The woman turned with a confused look that bloomed into a wide grin when she saw Alara’s face.

  Wellynd joined alongside them and couldn’t help but grin as well. Despite the short time that had passed, it felt like he hadn’t seen Neera in years.

  “Good evening, apprentice.” he feigned a bow, “though...Where's the robes? Don’t tell me you flunked out already.”

  Alara pushed him, “Pff. You think she’d fail? No if anyone it’d be Bertr...oh hey Bert!” she winked.

  Bertrand Snellium walked through the front door of Mermaid’s, a tankard in his hand. “Ha. ha. Very funny barkeep. You here lookin’ for another tavern job?” he smiled, “Come here!” he splayed his arms wide and came in for a hug, ale splashing out of his mug as he wrapped his arms around Alara.

  “What are you guys doing here?” asked Wellynd, patting Bertrand on the shoulder. “Nowhere to get a drink a little closer to the Observatory?”

  Neera and Bertrand shared a look.

  “We’ve been coming here for quite a while now. We’d remembered you always talking about it and it’s kind of become our watering hole. The Observatory can get a little…stuffy…sometimes” offered Neera.

  “What she’s trying to say is that we’ve quickly learned that a lot of the mainlanders at the Observatory don’t really like Illuvians. Especially ones that are miles ahead of them in all their classes.” Bertrand gestured his mug toward Neera. “The Observers themselves are great, and most of the upper-year students are pretty helpful too, but our cohort has been a little rough. They were fine with me at first, I guess because my dad and all, but when they started trying to isolate Neer, I told them to stick it. Some of them have started to warm up to us, like Mesa...wait where’s Mesa?” asked Bertrand, looking around.

  The girl who Neera had been helping climbed off the barrel, and stumbled into Bertrand “Berty! Where have you been all my life!” Her mane of curly red hair falling into his chest. Even in the dim light, Wellynd could see Bertrand’s face turning red.

  “Hi Mesa” said Wellynd. The girl turned. She had a wide face and large green eyes. She furrowed her brow. “Who’re you?” she slurred “Berty’s not goin’ off to war. He said he’s gonna marry me.”

  Wellynd arched his eyebrow and grinned at his friend “Did he now?” Bertrand’s face somehow grew even redder.

  “Alright, alright, let’s go back inside shall we? Looks like you’ve got a fresh face to introduce as well.” said Bertrand, nodding at Kellog with a questioning look as he guided Mesa back inside.

  Wellynd turned back to see Kellog had wandered over towards the conveyor and was looking underneath it.

  “Kellog!” said Wellynd “We’re going inside.” The man straightened up and sauntered back over. “It really is a marvel of a device. All kose operated. Incredible.” he said, as they followed after Neera and Alara, who had linked arms and were chatting excitedly as they entered the tavern.

  The familiar smell of stale beer and cigar smoke overtook Wellynd as soon as he entered the Tavern. The tables were crammed full of patrons, playing cards and drinking games or immersed in overly fond conversations. The owner of the tavern, Uther, sat in the corner next to the door, surrounded by friends, his large boots casually resting atop the table. He gave a wave to Wellynd as he entered, who returned the wave with a grin.

  “We were lucky and got the snug tonight. Can you grab us some drinks, Welly?” asked Neera, before following after the other three toward the private booth at the other end of the tavern.

  Wellynd walked to the bar and waited for the barkeep, Pike Trembol, to finish serving some other customers. For a moment, he thought he’d lost Kellog, but soon spotted him chatting with a group of what looked like warehouse workers, somehow having already been offered a drink and a spot at their table. The man seemed uncannily talented at quickly making friends.

  “What will it be, dear Well! It’s been a while” came a honeyed voice from behind him. Wellynd turned to find Pike grinning at him. He was an average size man with well-manicured goatee and his long hair pulled back into a tight knot atop his head.

  “Hey Pike, it has. Uhm, a round of ale for everyone in the snug…that’ll be six of us altogether I think. How have things been?” Wellynd asked as he fished around in his cloak for his coin pouch.

  Pike held up his hand “Your gold’s no good, young Bert has made a tab.” He started to pour the ale. “And Revenshore has seen better days, my friend. Every word is spoke with muted distress, and Vertan bronze pervades all hours of the day” Pike slid a tankard over to Wellynd and leaned in “I fear the worst is yet to come of this. I hope that I am wrong.” he gave Wellynd a sad smile and nodded towards the other tankards “I’ll bring the rest”.

