Djurle marveled at the homestead that stood before him as Crispus passed the end of the half-harvested crop line.

“This is where you've been the last nine winters?”

Tecovis rode ahead of him in casual riding clothes, the horizon’s orange hues highlighting his red beard as he turned in his saddle to face Djurle.

“Yeah, sure is.”

“No wonder you stayed. I've seen a lot of farmhouses over the years, none like this.”

“That's what happens when everyone does their part.” He turned back to face the road

{Describe the house and barn, emphasize the party setup}

“What kind of wood are those supports made from? I've never seen anything like it.”

Tecovis's head cocked to one side, “I never asked. Maybe Aunt Abby or Zeb know. Speaking of, AUNT ABBY!”

Tecovis shouted to a woman with shoulders as broad as a mans and arms as thick as his wife's thigh, her skin was the same dark shade as Lieutenant Zebulon, and her curly black hair was tied up into a very poofy ponytail. She wore a burlap apron over what looked like padded work clothes. How she wasn't drenched in sweat baffled Djurle to no end. In her arms was a large bundle of firewood.

As Tecovis called out to the woman, she turned, her stoic face switching to one of happiness. Her voice boomed, “HEY YOU!”

Tecovis continued “I brought a guest! 

Still grinning, she said “I have eyes Teco, go on ahead and stable your horses! I'll come say hi proper when I got the wood inside!”

Tecovis led Djurle to the barn. Dismounting at the door, they went inside where a number of stables stood, each with a saddle mount posted near it's walls. Most of them had horses, including one familiar strawberry roan, but there were a few empty ones. Tecovis moved to a stable on the left side.

“Use the third from the end on the right. It belongs to Aunt Abby's oldest son, Uriah, he won't mind if you borrow it for the night.”

“You sure? I don't want to kick a man out of his own stables.”

“He's been trying to work out a trade deal for the last two weeks in {city}. We're not expecting him any time soon.”

A memory flashed in Djurle's mind of breaking down a tent with a dark skinned man.

“Hold on, what did you say his name was?”

“Uriah Thord, why?”

"Maker's teeth! I save his life and that's how he repays me!? With a LIE!? Ugh... He could have saved me SO MUCH TROUBLE!"

Tecovis, gave a bemused grunt as he loosened the straps on his horse's saddle, taking great care not to dump the contents of his saddlebags all over the hay covered floors. Djurle half-groaned and half-shouted into the side of Crispus, who was not amused by the feeling.

"The Thords are protective of family, he might have thought you had a grudge against me."

"Am I really that suspicious!?"

Tecovis tossed his saddle onto his saddle mount, leaving the straps dangling below. "Kind of. I mean, a week ago I thought you were a bandit so are you really surprised?"

"I need to figure out what's making people think that so I can work on it. I can't have this ^$*@ keep happening to me."

Djurle grumbled to himself about how likeable and approachable he was as he walked into the empty, recently cleaned stall. Once he had Crispus free from his burden, he gave him some chin scratches and closed the stable door.

"Hey, Djurle... I'm sorry abo-"

"Stop apologizing to me! You've been doing it every hour for the last five days. I already told you I forgive you. You can let it go now."

"Getting mad at an apology doesn't make anyone feel better."

"And groveling to someone who's already moved on is a waste of time. Now are you going to introduce me to everyone like you said you would or are we going to have another argument out here?"

Tecovis rolled his eyes and walked out of the barn.

Yorlan was never that disrespectful. He's gonna need to smack some sense into this kid when we get back.

Djurle shook his head and followed after him. Once outside, he saw an empty handed Ms. Abby walking back from the house, no longer wearing the apron he had seen. He wiped the frown off his face and smiled at the approaching woman. She smiled back and extended her hand. 

"Evening stranger, Abigail Thord. Welcome to the family home!"

"Djurle Iranu, a pleasure." He took the outstretched hand and shook it. She possessed a lot of strength, and the calluses were as thick as his used to be.

