Regret

“My plan is to have Elayne describe her mother from memory to a painter. We can use that to ask locals if they've seen a beastkin woman who looks like the painting,” Osric finishes explaining his police sketch plan to the table.

“You’re going back to Aurelith?” Catalina drops her fork, it clangs on the plate before dropping to the floor.

"Well, that’s where we’ll start the search. But she might’ve been brought here to the kingdom, too," Osric explains.

Catalina springs up from her chair, knocking it over.

"No, that's not happening."

The whole table stares at her, except Elayne, who’s still stuffing her face.

“I promised Elayne I would help her,” Osric argues.

“You both nearly died! And you want to go back?” she slams the table, anger contorting her pretty face.

“We are heading back home!”

Osric is shocked by her violent outburst. I get that it’s dangerous, but Elayne’s mom could be in trouble — the way people treat beastkin here, I wouldn’t be surprised.

“How would you feel if your mother was missing!” Osric screams back at her.

“You would do everything in your power to find her, right?”

The anger drains from Catalina's face; her lips quiver into a frown. Tears build in her eyes. She throws her hands up to cover them, then she bolts out of the dining hall.

“Osric, don’t bring up her mother,” Randolf scolds, going after her.

What? Did I say something bad? Osric raises an eyebrow as he watches Randolf leave.

The smacking of Elayne’s lips stops. She’s looking toward the door, now back at her half-eaten steak, then at the door again. She seems torn.

Eventually, she shoves the rest of the steak in her mouth and takes off after them.

>>>

“The pretty lady won’t stop crying. Is there something wrong with her?” Elayne asks, walking down the front steps of the mansion.

“She should be fine, she just needs to cry for a while,” Angus answers.

Elayne catches up to Angus and Osric; the three walk down the cobblestone path toward the carriage, passing a pristine stone fountain in the middle of the walkway.

Osric looks back at the mansion. He gawks up at the ginormous “L”-shaped building: the chiseled stone pillars complemented by a symmetrical grid of windows, the stone brick walls interrupted by several balconies.

Osric rubs his neck, catching up to the other two. Man, it's just as impressive on the outside. I don’t feel so bad about asking Angus for money anymore. He’s got maxed-out resources.

Arriving at a purple-painted carriage, Osric glances at the cat beastkin maid at the front.

“The maids steer your carriages, too?”

“They’re slaves — they have all sorts of skills before they come here,” Angus replies.

Osric and Elayne hop up and sit down on the cushy upholstered seats.

“My dear grandfather, can I have some more money, please? I need to pay the artist, right?” Osric asks, doing his best to give him an adorable pout.

“Here.” Angus hands him a sack of coins, sighing and shaking his head.

“His name’s Henry, he's an old friend. If you say my name, I’m sure he’ll paint anything you want.” Angus closes the door.

“Wait!” Randolf shouts from across the cobblestone path.

“Catalina wants me to go with you, for protection,” he says, stepping into the carriage.

“What did she say?” Osric asks.

“Not much.” Randolf sits down across from them, the carriage rocking.

“If you want to apologize, you tell her yourself,” he adds.

“Hah! The Grand Sage does not concern himself with the trivial matters of humans,” Osric says, crossing his arms smugly. I can't tell him I'm too anxious to apologize. What if I say the wrong thing and make it worse?

“That human is your mother!” A scowl grows on his face.

Osric catches more movement coming down the path. Edith jogs toward them carrying something in her arms.

“Catalina wants Elayne to wear this.” She shoves a brown hooded cloak into the carriage. “Hide your ears.”

“And Osric, too — keep your hood up. She doesn’t want people seeing your eyes.”

She scoffs, turning away. “I can’t believe we are doing all this for a half-beastkin.”

Angus laughs awkwardly.

“Well then, good luck.” He shuts the door.

Osric hears the snap of the reins and the trotting of hooves; the carriage starts moving.

He sits there, watching Elayne next to him. She struggles to put on the cloak, her arm slipping through the head hole.