  “Thanks Pike. I hope so too.” Wellynd took a sip of his ale. Though Pike had always been a somber, and slightly strange, man, he did have exceptionally good sense on the pulse of life in the city. The new blockade that The Flea had encountered supported the barkeep’s worries of an escalation.

  Wellynd took a deeper drink of the ale. He needed to focus on his own problems and not the ones he couldn’t solve.

  Waving at Kellog to join him, he made his way into the snug, sliding in beside Alara and Neera, who were still deep in conversation. Across from them, Mesa had already passed out, her head resting on Bertrand’s shoulder.

  “Where’s the ale, fishguts?” jibed Bertrand, as he carefully shifted Mesa’s position so she would be resting against the side of the booth.

  “Oh. There’s the Bert I know. For a moment, I thought my friend had been replaced by some heart-struck courtier professing his love from the rooftops.” riposted Wellynd, clasping his hands together and puckering his lips.

  Again, colour rushed to Bertrand’s cheeks “Yeah, yeah real funny. Mesa’s super smart, and my Dad’s done business on the continent with some of her family before.”

  “Sure, sure. Just let me know when the wedding is so I can make sure I’m here for it.” said Wellynd “Ale’s on its way.”

  Bertrand nodded “Here, eh? Planning on going somewhere else sometime soon?”

  This time Wellynd was the one to grow red “Well, no. I mean maybe. I don’t know yet. Not sure I want to be working The Brinebreaker the rest of my life. That’s all.”

  At that moment, Kellog walked into the snug and slid in next to Bertrand, who, clearly not knowing how to react, awkwardly proffered his hand.

  Kellog shook it vigorously “You must be Bertrand, heir apparent to the mine on the island. I’m Kellog, heir to nothing.”

  Bertrand frowned at Wellynd “Yeah. That’s me. Nice to meet you? How’d you two meet?”

  Wellynd raised a finger and got up and closed the door to the snug. Alara and Neera stopped chatting.

  Wellynd sat back down.

  “I met him in the cave where…the incident…happened.”

  Neera craned her head around Alara “What? Why’d you go back?”

  “Yeah. My Dad told us to forget about it. Are you crazy?” added Bertrand.

  Wellynd shrugged. “A lot of things have happened since you guys left. I had to go back. I’m not going to explain why now, but all I’ll say is that Kellog is helping me figure out what’s…wrong…with me.” He hesitated at using the word “wrong”, because he wasn’t quite sure that his issues were much of problem as they were a mystery, but he figured it wasn’t the time to discuss that.

  The table was silent for a moment. Finally, Neera spoke up “Okay…Kellog, why were you in the cave though?”

  Kellog chuckled as he finished off the tankard he’d received from the warehouse workers “You Illuvian’s are an inquisitive bunch. In short, anomalies, like the ones that were created by Welly here, are the sort of things I investigate.”

  “He’s an observer, too.” added Wellynd.

  “Though, not formally for many years now.” Kellog corrected.

  “Wait,” interjected Bertrand “I thought Neera was the one who stopped the boulders from falling.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Neera shook her head at Bertrand “Nope. I’ve never brought it up because we weren’t supposed to talk about it, but it was Welly.”

  “Hmm.” replied Bertrand, crossing his arms “You know, from everything I’ve learned in our classes, and everything I’ve read, what happened there shouldn’t be possible.”

  “I’ve discovered the same thing” said Neera, looking curiously at Bertrand “I didn’t know you were investigating it too, Bert.”

  The magnate’s son shrugged “I was curious about what happened. Didn’t think it was Welly though. Here I was thinking you’d end up mopping the deck and wearing an eyepatch, and it turns out you’ve done something no Observer has ever been able to figure out. Probably still smell like fishguts, though...” he leaned forward and made a show of wafting the air towards him “yup.”

  Alara, who had been relatively silent during the whole conversation, kicked Bertrand under the table “Don’t be annoying.”

  Wellynd, who was beginning to feel the pleasant effects of the ale, patted Alara’s arm “It’s okay, I obviously have god-like powers, so I can take it.”

