Its premise was a projection of an economic crisis in this area of Morinfair, and it marked Fallsard as the origin of the market crash that could spread afar. Since the sun had occupied almost all of Ashevagord, Fairleigh—the Water Guardian—issued a call for willing Ashevas in the region to counter the new master of Fallsard—the man who also belonged to the masked conclave, ‘Mothflame’ Merwyn. It was only the beginning of the conflict though, the contract only called for a non-violent resistance of any drastic fluctuation, but if things worsened, it would devolve into a full-blown siege to crush the citadel. And if he signed the contract now, Ewan had to participate in it once the situation exploded.

  Thus, he burned the contract and let the ashes drift off to the ocean with the deathly scream of the mynah—he declined the call. Even with the rewards, this wasn’t the war he wanted to fight in; neither he nor his circumstances agreed with it. Fallsard was the only hub they could access in the area, and if he chose the Guardian’s camp, the Enclave would close its doors for them. Before the market actually crashed and the battle began, he could use the citadel for all it had to offer—neutrality was the optimal path for this conflict.

  “Did you guys get the birds?” he spoke in the bracelet after opening the channel with a grating static.

  “Yeah boss, we just got them. Did you get it too?” Kidd replied from Stormfalcon.

  “Burn them, we’re not taking part,” Ewan said.

  “Okay.”

  “Ah, they’re screaming,” Nana said.

  “They were already dead when they became the contract, Nana, the screams are just theatrics, don’t mind them,” Ewan said. “Have Stormfalcon make rounds in the area, keep an eye out all of you, see if you can get more kids. This will only add to the chaos now, we need to get as much information as we can.”

  “Lance picked one up in a drifting barrel when they were coming back, it’s a new list,” Stefan said.

  “Good, sort through it and add it to the database,” Ewan said. “Get as many as we can before Ashevagord issues a ban on it.”

  “Ewan, how will we prove that we didn’t sign the contract. Will the Enclave let us enter?” Nana asked.

  “Let’s hope the new Seigneur has ways to find that out,” Ewan said. “Either way, we’ll stay neutral for now.”

  “Are we still attending the banquet, Boss?” Kidd asked, and the men around Ewan scuttled away, the contracts still hovering behind them.

  “We’ll see, we still have some time for it,” Ewan said, glancing at them. The Seroyotes’ acceptance or denial of the contract would have no effect on his position on the mountain, so his curiosity about Abelard’s decision on the matter only went so far.

  …..

  They came back to shed some blood and flesh for Ewan when the ballad of insects rang aloud at night, brimming with life from the rain. They still bowed at his door and lined up before him as he drew their blood and sliced some flesh, storing them in the apt containers.

  “I might need more later,” Ewan said, clasping the lock on the box.

  “Just send for us, sir, we’ll all be here,” the man that led them said.

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  “It doesn’t have to be you guys, but it’ll be good for consistency if the samples are from the same people,” Ewan said with a smile. “Get the cut healed properly with a spell though, scar tissues might throw the result off. I’ll have to slice a different area then.”

  When they bowed out and closed his gate, Ewan barricaded the hut and the fences with the protective shield he bought back in Drarith, the coral lightning thread streaking around, and explored the samples. The composition of blood, the make of their flesh, the structure of their tissues, down to their cells—he researched all that he could. Apart from their wings and skeletal structure, the anatomy of Seroyotes’ didn’t differ much from the Humans. So, Ewan looked for any contrast that would conflict with their nature. Alas, nothing came up in his first sweep.

  Just in case though, he also used a part of the samples, and with , injected a parasitic version of the blood into the fishes in the pond. If Abelard couldn’t deliver live subjects, Ewan would create his own. The varying effect from the different species would throw his calculations off a lot, however—he would have to heed a large margin of error when dealing with the fishes. If only he had access to slaves here too…

  …..

  They came to deliver the second batch of samples, then the third and the fourth, and before the month ended, they came for the fifth batch too, their dreary eyes baring their weariness.

  “Are you guys tired?” Ewan asked, slapping the skin of the last Seroyote to expose the vein, the needle marks from the previous collections bearing a purplish hue.

  “No, sir,” their leader said. “We can do this as many times as you need. Sir Abelard has given the order, and we follow.”

  Ewan chuckled. “Don’t worry, this will be the last,” he said. His parasite project with the fishes came through, their changes stripped the thread that led him to the culprit. “This sample is just to verify what I found. Tell Sir Abelard to come meet me when you go back, I have news for him about the issue.”

  “Did you find the solution, sir?” the leader asked in an elated voice, clenching his fists as he hyperventilated.

  “I found the issue, but the solution is beyond me,” he said. “That’s what I need to discuss with him.” Ewan added the blood thinner in the vial then packed it in the icy container. “He was right about the curse bit at least,” he said under his breath.

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