Lanni joined the others in the barn as they arranged their gear and settled in. Straw rustled underfoot, and a faint chill clung to the air, reminding everyone that the warmth of summer had long since faded. The group worked quietly, each person engaged in their own task, yet the subtle tension of anticipation hung in the atmosphere. Once everyone had finished, Marn looked at them, his face a mask of concentration, and said he had something to deal with. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the barn, his silhouette disappearing into the twilight. Kritalla and Lamin exchanged glances before heading off to gather supplies: tents, warm clothes for Shri, and hair dye and makeup for Ann and Tercala so they could blend in more easily. The plan was to avoid drawing attention. Kritalla’s focused, business-like attitude suggested he was already deep into his strategies. Meanwhile, Lanni motioned to Shri, guiding her toward a quiet corner of the barn. She hesitated, considering whether revealing Drepal’s existence to the girl was wise. Letting Drepal pretend to be her would be simpler and less confusing for Shri. But then, she pushed the thought away. The girl deserved the truth, even if it was difficult to understand. She knelt down to meet Shri’s gaze. “I need you to talk to someone about the magic eater,” she said gently. “She can be a little intimidating, but she won’t hurt you.” Shri’s eyes widened a bit. Then she nodded slowly. “Okay.” Lanni paused, concern flickering across her face. “It’ll be a little confusing. Would you like Sifa or Jahan to stay with you?” she asked. Shri’s hand twisted the hem of her shirt as she looked away and then back at Lanni. “Can you?” Lanni’s expression softened with regret. “I wish I could, but it’s not safe for us to be together right now. I’ll be close, though. I promise.” “Okay, I’ll talk to her,” Shri agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. Lanni gave her a reassuring smile, then closed her eyes. She focused on that familiar transition, letting Drepal emerge. When she opened her eyes again, her expression was sharper, and her posture was a touch more rigid. She looked at Shri with a different gaze filled with curiosity and a hint of guardedness. “Shri, a long time ago, someone hurt Lanni very badly. So badly that it broke her,” Drepal began, her voice carrying a raw honesty. “It wasn’t just her body, but her mind, too. Each part of her mind became a different person. Now, two of us share this body. Lanni and me. My name is Drepal.” Shri blinked, tilting her head. “But you’re Lanni,” she insisted, half smiling as though it was all a game. “You’re just being silly.” Drepal shook her head slowly. “Lanni is only one part of what we are. I’m the other half.” “Why?” Shri’s voice was barely above a whisper, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Because someone hurt us so deeply that it was the only way we could survive,” Drepal explained, her tone softening. She wanted Shri to understand, but this was no easy concept for a child. “I need to talk to you about some things. Even though we share a body, I don’t always know everything Lanni does, so if you tell me something, don’t assume I already know it, alright?” Shri nodded, though her eyes held a flicker of uncertainty. “You talked about a magic eater,” Drepal prompted gently. Shri looked down, her tiny fingers twisting together. “It goes inside you and eats all your magic, so you can’t cast anything. It hurts while it’s doing that, but the pain goes away when your magic is gone.” Drepal’s gaze softened. “Does yours still hurt?” Shri nodded. “Loka gave me and Kritalla a potion for the pain. He’s an augmenter, too.” Drepal nodded in recognition. “I know. You mentioned something about being collared.” Shri frowned, and her fingers stilled. “Dad said the bad mages and people who shouldn’t have magic would be.” “Do you know what your dad means by ‘bad mages’?” Drepal asked, her tone gentle but probing. Shri hesitated, then shook her head, gazing at the floor. Drepal sensed her reluctance; Shri didn’t want to say something that might hurt her. “People like me and Lanni?” Drepal guessed, her voice steady. “Immortals? Dragons, maybe?” “Maybe,” Shri whispered. Drepal could tell the girl didn’t want to think of her as a bad mage, even if her father had told her otherwise. Drepal reached out, placing a comforting hand on Shri’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. If you know the answer, tell me.” Shri glanced up, her face softening with relief. “But you’re not a bad mage.” Drepal managed a small smile. “I used to be. Have you ever heard of the Monster of the North? The one in Crellis’ stories?” Shri’s eyes widened, her face paling. She leaned back, shaking her head. “That’s not you,” she insisted. “You gave me cookies.” “That was Lanni,” Drepal replied, her voice gentle but insistent. “I used to be that monster, though. The bad mages made me do terrible things. But I’m not like that anymore.” Shri studied her for a moment and then nodded, either trusting her or too young to understand their dual nature. Drepal’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “What did your dad mean about people who shouldn’t have magic? Is that servants and peasants?” Shri nodded. “And me, because my pain won’t go away.” “Augmenters? But if there’s this magic eater, why do you need to be collared? No one can cast.” It didn’t make sense to Drepal. “There’s not enough blood,” Shri said quietly, biting her lip. Drepal frowned. “Blood? What blood?” “The magic eater needs it,” Shri explained. “But it all soaked into the carpet.” Drepal leaned closer, her interest piqued. “Your dad told you this?” Shri glanced down, and her face flushed. “Brallet wouldn’t play with me. I was hiding so Crellis could find me. She didn’t see that I was gone. I was in Daddy’s office, and he came in with a man, but I’m not supposed to be there. So I stayed hidden.” Drepal nodded slowly, piecing Shri’s story together. “Did they say whose blood it was? Or if they’re planning to get more?” “They said the skin man messed up,” Shri murmured. Drepal realized they were referring to Marn. They thought he was a Yarb. Yarb citizens who enlisted in the Menthan army were said to have two skins, the one they were born with and the one they bought by betraying their kingdom. “Is the magic eater in the mill?” Shri shook her head. “No, Mom said something about Shimis.” Drepal’s eyes narrowed, trying to remember. “Shimis? That’s in central Yarba.” She paused, then gave Shri a small smile. “You did well, Shri. You helped a lot.” Shri’s face lit up with a smile. “Really?” “Absolutely,” Drepal assured her. “You did a wonderful job. Shall we go check on dinner?” Shri nodded, her face brightening. Drepal gently patted her shoulder and stood, ready to relay the information to Lanni and the others. As they walked, Shri glanced up, studying her curiously. “Are you really not Lanni?” Drepal looked at her with a patient smile. “I’m really not.” Shri’s face softened. “Will she come back?” “Of course. I never stay long,” Drepal replied, her voice gentle. Shri nodded, a small smile forming. “I like you, too.” A rare warmth spread through Drepal’s chest, and she smiled back. “Thank you, Shri. Let’s go get some food, and while we eat, I’ll tell Lanni what I learned. Then we’ll see what we can do. Sound good?” Shri grinned. “Okay.” #fantasy #magic #dragons #hiddenlands