  Everyone laughed, which shook Mesa back to consciousness, so they dropped the topic for the time being. Soon after that, the ale came. Pike had gotten distracted and forgotten them for a while, so he brought them all two tankards each.

  The next several hours were some of the best Wellynd could remember. Every time someone got up to use the latrine or grab another round, another person would shuffle over and converse with their new neighbor, whether they were catching up or making a new friend. Wellynd learned from Mesa that her family had originally lived in the Vertan part of the continent and had moved to Vel Megnum when the nations split in two. She had been sent to Revenshore to avoid the much more incendiary political turmoil that engulfed the western part of the continent.

  He also learned that she really was, at least in her drunken state, in love with Bertrand.

  What was even more surprising was that, from what he could tell, Bertrand was in love with Mesa too.

  Wellynd found it hard to believe that his friend, who was so well-known for his pretentious and quarrelsome behaviour, could so quickly soften. They’d already been discussing plans for where they might live after their tenure at the Observatory. Bertrand also talked about their first semester of classes. Apparently, he’d been doing well, which Wellynd knew meant he’d been doing fine.

  Neera on the other hand, as Bertrand had alluded to earlier, was considered by most to be near prodigious. She tried to play it down, but Bertrand overheard and went on about how bad she was making everyone else look.

  Mesa confirmed this.

  What struck Wellynd the most, however, was how comfortable she seemed here. Just as he felt about himself, though for different reasons, Neera always felt out of place in Kellek’s Watch, like she had so much to offer the world and couldn’t do it from a tiny island so far from the halls of power and opportunity.

  For his part, Kellog was relaxed and, being much older than everyone else, sat back and seemed to just enjoy the sound of conversation. His nonchalance, however, didn’t stop Neera, Bertrand, and Mesa from trying to pick his brain. At times, Wellynd couldn’t help but feel a lingering envy at the discussions their shared education afforded them.

  Alara, too, seemed to have lively conversation with everyone, except Kellog. Every now and then Wellynd would catch her watching the man with an appraising stare. Where her suspicions arose from, Wellynd wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to dampen the spirits of the night, so he decided he wouldn’t bring it up until the next day.

  Several hours into the night, when Wellynd had gone to the bar, partly for another drink, and partly to escape the small confines of the snug, Neera approached him, leaning up against the bar beside him.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something.” she said, the sway in her stance not unnoticeable.

  “Sure, Neer. What’s up?”

  She stood up straighter, and hiccoughed. She was clearly trying to resist the effects of the ale.

  “I’ve been…reading at the library…” she looked around conspiratorially.

  Wellynd laughed “Yes, you’re a student. I don’t think anyone’s going to have a problem with that.”

  She held up her hand. “Listen…listen...I think that...your problem...it’s because of...well…it’s complicated…I’m not sure…”

  “Neer, I already told you. Kellog and I have pretty much figured out my problem. My mantle…it’s different.” Wellynd started.

  Neera shook her head “No...no...not your mantle…though I’d like to hear about that, but it's to do with the Eikons…I think there's…well I’ll show you…but…you have to see.”

  Wellynd threw his arm around his friend. “I appreciate that Neer. I really do. Let’s talk about it in the morning. Okay?”

  Neera leaned into him “I can’t…I have…I’ll show you.” She stopped talking.

  “Show me what?”

  Somehow, she had passed out leaning against Wellynd. He shook her. She came to, standing up straight.

  “You good?” Wellynd laughed.

  “Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

  “Maybe we slow down the drinking at this point?” Wellynd suggested.

  “Yeah, totally” Neera replied, a devious grin crawling across her face.

  --

  Several hours later, Neera, Alara, and Mesa spilled into the early morning air of Revenshore, their arms linked, singing the refrain of the night’s drinking song, Tippler’s Bellows.

  “...and when the forges light!” They sang.

  “...the drunkard's breath will do!” responded Wellynd, Bertrand, and Kellog as they burst through the doors in tow.

  “But come the morning bright!”

  “His missus wrath he’ll rue!”

  They all feigned clinking their mugs together in the air before bursting out into laughter.

  “Oh. Klof loves that song.” laughed Neera.

  “Wait…” Bertrand said, looking around “Where is Klof? How is Klof?”

  Wellynd waved his hand “He’s good, He’s good. Henry’s apprentice. He’ll be king of the wind in no time.”

