It took another bell of walking to cross the village and the extensive farmlands surrounding it, with Niala waking up mid-way, complaining her legs had cramped up and requesting to be princess-carried the rest of the way.

  David instead slung her over his shoulder and kept walking as she kicked and complained. The few villagers they crosseed along the way gave the couple a suspicious glare, which quickly turned to a complicit smile when Niala sheepishly waved at them from David's back.

  They stopped by a small copse of trees, a few minutes out from the estate's entrance. David let Niala down, planting a kiss on her forehead in response to her annoyed glare thrown his way, before unfolding his courier tool cargo cloth and retrieving something from it, his back turned toward Niala.

  Curiosity winning over, she tried to peek over David's shoulder, but he'd already rolled back up his cloth, the tool he needed hidden in his hand.

  “What did you get?” She asked.

  “Hmm. It's called the Who Are You. It's something that will disguise my face, in case the guards might recognize me.” He fiddled with something, got up, and turned around to face Niala.

  On his face was a pair of thick-rimmed glasses with a clearly fake beard attached to it.

  Niala blinked, then folded in half. “MWAHAHA! You look ridiculous! What is that thing?! It's so stupid!” She guffawed, trying to keep pointing a finger at him.

  He blinked, “...What? Aren't you seeing a different face?”

  “Nooo-ahahaha! It's just a stupid pair of glaaaa-hahaha! Glasses with a woollen bea-mppppfffhahahaha!”

  David took off the apparatus from his face, looking at it and scratching his head. “That's strange. It worked fine in the past...” He looked at Niala, who was wiping tears off her eyes. “Here, you try it.” He said, holding out the glasses.

  She glanced up, and fought her laughter for a moment, eventually getting it back under control, and taking the gadget, putting it over her face, adjusting its fit and looking at David.

  “So, what do I-pffft, what do I look like? Hehe...”

  He stared blankly, “...like a Niala with a stupid pair of glasses. I don't get it. Is it broken?” He whispered, taking the glasses off his girlfriend and observing them.

  Smiling, she tilted her head, her ears wiggling. “Hey, why is that thing's name so different from your other mysterious tools?”

  He glanced at her, “The enchanter who made the Who Are You was a renowned prankster and trickster. All his creations have those kinds of names. The other one I have from him is called the Where's My Keys.”

  “Let me guess; it makes you forget where your keys are?”

  He shook his head. “No, it's a key that takes on the shape and form of the last key it touched. Most of his creations had misleading names.” He answered, shaking the glasses and huffing, putting them back on.

  She snorted, keeping herself from breaking into laughter again. “You really look silly with that thing on, but...” She tilted her head, her eyes suddenly pensive. “I think you'd look good with a beard.”

  He looked at her, the movement of his head making the woollen beard sway, Niala puffing and giggling as it did.

  In the end, he went and found a villager, having a short conversation with them, and returned to the copse. The local hadn't reacted to the fake beard at all, which meant it had to be working, just not between Niala and David.

  He shrugged; as long as it worked on the guards at the gate.

  Leaving the copse with Niala in tow, they marched down the last stretch of road toward the estate. As they approached, David's steps became stiffer, his body tensing up, as his memories from eight years ago bubbled up to the surface.

  He had been a young teenager, barely fourteen, thrown out and abandoned at the moment he had felt his most vulnerable, most ashamed.

  He thought he'd gotten over it, after all that time, but seeing the massive iron gate squeezed his lungs, his breathing strained. It was the threshold, the sheer that split his life in two. On this side, terrible freedom. On the other, suffocating control.

  A hand clasped over his arm. He looked to his side, seeing a smiling catkin walking by his side, a pair of bright amethyst eyes peering into him. He smiled back, looked toward the gate, took a deep breath and resumed the marching, having stopped without realizing it.

  The Wardenfel guards at the gate watched them approach, one of them taking a few steps forward and in front of them.

  “Halt. Announce yourself, and the reason for your visit.”

  David put on his most courteous smile. “Ah, my name is David Wayman, I'm a Free courier by trade, and I'm here on official courier business. A posting, to bring a person of interest to Lord Isaac Wardenfel.”

