric was about to land a decisive blow. Baldur miscalculated an attack, allowing the scythe to slip past the spear’s block. However, right before the strike could hit its intended destination, Baldur reached out and caught the edge of the blade with his bare hand, stopping the magical weapon in its tracks. Despite the fact that his hand should have been lopped off, he didn’t appear to even be bleeding, though his muscles were bulging and quivering from the effort of fighting back against the weight that Cedric himself was driving into his swing.

Still grinning more out of excitement than anything else, Baldur opened his mouth to say something… only for him to catch movement out of his peripheral vision. The Fairy Tail mage was dropping down from above with a charged fist, looking to catch him while he was tied up with Cedric. Disengaging, Baldur leaped back and out of the way of them both. Saffron’s fist drove into the snow, causing it to explode into a small cloud of fog, partially shrouding the area for a moment. Keeping Cedric at her back, she glanced around for Baldur, trying to pinpoint him, but she couldn’t get a read on him anywhere with her senses.

He wouldn’t take long to reveal himself. Baldur burst from the fog, making a beeline right for Saffron, re-engaging her with the same level of enthusiasm as he had with Cedric. The blonde adjusted quickly and went fully on the defensive. It was her typical strategy, allowing her opponent to get in several hits while putting her focus toward making sure they didn’t deliver any lethal damage, so she could benefit from the added strength she built up from the kinetic energy of their attacks. And with the power behind the blows he dealt, it wouldn’t take long for her skills to increase to a level that Baldur would have trouble keeping up with.

Or at least… that’s how it should have worked.

The more Saffron continued to get hit, however, the more she felt that something odd was going on until eventually it dawned on her: She wasn’t absorbing any energy from him. Saffron had already surmised that Baldur wasn’t a mage as he didn’t seem to have any kind of energy signature that she could track. Her assumption was that he was some kind of combat arts user. But that shouldn’t have mattered; any hit she took, magical or mundane, should have been fueling her own magical abilities, but it wasn’t. There was absolutely no payoff from letting him beat on her.

While she didn’t say anything, there was a growing look of confusion and frustration on her face. What the heck was up with this guy? Scrambling to both find an answer to what was going on, and knowing that it was useless to let him just keep hitting her without reward, Saffron attempted to switch gears, throwing in a few jabs and strikes of her own between the thrusts of his weapon. But the more she fought, the more apparent it became that she was still fighting at the same level that she had been from the start… and as a result, she was having quite a bit of trouble keeping up with the Iser.