Page 74 of Badmouths & Bards

“It’s a little crooked, but he’ll live.”

“So…You got a name?”

Not that Tala needed a name, but for some reason it felt weirder to refer to her contact as ‘friend of the guy I beat up once’.

“Ordinarily, I wouldn’t, but given we have a history…” the man waved his hand toward Tala’s fist. “My name is Kerith.”

“Sounds a lot like carrot,” Tala said without a thought.

An awkward beat went by.

“Cercel did mention you were…humorous,” Kerith said.

The idea that Cercel talked about her to anybody always rubbed Tala the wrong way. Though, she knew logically it was kind of impossible not to. The monastery was a community; community meant people talked about you. It was more like hearing your older brother was talking about you to his friends. Anyone would be embarrassed by it.

“Surprised he remembers I exist,” Tala said instead.

“Surprised…” It was Kerith that lifted a brow in confusion. “You aren’t easy to forget.”

“Yeah, my fists do that.”

She wasn’t sure why she was trying to do small talk with Kerith. They weren’t close in the slightest, and gods knew he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Speaking of which…

Tala reached into her pocket, tossing the metal piece toward Kerith who caught it as easily as it were a gold piece. He turned it over in his hand, running his thumb over the engraving.

“That came off the guy who hit me with a poison dagger,” Tala explained. “I’m pretty sure it belongs to a circle of smugglers, but the way the guy fought kind of implied they might be more of the assassin variety.”

“I’ll bring it to Cercel’s attention when I brief him on our meeting,” Kerith said as he examined the metal. “Though, I can confirm I’ve seen this symbol before.”

“Wait— are you serious?”

Kerith nodded. “I can’t go into the details—you understand, I assume? But what I can say is that the men I’ve seen wear these are very dangerous. They’re part of a larger organization. You’re very lucky to be alive right now.”

That…didn’t make Tala feel better. Sure, she managed to take the man who wore that symbol down, but she had nearly died from being poisoned. If anything, it wasn’t just luck but a comedy of errors that she was even alive.

“Sorry I didn’t get much else from him,” Tala said. “I was…kind of preoccupied with smashing his teeth in. Starting to feel a little less bitter about those one on one lessons with Aelidon, though.”

“You’ve been training with the High Conservator?” Kerith asked, surprise clear in his voice.

“Yeah,” Tala bristled—just a tad. “I have, so what?”

“She sees something in you,” Kerith said, breezing past her distrust. “The High Conservator rarely trains with individuals unless she sees potential. What has she been training you in?”

Now that was news to Tala that made zero fucking sense. High Conservator Aelidon had only ever called Tala to her study when she got into trouble. A kitchen fight, a smart mouthed reply to a superior—those were the reasons why Tala were called in.

“Usually she’s teaching me stuff about patience and breathing and how to avoid getting hit,” Tala explained. “Last time I saw her, she nailed me with some poison darts.”

“I see,” Kerith smiled.

Tala’s eye twitched. “Care to elaborate for the rest of the class?”

“Do you know why we’re called the Valiant Circle? It’s because it takes courage to admit that you can’t do anything alone. We work better when we work together, which means cultivating a community of different minds and skills. I can’t say for certain, but my guess would be that the High Conservator has taken a liking to your resilience,” Kerith said before pocketing the metal piece.

“Dude—and I mean this with some level of respect since you’re part of the spy network—what the fuck does that mean?”

“Breathing helps you connect with your body. Patience allows your mind to open and find pathways that were closed off to you before. The High Conservator has been prepping your resilience to poison,” Kerith explained. “Whether or not she knew you would encounter one of these criminals on the other hand, well...”