"More than anyone, I think. He might get to šee it..."

She nods.

"… He isn't prepared for it. I don't think he can be, from how different everything is on the surface."

"No. He shows off, you know, how he's been up there... he doesn't know. But he can learn. That'š the good thing about being young."

She nods.

"Yes."

… She isn't sure what she's supposed to say next.

"What do you plan to do, if any of the other chiefs want to stay? Wenduag saw the sword the same as anyone else, but she disagreed about what to do about it."

"I will play politicš," he says, quenching the blade. "The one šide of leadership where I am truly Lann's better. Those old muttš won't agree by next gong, but I'll have them in ten. Then we can begin the real work of following you back to the šurface."

She has to smile at how he reminds her of Shojo here. (If she had more of a sense of humor she would at least have the idea of advising him not to institute Meat Loaf Day.)

"I wish you the best of luck in that."

He inspects the finished blade. "The only good thing about politicš," he mutters, setting it to one side and retrieving an ingot, "is that it requires no luck at all."

     The first of the chiefs arrives not very long after. She descends from a tunnel that terminates fifty feet above the cavern floor, using the vast membraneous wings she has in place of arms to half-glide down to Sull's hilltop. She happens to be nude, except for the many-tiered collar of uncut gems stretching from her chin halfway down her chest and the live viper coiled around her forehead like a diadem. Upon landing, she mantles her wings around herself and inclines her head to Sull. "You have called and I have come, chief Sull. How fares my daughter?"

Sull inclines his head ever so slightly deeper. "She is well, chieftešš Veredin. She has taken well to the chandler's pošt; you may find her in that houše there, though she is yet ašleep."

     Veredin smiles. Her teeth are very sharp. "I am sure I will stay long enough to meet with her on her own schedule. For now, I will have some wine."

          The second arrives less than an hour later, emerging from the lake to sit on a rock which keeps most of them submerged. They set their spear aside and begin combing their long silver hair, looking irritated.

Sull comes down to the shore, followed by Veredin. "Efi, I hope your journey was untroubled?"

          They take a break from combing to rapidly sign a response, including a vigorous gesture that can only be obscene.

     The chieftess' mouth twitches. "You should have brought the corpses with you. I have heard excellent things about the Iron Arrow's fish stew."

          Efi sets aside their comb to gesture twice as vigorously, and three times as obscenely.

               The final chief arrives after the first two have already grown anxious, tromping in through a normal ground-level tunnel like a normal person. He's younger than the others, and shockingly large, though not quite Large; the fur all over his body is tiger-striped black and green, and the green is dyed with further intricacies in red. He wears plate armor and a double-bladed axe on his back, and lifts Sull off the ground in greeting. "Old man!" he roars merrily. "You've gone mad, I hear, talking of the sun? I knew the day would come."

Sull laughs and breaks the impromptu grapple, falling back on his feet. "You'll šee jušt how mad I am in a minute, Gurakti!"

               "It's only Gura now, and you know it," Gura mock-growls.

Sull feigns innocence. "I mušt have forgotten - you štill look šo like the little štripeling who cried when I told him I wouldn't make him a šword until he'd heard five thousand gongs..."

               Gura shakes his head. "You think I won't hit an old man, and you're wrong. Come, where are these shurfashers?"

(Miko mostly waits and observes. She doesn't know how many will ultimately arrive—it probably can't be that many, but who knows. She wonders what about down here gives the Neathers such a grab bag of traits. And how advantageous they even are to living underground. She follows Sull and Veredin to greet Efi, wondering what they're talking about. And how they'll even manage to get up to the surface and survive. Maybe that's why Sull anticipated the politics would take nearly a week.)

She quietly puts her hand up when Gura teases (!) Sull.

"Hello. Thank you for coming, I understand it's on very short notice. Is there anyone else we're waiting on?"

               Gura glances at her. "Well, you're a surfacer if anybody is. We three are the only ones less than a gong's travel from the Iron Arrow cavern, and Sull's runner made it clear there was a tearing hurry, so...

Sull nods. "Thiš council will do. If we agree, the rešt will know it is šeriouš."

          Efi makes a quick fingersign, rolling their eyes.

"Ah, Efi emphašizes the if."

Huh, are they all centrally located according to importance or somethi

Oh. Miko's glad that she doesn't have to do all this politicking.

"Right. Well. I and some others were knocked into a cavern a short distance from here. A pair of youths from this village found us and agreed to help us to the surface in exchange for our help looking for… well, this."

Sword! She calls upon the feeling of it doing the glowy thing.

mama, look what i can do -

The sun shines again. The sword's glorious battle-cry shines through brighter this time, the innocent childish joy only a top-note. It's just as strong as it was the gong before.

Thank you, she thinks at the sword.

… Abruptly, something Camellia said earlier clicks into context.

"Chief Sull, is there anything else you require of me?"

The other three chiefs are respectively squinting, praying, or standing slack-jawed. Sull shakes his head discreetly.

Oh good.

"Thank you."

She bows to all the chiefs before leaving. She wants to find Camellia again. Maybe she's gone to see Dyra?

...she's gazing thoughtfully at Chieftess Veredin, from behind a rock sixty feet away.

"Do you have a moment? I just realized something and feel extremely foolish."

She turns to Miko, and her blown-out pupils contract. "Yes," she murmurs. "Let us converse... further away from that woman. I should avoid her... not at all costs, necessarily, but at some."

Seeking out gossip is unvirtuous!

"All right. Sull says that he plans to play politics for the next week or so, especially since there are other chiefs who will take a day or more to arrive. I don't anticipate that it would be difficult to avoid her."

"Yes. And we are to head for the surface today... or to-gong, or whatever. It should not be difficult at all."

Once they're safely intented, Camellia sighs. "Right. What has made you feel so foolish?"

Snrk.

"When I saw you earlier, you referenced a child-thing as… a spirit following me around, if I recall correctly. I wasn't sure what you meant, but I didn't question it. But earlier, when I was demonstrating the sword's power, I. Felt something. That reminded me of what you said."

Eyebrow raise. "Yes. What had you thought happened yesterday, when the angel's blade drew on it?"

"To be honest, I didn't make the connection."

Which is embarrassing! She's embarrassed!

Camellia shrugs. "Well. You're not a shaman. Yes, you have a spirit of some sort in your custody. It's not really a child per se, but... there's an innocence. Like if you put every year of someone's life in a mortar and pestle and crushed it up, and the younger years made the bulk of the product."