"Hold on I misheard you, did you say 'Girl Iranu'?"

Djurle chuckled to himself as he thought, Haven't heard that one in a while

"No, ma'am. Djurle. It's spelled D-J-U-R-L-E."

She laughed, "My mistake. Djurle. Never heard that before."

"I'm from Talvash, names are different there."

"Don't know where that is, but I believe you."

Tecovis spoke up from a few paces away, "It's about two days from Erith on foot."

"OH! Alright, I got it now."

"You've been?"

"No but I've seen maps."

Djurle glanced over to Tecovis, who was averting his gaze.

Ms. Abby also looked over at him, her smile softening a bit before she spoke.

"Hey Teco, Zeb's inside getting the keg ready. Why don't you go help him out while I show Djurle around the property?"

Tecovis perked up and nodded in reply before walking indoors.

When he was out of hearing range, Ms. Abby said, "You certainly gave him a lot to think about."

"I didn't mean to cause a fuss ma'am."

"Nope, none of that 'ma'am' stuff." She set off towards the road. "Makes me feel old."

Djurle stifled a giggle, "Sorry."

Ms. Abby would start the tour with a walk around the perimeter of the property. Along the way she'd point out the different crops that were growing, -I had no idea you could graft tomatoes AND potatoes to the same plant!-, as well as the different storehouse and even some houses for serv- "Employees, we hire people to work and pay them fair. We did it that way even before the Jaunari's great-grandpa banned the use of slaves around here."

"Do you hire any of the refugees?"

"We try to. Ukitu especially since nobody else will let them work. Speaking of hiring, I hear you're a magician, interested in doing a little show for us at the party?"

"Actually, Lieutenant Zebulon asked me already, he figured I'd be able to lighten the mood. I'm always happy for an opportunity to show off my skills. Someone will need to get me a pile of rocks though, I don't want to tear up your field."

"We have plenty of those around, I'll get the boys to bring you some when we get back if Zeb hasn’t beat me to it."

The two continued to walk in silence for a short time. A question burned on the inside of Djurle, and when he could no longer bear the quiet, he asked, "What was Tecovis like since he's been here?"

"Didn't you know his family?"

"I knew his parents well, but I worked at the bottom of their mines. They didn't bring him deep enough to see me, and as far as I'm concerned, any time away from the mines is family hours. I made it a point not to interrupt that time for them, and they never took that time from me."

"Seems reasonable to me... Teco was... well, he carries a lot of hurt. He regularly tried to run away when we first met, like he was afraid we'd judge him. He couldn't be in the same room as a candle or cooking fire for years. Trying to get him to open up about whatever had happened was like trying to move a mountain with a rake."

"A rake? I struggle with mountains normally, that just sounds miserable."

"Ten gold says you've got a story there."

"I'll have to owe you, don't have any on me."

Ms. Abby grinned, then she continued, "It felt like a miracle when he finally told us about Erith. We have the young Mr. Foncree to thank for that."

"What exactly did he tell you?"

"He said that a group of ukitu bandits took the town by force and tried to steal the copper from the mines. He said they oppressed it for months before his mother tried to stand up for the remaining citizens. Poor kid got caught when his dad sent him after her and he was forced to watch as they killed her."

That checks out so far.

"After that they got drunk, and in their drunken stupor they had the bright idea to round everyone up. Upnuntil last week, he said that when they did, they burned the village to the ground with no survivors. He said the bandits got caught together in the tavern they drank at and none of them survived either. In the chaos of the fire he fled the mountains and followed the first river he came across until Zeb found him here in Thruf, covered in soot and scratches."

"Hmm... Did he mention anything else?"

"The other day Zeb told me that a Spirit of the Elements with fire magic was there, but Teco hasn't said anything more to me about it."

"I told Zebulon our abilities aren't magic."

"Certainly seems like it to us normal humans, can you blame him for thinking that?"

"I guess not..."

Djurle contemplated what Ms. Abby had said until another storehouse came into view and the tour continued. 

