Twix Family/Fey/Practice

After Practice at the Agyrian Academy of Combative Skill...

The Lady Fey can be seen, sweaty and dishevelled in her practice gear, plodding the Agyrian streets back toward her rooms above the metalsmith. She pauses at a booth and leans her practice lance against it, and pulls out a coin to buy some fruit. The excited shopkeeper bows to her and grins, proud to have been the recipient of a purchase from the Judge of the realm.

"Lady Fey, do enjoy those, they're just in from the south, and so delicious! Japes they're called."

"Thank you. What was your name?" she smiles back and bites into one of the glossy, purple-green fruits.

"U-uh, Tinder, milady Judge!" he stutters with surprise.

"Well, my thanks to you again, Tinder. Your shop always looks so tempting after practice."

"I am flattered, milady! You do look as though you've been working hard, can I offer the services of my son Twig here to carry your lance for you to your destination? He's very energetic..." Fey and Tinder look toward the young boy, perhaps 11 or 12 years old, who has just emerged from the inside of the shop, skidding to a halt with a large crate of fresh produce. The boy blushes when he sees the Judge smiling at him, and ducks his head behind the crate.

"Father, sorry I wasn't faster, father..." he mumbles into the vegetables.

"Your father here has said you would be strong enough and fleet of foot to carry my lance back with me to my abode, young Twig," Fey says with a smile to Tinder. She understands the energy children of this age posess, and how willing the father must be for him to get out from under his feet and doing something responsible. "Is this true?"

Shocked eyes appear from behind the wooden crate. They look quickly to the lance against the produce stand, then back to the dishevelled but dignified Fey. "I-I... I would be honoured, milady Judge!!" he stammers, afraid and excited all at once.

"Good then, I can't very well eat these delicious fruits and carry my lance at the same time. Can he attend me immediately, Tinder? Or has he duties to finish first?"

"Right away, he can! Right Twig?" A hasty nod from the wide-eyed boy.

"Yessir!" he looks around frantically for a place to put down the vegetables.

"Here, give those to me. Mind you carry that equipment properly, or you'll hear about it!"

"Yessir!" The gangly boy drops the crate into his father's waiting arms and dashes around the stall, gingerly placing his hands on the worn wood of the lance and picking it up.

"Ready then, Twig?" Fey asks. "We're heading down Second Street, and turn at the pub, ok? Off we go. Thanks again, goodman Tinder." Fey salutes the shopman with her half-eaten jape fruit and strides off down the street, Twig following close behind.

Several minutes later, they arrive at the metalshop. "This is the end of the journey, Twig," Fey declares, and turns to find the boy red-faced and sweaty, but grinning. He puts on a more dignified face when he sees her looking, but she smiles. "I saw that grin. Here, trade me," she holds out one hand with a small silver coin, and the other to receive her lance.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome, and thank you for a service well performed. I'll look for you again should I be so tired after practice."

"Of course, lady Judge! Thank you!" Twig is almost glowing with excitement.

"Very well. Be on your way back home now, your father needs you. Good day, young Twig."

"Thank you! Have a wonderful day, Lady Fey!" Twig dashes off back towards home.

Fey turns and wearily begins climbing the flight of stairs, a small smile dancing about her lips. "Such spirit here..." she muses again, as she often has.