The Emptied House

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Hiran thinks the city might be under siege again when he finds the Skill master on the other side of his door

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Hiran thinks the city might be under siege again when he finds the Skill master on the other side of his door. The old man looks like he's seen a ghost, or some kind of horror, and Hiran's just forming a query of concern when Ruben cuts through it in a flat whisper:

"I need your help."

Equal parts intrigued and perturbed, Hiran raises an eyebrow. While the prospect of the Skill master being in his debt is a good one, Hiran's not overly fond of his grave expression. Somehow, he doesn't think this request will fun.

Ruben's eyes flicker over Hiran's shoulder—he's checking to see if anyone else is around, anyone else can hear.

"We have to work quickly and no one can know about this. Especially Allayria."

Ooh.

"Well, if you want my help, I have to know," Hiran decides, pointing at himself for good measure.

"Hiran," the Skill master says, and Hiran is impressed at how level his tone is, even if it's edging into urgent, "I would not ask you for this unless it was important. If you care about Allayria and the safety of those around her, help me."

"Alright," he concedes, resolutely ignoring the pin-pricks of anxiety along his own spine. "Can you tell me at least what I'm helping you with?"

"We need to find a man in this city."

"Well, fortunately for you, there are plenty around."

"Hiran."

"Ok!" Hiran throws his hands up. "What man, then? Who are we looking for?"

"An innkeeper," Ruben answers. "He runs Old Man by the Sea down by the port, if it's still upright. He's old, stooped, with gray hair, and he uses a finely carved walking stick."

Hiran glances skeptically out the window to the dark, dreary city, the rubble of a nearby building's collapse clearly visible in its frame.

"Are you sure he survived all this?" he asks. "The port was the worst hit—"

"He's alive," Ruben cuts in. "We just have to find him."

This is, Hiran decides, the strangest rescue mission he's ever been on. As they travel south through the ruinous city streets he hazards the wild question: "So why are we looking for this man?" but, unsurprisingly, the Skill master is mum.

I wonder if Feuilles would know, he thinks, picking his way around a nasty pile up, some kind of market prior to the invasion. Hiran has noticed Ruben came to him, a Solveig man, and not Tara or Finn or even Lei.

What does that say about what he thinks about me, and what he thinks about them? Hiran wonders, watching the Skill master out of the corner of his eye. From what he said before, it sounds as if the old man is playing this one close to the chest, and he's decided Hiran is his best bet. 

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