  “I miss Klof…” said Neera “He should have come. Let’s go back to the island tonight and see him!”

  “Okay. Okay, okay...no more nonsense. Shhhh” Bertrand beckoned, catching up and putting his hand on Mesa’s back. “We’re going t’haf to be quiet if Torrel gon let us in without trouble.” he slurred, catching his foot on a step, and just barely recovering before falling headfirst into the girls.

  Alara turned and stuck out her tongue, while Neera’s singing crumbled into laughter.

  “Watch it Bert! Better sober up ‘fore we get in.” Neera called back.

  They continued up the conveyor path towards the Observatory, the sleepy streets growing to a dead quiet, save for their echoing laughter, as they gained distance from the main thoroughfare.

  As they neared the Observatory grounds, Neera scurried a few steps ahead, turning and posing as if she were formally welcoming the group as part of a ceremony.

  “Welcome to the Revenshore Observatory, o’ hallowed guests. Here, we turn the surreal into merely improbable, and the impossible into...”

  “into next week’s problem!” finished Bertrand.

  The group laughed as Neera jeered at Bertrand through a grin before continuing “This evening, I will be your humble host, guiding you through the magical art of sneaking into a military-guarded Observatory. Without further ado...” she performed a deep bow, and as her head passed below her hips, she lost balance and fell forward, catching the ground with her hands before completely falling to her side.

  Everyone laughed again, and Alara stepped forward to help Neera up.

  “Guess the walk didn’ sober you up, huh Neer.” snided Bertrand.

  He continued, “I, on the other hand, am perfectly fine.”

  He performed a similar bow, with slightly more balance, though he still wobbled as he dipped his head. “So if you’ll all follow me, we’ll get there in one piece.”

  Standing back up, Bertrand led them down the same path that Wellynd typically followed for his deliveries, to the back gate that spilled out into the rear courtyard and student dormitories.

  When they drew near, Bertrand gestured for them to wait, walking ahead to the lantern-lit gated archway and spoke to someone inside the guardhouse.

  While they waited for Bertrand to talk to the guard, Kellog pulled Wellynd aside “I would feel a little off sneaking into an Observatory this way, so I think I’ll head off and find some other rooms for the night. Maybe take another look at that conveyor. I’ll meet you back in the main hall at mid-morning tomorrow. I’m sure they won’t deny me entry.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely. Enjoy the remainder of the evenin...well…heh…morning I guess with your friends.” he turned to the rest of the group “it was lovely meeting with you all. Thank you for including me in your little reunion. I’ll be back tomorrow!” With that, he put his hands into his cloak pockets and wandered off into the night.

  “Who was that guy...” slurred Mesa. Wellynd shook his head as he turned his attention back to the guard booth, just in time to catch Bertrand holding out a small pouch. A hand accepted it and the gate swung open a moment later.

  Bertrand walked a few steps back towards the group and beckoned them forward.

  Save for a few whispered laughs, the group remained quiet as they entered the Observatory grounds. A few windows in the dormitories still flickered with lantern light, though the majority of the grounds were pitch dark.

  Their building was of old but solid stone construction, and Neera held the large wooden door open as they all filed in.

  The revelry of the evening’s reunion quickly lulled into exhaustion as Neera and Bertrand began to prepare makeshift bedding for their two guests.

  Wellynd yawned, accepting a balled-up robe from Neera as his pillow for the evening. Though he drank less than everyone else, he felt the weight of a long day’s travel and a night of drinking settle into his eyelids.

  Before he laid on the floor mattress Neera hovered in the doorway behind him.

  “Hey, com’ere for a sec.” whispered Neera.

  Wellynd turned, tiptoeing out of the room past Alara, who was already fast asleep on the couch.

  She turned the dial down on the lantern, dimming the flame to a mere glow, before leading Wellynd to her room down the hall.

  “What’s up?” he whispered, but she just turned and shushed him.

  In her room, she pulled out a dark leather journal with a spine that had been dyed a bright yellow.

  She flipped it open, shuffling a handful of pages until she landed on one about midway through.

  “Here” she said, pointing at the page.

  “Neer, go to sleep. You can show me in the morning.”

  The room was dark, and Wellynd only saw the faint scribblings of her diagrams.

  He patted her on the shoulder and turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm.

  “Okay, but. Tomorrow. Look.”