Around the time the sunset reds began to shift to twilight green, they returned to the house to find a crowd of young men and women had started to form outside. In the crowd he spotted Ezkutu Lantza and one of her squadmates. They seemed to be in good spirits, but Djurle recognized a hard edge to their countenance. One shared by both his wife of 26 summers and his old boss after Erith was destroyed. 

Dionis's memorial was yesterday, wasn't it? They're going to be carrying that weight for some time.

"Maker, please, do whatever you can to ease their burdens."

"What did you say honey? I didn't catch that."

"Just a little prayer Ms. Abby."

He saw many others that weren't familiar. Djurle supposed it was some of the other graduating guardsmen. Seeing them without helmets, he realized all of them had curly hair. Though none of them had curls as tight as Ms. Abby, he found it odd.

From beside him, Ms. Abby boomed "Evening everyone! I hope you've made yourselves comfortable!"

They responded in various, generally positive ways.

"Make sure to leave your weapons in their sheathes and at the doors! I don't want any roughhousing inside, some of that furniture is older than me!"

They collectively groaned "Yes ma'am", to which Ms. Abby cringed.

"And don't be harassing any of my employees either! I will NOT hesitate to kick you out! They're here to serve you and disrespecting them is the same as disrespecting me!"

They all affirmed her words before returning to their conversation. Ms. Abby then took Djurle inside where he was greeted first by Lieute- "It's just Zebulon here, or Zeb if you prefer. I leave my work and my title at the door."

"I can respect that, Zeb." The nickname felt strange in Djurle's mouth. 

They held a small conversation before Ms. Abby brought up Djurle's needs for his upcoming performance, which prompted the Lieutenant to have Tecovis show some volunteers where the stone piles were kept. They brought a considerable amount of stones over near a small bonfire, shaped numerous ways with a wide range of sizes, and any late comers to the party were assigned to help with transportation.

While they were doing that, Djurle took in the sight of the home and it's inhabitants. The home was well furnished, each chair and couch upholstered in high quality fabrics that had been worn with use. The walls had been decorated with woodcarved portraits that were... polished? Each portrait was of a man or woman that bore a striking resemblance to the Thord family. Djurle suspected they were ancestors, which would be confirmed when he asked Lieutenant Zebulon’s daughter, Carriss, about the portraits.

Wealth without waste. Gotta say it's a nice change of pace.

He met with Ms. Abby's two homebound sons, both of which were older than Tecovis by a handful of years, and regaled them with the story of how he'd saved their older brother's life. He won an arm wrestling contest with recruit Rox, much to the surprise of many other recruits. And he had an interesting chat about pebble soup with twin luminites whom were under Ms. Abby's employ.

At some point Djurle stepped out to escape from the cacophony of shouting. While there, he overheard the recently promoted lowguard Slide's voice raise from the opposite porch. Curiosity got the better of him and he snuck around to the corner of the household.

"-out there doing something to find Dense's killers instead of sitting here, wasting time on-on-on mindless games!"

"Slide," Djurle recognized Tecovis's voice, "You and I both know how hard we've been working these cases, we're-"

"We're not doing enough! We should have found these... these monsters by now!"

"I know how you're feeling, trust m-"

"DO YOU!?"

"YES!"

A moment passed, the sounds of the night bugs and the crackling of the bonfire filled the slent air. Djurle could hear a muffled group laughing indoors.

Tecovis broke the scilence with gentle authority, "I was forced to watch as my mother had a sword run through her heart. The need for vengeance is as familiar to me as the sound of the crickets, but if you let it control you it's going to haunt you for the rest of your life. We have to do this right. We will bring them to justice the right way, and part of doing it the right way is keeping ourselves separate from it. Impersonal. We need to take the time to rest. Recuperate. Get our minds clear. We'll lose sight of the innocent if we're too focussed on the guilty, and if you fail to keep that proper focus long enough, you'll find yourself surrounded in bodies with no way to tell who's who anymore..."