Sweat rolls down his side from his armpit, soaking into his pants. Ugh, this nervous sweating — why does my new body do it too?

What is up with everyone? It’s like they hate me now. What did I say that was so bad? Was it about Catalina's mom?

“What happened to my grandmother, anyway?” Osric asks, looking at the intense scowl across from him.

Randolf exhales deeply, the scowl leaving his face.

“It was fifteen years ago, at the edge of the Kingdom — the Aetherspire mine. Demons crossed the Serpentspire Mountains and attacked the mine, taking it over. Then they moved on to the surrounding town, seizing that as well.”

“What’s Aetherspire?” Elayne innocently interrupts him to ask, her arm still sticking out of the cloak’s collar.

“That’s where Aetherite is mined, right? The crystal stuff that absorbs mana,” Osric answers.

Randolf clears his throat. “Yes, a very valuable resource for the Kingdom. When the King heard the demons had seized the mine, he made a call to all adventurers in the Kingdom, asking them to join the Holy Army in retaking the mine. Your grandmother and her party, Silverfang, answered the call. In their prime, Silverfang was known all throughout the Kingdom. Their pride didn’t let them stay in retirement, knowing the Kingdom could be in danger.

The battle was grueling, but it was going in our favor — until the Holy Knight commander fled, leaving the troops in disarray.”

He pauses; Osric can see the anger in his eyes.

He continues, “As second in command, I tried to rally the troops. But I was no leader — I failed. The battle was over. We lost too many. I made the call to retreat, but most of the adventurers did not follow. They stayed behind to slow the demons. It was honorable, and reckless. The Silverfang party was incredible in their final moments..."

His voice quivering, he pauses to regain his composure.

“Your grandmother’s magic was amazing. She blew away hundreds of demon troops. We wouldn't have escaped without them...” His voice continues to quiver.

“Catalina had begged and pleaded with your grandmother not to go. Hearing that she did not return broke her.” He fights a frown.

He opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but he chokes up. He turns away to hide his face.

Osric doesn’t need to see his face; he knows what's on it. Ah, Regret. I know what he’s feeling. When I felt like that, I always wanted someone to cheer me up... but what should I say?

He fidgets, thinking.

“Aha!” Elayne’s head pops through the top of the cloak, beaming with accomplishment.

Osric watches the excitement leave her face as she sees Randolf sulking. Her ears droop.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

She gets no answer.

>>>

The carriage is stopped in the middle of a busy Lumora street. Osric steps out, looking into a small shop on the first floor of a tall building. The shop is all wooden, with bookshelves lining the left wall. On each shelf multiple paintings are displayed. Easels are strewn about in the back of the shop; a table is littered with paint brushes.

The three enter. Osric is taken by the paintings. Each depicts a beautiful nature scene: an ocean glistening with golden sun rays, a vibrantly flower-covered meadow, a dense green forest.

A messy blonde-haired man jumps out from behind an easel in the back.

“Oh, customers?” He greets them at the door, wearing a paint-stained white smock. His brown trousers are also covered in multi-colored splotches.

“Hey... Henry! Angus sent us. We want you to draw her mother,” Osric says, pointing at Elayne.

"I see your paintings are mostly of nature, can you paint people?" He asks.

“Yes! Anything for Angus.” Henry runs to the back.

Randolf elbows Osric. "Asking a painter what he can or cannot paint is an insult to his skill," he reprimands him.

Osric gives him a foul look. Again with the scolding. He's starting to remind me of Dad...

Henry returns with an easel and a fresh canvas. He sets it up then plops down on a stool

“What am I painting?” he says eagerly.

“Wow,” Osric whispers to himself. He was quick to agree. I’m starting to think Angus put all his points in charisma.

Osric pushes Elayne forward. “Describe your mother to him.”

Elayne reaches behind, swatting his hand away.

“Describe?” She looks back.

“Yes! Tell him what she looks like!” Osric yells.

Elayne stands there, pondering for seconds, minutes…

“I don’t know! She looks like Mother.” She shrugs.

Osric throws his head into his hands. Oh boy, this might take a while.