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featuring the teen Free Crusade orphans, Clenna and Daberoche
Unsubtle hints at a massive spoiler for the azata path
Also on AO3
“Magical Elysian flowers don’t need fertilizer, potatohead.”
Clenna went around to the next stall and hefted a shovelful of steaming manure into the wheelbarrow that her small companion, Daberoche, was trying to work up the leverage to push behind her.
“All flowers need fertilizer,” he grunted. “How can they grow if they don’t have stuff to eat?”
“Flowers don’t eat poop. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Rustic in her brown smock and the oversized boots Thall had given her, she blew a loose strand of mousy hair from her face and leaned the shovel on the shed wall so she could pat the speckled pony inside. It blinked its long lashes at her over its shoulder.
Daberoche gave up with the wheelbarrow and came over so he could run his palm along the pony’s barrel-shaped tummy. “Yeah, well, what we used to eat wasn’t much better, and look at us.”
Clenna gasped. “Remember the donkey turds?”
“Ugh,” the halfling boy moaned, doubling over dramatically. “Remember how Mother Narita called them ‘bean croquettes’ like they were some kinda fancy food?”
“She was the one full of beans.”
Daberoche made a rude noise and they both laughed so loud it disturbed the pony. “Do you miss her sometimes?” he asked suddenly.
His teen companion grabbed the shovel and marched to the next stall. “Nope.”
He tried backing against the wheelbarrow, lifting the handles over his head and pushing it with his rump. “She was nice sometimes.”
“Do not tell me you’re homesick for the orphanage.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“Sh, look who’s coming.”
Daberoche made another rude noise, just between the two of them, and Clenna snorted with muffled laughter.
“Early Sunset!” Her smile was genuine even though the azata wasn’t her favorite person in the Court of the Lark. Strange that a real azata from Elysium wasn’t even as much fun as a stuffy old noble like Daeran Arendae.
“Hello, children.”
They waved but kept working, aware by now that Early Sunset probably wouldn’t suggest they slack off and do something fun. In fact he cast a bit of a sobering pall over everything, like a hall monitor.
“Working hard for the Crusade, I see. Pushing demons back to the Abyss one shovelful at a time. Such drudgery must be a disappointment.”
“Better than mopping the kitchens at the orphanage any day.”
“We all pitch in and do our part!” said Daberoche stoutly.
“Still a far cry from the glorious dreams that brought you runaways all the way to Drezen, I imagine.”
“We’ll get our chance. I’m training with the Valhaflings!” Daberoche punched the air.
“Aranka’s teaching me to sing and play the lute. Although... I’d rather learn guitar.” Clenna’s face went scarlet and she hunched into her shoulders as if she’d revealed the most embarrassing secret in the world.
“I’m sure you would,” said Early Sunset evenly. “Then what are you doing here instead of training for the Crusade? It seems to me the Cavalry Sculptors are taking advantage of you. Getting you to do their dirty work while they get all the accolades.”
“They need to rest between adventures out in the Worldwound,” Daberoche informed him. “Swooping in to rescue the Knight-Commander in the nick of time.”
“So if I understand correctly,” Early Sunset mused, “the Valhalflings and the Cavalry Sculptors simply decide to charge in, not when the Knight-Commander orders them to, but whenever the fancy strikes them, unexpectedly turning up to save the day. Doesn’t that worry you? What would happen if one day they decided not to venture out, and the Knight-Commander found himself in mortal danger and no unexpected rescue on the horizon? I can only imagine: falling to his knees, knowing his luck has failed him, dying alone on the battlefield... What a terrible shame.
“I do hope you’re not considering flying to his rescue yourselves. You are valiant-hearted, and I have no doubt he would be deeply grateful for such an act of heroism, but it would be against the rules. And I’m sure the two of you are far too respectful and obedient to do something so rash.”
The teenagers glanced at each other.
Daberoche frowned. “Why don’t you go save him if you’re so worried?”
“I am not the martial sort of azata. I prefer more civilized methods of doing battle.”
They glanced at each other again.
“Whatever,” said Clenna, rolling her eyes.
“You’re weird,” said Daberoche.
“Aren’t azata always ‘weird’?”
As soon as Early Sunset was out of earshot Clenna snorted. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Daberoche made a rude noise.
They nodded in unison.
"Mother Narita only not nice," said Daberoche.
Clenna did her best scandalized old priestess voice. 'Children. Be civilized!'"
Giggling they braced the wheelbarrow against a pair of rocks, and Clenna helped Daberoche tip it up, and then with the edge of her shovel pushed the load of pony manure over the edge of the floating island and away into the Worldwound.
As a conclusion to bralani simping I want to show collaboration art from my bros from ru fandom (with their permission): their azata commanders and Early Sunset. I think that "Early Sunset" learned his lesson... early :D You don't mess with Elysium!
Authors: @bullterrierpeacefuldog "Все ещё не Дон Блут", Радужный декаданс, @murthingsblog Murthings, Lina Карманцы.