Djurle had been told what happened that day by at least nineteen different people, including his wife. As he listened, Djurle began to realize why Tecovis thought his father was dead all this time.

He remembered, as the silent time passed, running into what used to be the gathering hall in Erith. The burnt remains still smoking almost two days after it was destroyed. They were covering Lynetta's grave when he'd arrived, and at the same time Yorlan had a search party in the surrounding wilderness. The charred husks of the many bandits littered the streets, and the images still sat fresh in his mind, as he imagined they did in Tecovis's too.

"...Teco... how in the Maker's name are you so nonchalant about this #%!*...!? I can't get it out of my head... and I don't understand why I feel this way, I mean I hated Dense... shouldn't I... feel... relieved that he's dead? Why does it hurt so much? Why can't I stop telling myself that I should have died instead!?"

Djurle stepped around the corner to see Lowguard Slide hunched over the banister, tears streaming down his face. Tecovis was standing next to him, one hand on Slide's shoulder. Tecovis saw Djurle first, and his brow furrowed.

"I might be able to answer that. Sorry for eavesdropping, noisy parties stopped being fun after the second kid."

Djurle slowly walked over and leaned against the banister on the side Tecovis wasn't on. He stared at the wall as he spoke.

"Early on in my time as a copper miner, I had a few instances where tunnels I had dug caved in. I had yet to learn how to feel the ground for imperfections, and because of that I couldn’t tell where we needed to reinforce the walls and ceilings, so we had to guess. One of these cave ins resulted in the death of 13 men, and the injury of 7 others. These were people that I'd worked with for some time by this point. Their absence was a hole in my life, and the lives of all the workers who were around back then. We had all struggled together, moved heaps of metal and stone together, argued with eachother about the right way to mine. When you lose that man you've struggled and strived with it's like losing part of what made you who you are. And the ones who are regularly at odds are the ones who tend to be most alike. You were improving eachother, sharpening eachother like knives. If your training here is half of what it is for the armies of Stogh, I can safely say you've been to the bottom of the pit and back with him. Whether you realized it or not, that 'hatred' was a rivalry born from the desire to be better than yourself. Now that he's gone, you want it back."

Djurle looked to Tecovis, who stared back with a soft gaze.

"And I can guess you'd do a lot to get it back if you thought you could."

He turned to face Slide and watched his eyes as more tears welled up in them.

"You believe in a fair and just world, the same world The Maker originally designed before... well, you know the story. What happened to Dionis was far from fair and further from just. You want to see the world brought back into balance. That's why you feel guilty, and why you want so desperately to punish the *&#^! who did it. It's not fair that you lived. It's not just that he died. In your heart you know something has to change and you're trying to figure out what."

Slide asked, "So what is it? What needs to change?"

Djurle gave a sorrowful grin. "You do. You grow. Grow strong enough to carry the burden. Strong enough to smile in the face of the pit itself. I did, more than once. Tecovis did. The Lieutenant did. Now it's your turn. Growth isn't easy, despite how naturally it comes. That's why people like us exist," Djurle gestured to Tecovis, "to help you move beyond the boy you used to be and become the man someone else needs tomorrow."

"And we'll do everything we can to help every chance we get. If we can't, then may The Maker send someone to you who understands like we do. Like one day, you will."

Slide turned his head back to the field and jut his jaw forward, staring into the night-shrouded fields

Joyful shouting erupted from inside. Tecovis patted Slide's shoulder and said, "C'mon, sounds like they're starting a game of rengûk. You could use a thrashing."

Slide immediately perked up. "Thrashing? Me?" He wiped his face. "I'm the best rengûk player this side of Higlain!"

"And yet you're on a losing streak."

"I only lost once!"

"Once is a streak."

"Once is not a streak."

"It's about to be twice."

"Care to put your copper where your mouth is bossman?"

Djurle shook his head as the two bantered their way inside before turning around to stare into the starry horizon.