"What with the exploding, yeah. If I was really sure you'd come through with the fancy artifacts and the people who actually want to be here, I'd let a bunch of the older ones go, but if I let twenty people go now and you vanish or fall off a cliff or can't find anything or decide you don't feel like helping me after all, then I have to kidnap twenty more people much faster than usual and everyone in Oroshe is terrified that this is the new normal. I like my nice stable reputation, I don't want to disrupt that."

"Right. And that's. Not any better." He rubs the bridge of his nose. "How often do you torture people...?"

"...why do you ask?"

"I'm trying to figure out if I could possibly get you a willing subject before your next torture session."

"...the longest I could reasonably give you is a week. Do you think you can manage it in a week?"

He considers.

He's had worse deadlines, really.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Try not to feel too bad if you can't manage it."

"Try not to be too surprised when I do."

He shrugs.

"Anyway. I think that might be everything? I find you a willing subject in a week, see if I can find anything to help with the immortality spell problem, hopefully everyone walks away happy?"

"Yeah, sounds like it," he says.

And hesitates for a moment, and adds—

"I wasn't trying to say I didn't think you could do it. Just, it's not necessarily under your control whether you find anybody, or whether if you find somebody they end up getting along with me, and my hobbies and my three-thousand-year-old spell design mistakes are neither of them your fault. And it brings me no joy when people blame themselves for what I choose to do with my time."

Veron blinks.

"Thanks," he says sincerely, after a surprised pause. "Sorry if I sounded a bit snappish, I'm. Kind of used to everyone underestimating me by now."

He smiles. "Yeah, it's all right. Anyway. Nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you, too. Pleasure speaking with you, I'll see you in a week."

He waves, casually, then turns and walks down the trail he'd been walking before. This time, though, after four steps an inky darkness swallows him - rather like with the letter - and then he disappears.

...Serik giggles.

Five days later, a letter is placed into Serik Tanaikon's mailbox by someone who's just a little bit smug.

A bolt of lightning flashes down the mountainside and deposits a grinning Serik a few feet away.

Veron is not alone!

Next to him there is a small shadowy figure, bouncing anxiously on - its? her, that's probably a her - heels.

"Hello," says Veron, brightly.

"hi," says the little shadowy figure next to him. Yep, that's a she. And she is nervously edging behind Veron in order to hide.

...awwwwwww, she's adorable. He takes a step back so as not to crowd her.

"Hi."

"This is Ssaskxssix." That word he used should not be pronounceable by a human. He said it anyway. "She wanted to come say hello."

"but that's probably hard to say," she clarifies, peeking out from behind Veron, "with the usual human vocal range. so, um. i should probably get a nickname."

"You can definitely get a nickname," assures Veron, which she seems to find very comforting.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, beaming at her. She's so cute!!

She considers him, looking at him with piercing lavender eyes. They glow faintly.

"it's nice to meet you, too," she decides, with obvious deliberation. "... Saskia. as a nickname. if that's all right?"

"It's lovely."

"It's very pretty," Serik agrees. (Ee. She is so cute.)

"thank you."

She seems to find this sufficient reassurance to venture away from the protection of Veron. A little. She edges towards Serik to peer at him from a closer distance.

He smiles at her. "You're very cute."