  The guard narrowed his eyes, looking from David to the catkin girl next to him. He pointed toward her with his chin. “Would that be the person of interest?”

  David nodded. “She would.”

  “And what makes her interesting?”

  “She's an alchemist of certain skills. Worked at the All Brew's company in Majestic for several years, specializing in healing and remedies. The posting asked for a person such as her. For what purpose, it did not say.”

  The guards glanced at each other. The closest one turned his eyes back to David. “And do you have proof of what you're saying?”

  The courier shook his head. “I'm afraid it was a private posting. See, I'm a rather highly-ranked Courier, and Lord Isaac apparently asked the waystation for the best, so here I am. I'm sure if you query Lord Isaac, he will corroborate my story.” David said, winking.

  The guard stared him down. “I'm afraid Lord Isaac is rather busy at this moment.”

  David winced. “Well, if that is so... the posting said it was urgent, and I had assumed, since the task was to retrieve a skilled healer, that someone's life was at stake, but if you feel it can wait, there's nothing to be done, right? I will report to the local Courier waystation. They'll be able to find me. Good day, gentlemen.”

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  On that, David turned and left, Niala bowing to the guards and doing the same.

  “Wait.” One of the guards called before he'd taken three steps.

  David stopped and faced the guards, quirking an eyebrow in silence.

  The older of the two sighed, looking at the younger one. “Albert, go inside, get Julius to ask the lord if this guy's story is true, and come back. As for you,” The guard said, turning his head toward David. “You and the miss stay here, and your story better be true.”

  David smiled and nodded, throwing a glance at Niala, who could do nothing but keep her mouth shut, the corner of her lips twitching almost imperceptibly.

  He swore he could hear her laughter coming through their link.

  Isaac recognized the name David Wayman and quickly guessed that this meant his older brother had decided to come visit him.

  David Wardenfel was barred from entry to the estate by order of his father, Jacob, but since this was David Wayman, and his description didn't match his brother's at all...

  He had them brought to his private study, instructing Julius to keep his mouth shut about Niala. His valet had a rather good memory for visages and names, and even if he'd only briefly seen her in Riverwall, he was certain he'd recognize her.

  The courier and catkin were soon brought to his study, Isaac dismissing his valet and turning his attention to the two. Niala was as he'd remembered her, although she seemed a bit tense, her features strained. The man... had the body shape of David, but the face was another man's. A bit older, a few more wrinkles, the nose was too big, and the eyes were the wrong colour.

  Isaac arced an eyebrow at the smiling courier. “Mr. Wayman, I'm told?”

  David nodded, and Niala stifled a laugh. The young noble turned his head toward her. “Is something funny, Ms. Niala?”

  She looked up, suppressing her mirth. “No, no, sorry, Isaac, it's just...”

  “Lord Isaac. You might be my brother's woman, but proper address must be upheld.” He reproached her.

  She blinked. “Oh! I'm sorry, Lord Isaac! It's just, I saw you and David bicker like little kids, and then hug, and both acting like big boys and holding back your tears even though you clearly wanted to cry and-”

  “Ms. Niala.” He growled. “There is nothing proper about your demeanour right now. Control yourself.” Isaac warned.

  Niala meeped and nodded. “I'm sorry, Lord Isaac. I'll do better.”

  The young noble let his eyes linger on her as he turned his head back toward his... was it his brother?

  “Can I assume this is a... disguise? Or are you really not the David I know?”

  “Oh, no, that's me,” David said, taking off his disguising glasses. To Isaac, the man's face appeared to be ripped off, only to reveal his brother's face underneath. When he blinked and looked at the fake face held in David's hand, all he saw was a pair of black lensless glasses with a fake woollen beard.

  “Ah... a Courier's tool?”

  “It is, yes.”

  “Interesting... although, not as interesting as the reason for you being here. What are you doing here, brother?” Isaac asked.

  “You said father was sick.”

  The young noble squinted. “He is,” He glanced at Niala. “Do you mean to tell me you want your alchemist girlfriend to try and cure him?” Isaac said dismissively, his expression turning souré. “Do you not think we contacted all of the best and most renowned healers throughout the kingdom? The Royal physicians were loaned to us by the Royal family, and even they said it was a natural, incurable disease, that father could only be made to feel less pain and prolong his life by a year at most.”

