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[Arcana]

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“You’ve clearly mistaken me for someone who gives a damn,” Arcana snarled as she shoved past the harbormaster waiting on the dock. “Officious twit,” she muttered, none too quietly as she adjusted her pack and took a firmer grip on the handle of the chest she dragged behind her. As if she was some common merchant who’s goods should be inspected.

As she reached the end of the dock, she paused to take in the scenery and catch her breath. Not much had changed in Vesper, it seemed. The streets were a little quieter, perhaps. Misunderstanding her intentions, a porter started to load her chest onto a hand cart.

“Where to, milady?” the man asked, knuckling his forehead respectfully.

Arcana turned a withering glare upon the unfortunate porter. “Touch that trunk again and you die, peasant,” she snapped, her right hand unconsciously clenching into a fist to strike the man if he did not comply.

The porter stared in open-mouthed astonishment for an instant, then immediately dropped his eyes and backed away with profuse apologies to milady. Arcana ignored him. She lifted the chest onto her back and set off for the outskirts of the city.

Back on the dock, the harbormaster spoke quietly with the captain of the recently arrived ship. Lady Arcana was well known in the city; she’d lived there most of her life and her estates lay on the outskirts of Vesper. In the past, she had never been thought of as the sort of aristocrat who abused her privilege.

The harbormaster spat into the water. “Its damn shame. She always was a rare ‘un. But they all get like that sooner or later. Care for a plug?”

The captain nodded and stuffed his pipe with the offered tobacco. “Didn’t I tell ye no good would come of that half-breed she kept around?” he said with a knowing leer, though he’d said the just opposite when the lady and half-ogre had last been in the city. “Not really a man, he was, more of a violent beast. Stands to reason she’d lose ‘er manners.”

***

The sight of Riverrun flourishing brought joy to Arcana’s heart. The portion of the estate of which she’d allowed the ALV the use looked particularly well; Max had not been idle. What had been a disused stable amidst overgrown fields was now a thriving village with good stone buildings. She’d have to speak with Max and Smitty about a more permanent arrangement.

However, she was soon reminded of the chest she’d brought home and all joy faded. What should she do with it? Given what had happened, it didn’t seem right to bury it yet, not without trying something. Surely there must be something she could do. Something… anything…