Wings of Eden

Chapter Fifty One

By the time everyone returned, Quinn's nerves were taking over. This was the last set of royals in Ethforge. If they failed here, where would Eithien go next? Did the rest of Anethia even have a political structure? Rosvanii, the only organized structure in Te Fehr, was just made up of classes of scholars and nobles, gaining most of its wealth through a furtive relationship with the pulse industry. Freyhalt didn't even have a capital city; it was just hundreds of tribes of karjie, cyrines, and orcs. And Embrias? Nobody knew what in the gods' names went on there.

She was getting ahead of herself. If they failed here, they'd probably just die. Finding Eithien wouldn't matter much then.

Quinn shook her head, forcing the thoughts to dissolve. She couldn't fail. This was to protect everyone back in Greyhaven, and it was her only chance to find out about her family.

"Oi, Quinn, ye alright?" Mirtis asked, holding a couple of colorful bottles. One was a hideously vibrant pink. At his side, Elyria tilted her head in concern.

"I'm fine. Just going over strategies in my head," she lied, though she probably really should have been doing that. "What're those bottles for?"

"Healing potions, courtesy of Elyria." Mirtis handed her the pale purple one, then gave the bright pink one to Trelisti. "I chose the bottles, though."

Trelisti clenched his jaw, trying to hide a scowl.

"Thanks," he muttered through his teeth.

"Sorry about that," Elyria said, brushing a strand of hair out of her blushing face. She pulled a piece of fabric from her skirt pocket. "Anyway, I went ahead and put linen inside of each of the bottles, that way it's faster in an emergency. I know I'm speaking on deaf ears, but please, please stay safe."

"We will," Quinn assured her, ignoring the pinch of worry tightening in her chest. "We appreciate these."

"Oh, that reminds me," Trelisti said, perking up. He dug into his utility pouch, pulling a handful of vials out. There were two types, a fizzy blue one, and the other an acid-green.

"Drink the blue one now—it'll increase your base mana," he said, plopping one of each into Quinn and Mirtis' hands. He popped open the cork of his own, then downed it in one sip.

"The green one is a numbing agent. If you're in too much pain to fight, drink it."

"Tell me you didn't steal these," Quinn said, now noticing the handwritten tags he hadn't bothered to remove from the jars. Numbing agents were extremely expensive—she doubted he could afford one even with all of his guild savings.

"I...earned them. Through exceptional abilities and hard work," Trelisti answered, beaming at his description. She scorned.

"Well, erm," Elyria murmured, hesitating. The group went quiet for a moment. "I guess it's about time to go."

Quinn exhaled slowly, taking a second to mentally prepare herself. "Seems like it."

"Guess so," Mirtis said, squaring his shoulders. Even he looked uncomfortable.

"Oh, enough with the stalling," Trelisti said impatiently, beginning to walk off. Mirtis shrugged and started after him, then paused after one bouncy step.

"Ah—one more thing," said Mirtis, trotting over towards Quinn. He reached in his pocket, then dropped something heavy in her hand. She looked at it curiously, then lifted her head in a stunned appreciation. She hadn't actually expected Mirtis to give it to her.

Quinn tucked the gem into a hidden pocket, along with the green vial and frostrock.

"Let's go kick some ass."