Lyra

“Sit, stay, now, roll over!” I held a thin strip of meat between my thumb and forefinger, the drooling Schmig looked up at me, one eye on me, one eye on the scrap. A moment passed, the bullyboar let out a frustrated huff and then proceeded to roll over as demanded. I threw him the food as promised then bent down to kiss him on his wrinkled head, what a good boy.

“Schmig, get over here. You’re my pet, remember?” Elysia called as Schmig lazily trotted over to her. Thalas looked up from his magazine,

“I like to think he’s more than a pet, he is part of the group.” He looked back at his reading, happily stirring the pot.

“Yeah! You can’t own a part of the group Elysia.” I jeered, adding fuel to the flames. Elara rolled her eyes and went back to looking at a map of the bridge, ignoring us as I playfully pulled on Elysia’s fiery braids.

“I paid my gold chain for him, he’s mine.” She protested, clinging the poor creature to her chest even tighter, its eyes bugging out just a bit more as it struggled to breathe. She let go of him a moment later, placing the sweet boy gently on the ground by her feet.

“Yes, you’re my little guy aren’t you.” She playfully wiggled a finger by his snout and Schmig snorted happily, his tail wagging back and forth. Guess he does love her. What a surprise that she can love anything that isn’t the sun gods.

Sitting down on one of the chairs, a poof of dust rose up as I plopped into the cushion of one of the empty chairs. I gazed around the room once again, I could see bits of debris fall from the roof as the tavern above raged on, the supporting beams were ornate with carvings and hand painted scenes of fading celestials, a shame to see such a nice ceiling go to ruin, even if it was stories of cosmic beings who could care less about us. Celestial worship had left this city long ago, once upon a time I bet this safe house helped many through as they progressed on their spiritual journeys around the realm, but now empty. Only home to ghosts, and the rare cathedral party. I wonder, will we be the last party this basement would protect? I left the thought where it stood and moved my attention to Elara, and the map she was studying.

“What are you looking for exactly?” I watched as her fingers kept retracing the same spot on the paper, nearly wearing a hole in the ancient parchment.

“I am routing our way around a potential army.” Her fingers kept dancing across the map, their nails painted a fine blue, and the skin around them was well manicured for a warrior.

“Do you think we could fly over?” Elysia chimed up, “Most of us do have flying beasts after all.”

“No, they'll most likely have patrols in the air, as well as on the bridge.” She placed a hand over her mouth, her brow furrowing, her stare never leaving the table. She tapped her other fingers in rhythm as a few moments of contemplation rolled by. “Thalas.” She said, shaking him from his reading.

“Yes,” he lowered the magazine once again to his chest, “How can I be of service?”

“Do you know of any mages within the city that do illusion magik? We need some disguises.”