  By the end, the fire in Isaac's voice had cooled to smouldering embers, his ire redirected to something else.

  David remained silent for a moment. “Looks like I don't need to tell you, then. To be honest, I'm not even sure I want her to even try.”

  The young noble's fire reignited. “What?! Did you come all this way just to taunt me, brother?” The last word spoken through his teeth.

  David shook his head. “No, nothing of the sort. Think. If Niala can cure Father, what do you think he might try to do?”

  Isaac eyed his brother suspiciously before letting his mind process the question, putting his hand over his chin.

  “Father would see her as a useful resource and try to claim her for the house. A miracle alchemist that can cure the incurable.” The young noble surmised, his eyes softening as he talked.

  David nodded. “Or something to the effect. Either way, I'm not giving up Niala to anyone, and you saw, or heard, what I can do now. This family turned its back on me. If it tries to come after me and mine, I will have no restraint in my response.”

  Isaac's features hardened. “Is that a threat, David?”

  “Not a threat, a promise.” He sustained his brother's glare for a second before sighing and dropping his gaze. “Look, I'm not here to fight. I'm nearly certain Niala can cure Father. I'm asking you... Do you want him to be cured?”

  Isaac recoiled at the implication. “What...” He exclaimed, before gritting his teeth. “Of course I do! Be careful what you say, brother. I would have had lesser men sent to the dungeon for insinuating what you just did!” He warned.

  David held up his hands. “Peace. I wasn't saying you wanted him dead. It's just that... I know the kind of man our father is. Right now, if I understand, you're the acting patriarch. You have freedom to act. If Jacob Wardenfel gets back to his feet, you'll be under his yoke once more.”

  Isaac kept glaring, his jaw working, chewing on his immediate reply.

  As much as he hated to admit... his brother was right. Jacob was a powerful man, and powerful men directed. They directed their lives, and the lives of those nearby, and nobody was as close as Isaac.

  Still... If his father could take back the mantle of rule on his shoulders... Isaac wouldn't be as free, but the crushing weight he felt every day would lighten; he would have more time to learn to cope with it.

  “I want him cured, David.” Isaac finally said.

  His brother nodded. “Then, I'm asking something else; find a way to keep Niala and me out of his reach. Make him sign a contract, hide our involvement, curse him, I don't care. Don't let his greed lead to a conflict he can't afford.”

  Isaac locked gaze with his brother, scenarios running through his mind.

  He nodded. “I'll make sure of it, but only if your girl can actually cure him. If she can't, I want you to come back to the family once he dies, and help me with its rule, as you claim you wanted to do before your exile.”

  Niala inhaled sharply, looking up at David wide-eyed. “David, what if I can't...”

  He held up a hand, cutting her off, as he looked back, smiling. “You can. You're the best alchemist in the kingdom.”

  “I'm the second-”

  “The best. Your father went and threw himself off a bell tower because he realized you'd surpassed him. If that's not endorsement, I don't know what is.”

  She stared at him blank-faced before narrowing her eyes at his. Her scowl met his smile on the field of battle.

  His smile won. She slumped and exhaled. “Fine. I'm the best alchemist...”

  Isaac watched the interaction with furrowed brows. Second-best alchemist? Best alchemist?

  “Brother, aren't you exaggerating? Cornelius the All Brew is most commonly recognized as the best Alchemist. Are you saying this woman is more skilled? And who in their sane mind would throw themselves off a tower to endorse their daughter's skills? What kind of man even is he? He... wait, surpass...” Isaac's brows rose, his eyes widening as the words connected in his mind.

  “Are you saying that Niala is...”

  “Niala All Brew, that's correct. Please keep it a secret.”

  Isaac could do nothing but stare slack-jawed at the catkin. The daughter of one of the most influential men on the continent, rivalling most noble houses in how far his voice reached.

  The father of the woman he'd been criminally disrespectful toward.

  Isaac looked up from the blushing and shrinking woman and at David.

  His brother had the most infuriating grin on his face.

  David was, indeed, thoroughly enjoying this.