The young man took Flint's haphazard description of events with a stoic expression.
He was less calm when Noble and Roan confirmed it was all true. They were able to give Aether a rough timeline of events and discoveries before making it back to the caravan.
After a few questions, the scion of the House of Night simply nodded. "Thank you for the information. I will need some time to process all I have heard."
"Take all the time you need, Your Highness," Flint smirked. "It's not like we are in a rush."
"Ignore him," Roan shurgged. "It took me a while to wrap my head around things."
"I was there for all of it, and I am still wrapping my head around it," the floating woman added.
"Yes, well, I shall do my best to gather my thoughts quickly. Thank you all again. This was most enlightening." Aether dipped his head.
Noble wondered if he regretted coming with them on this journey to this particular Seed. He had chosen them over anyone in his clan, and they had landed themselves in quite a perilous situation.
If the young man wished that he hadn't picked this particular mission with Roan's misfit cohort, he didn't show it. He bore the whole situation with an air of grace that befitted royalty.
Perhaps that was why Flint had given him the nickname, 'Your Highness.'
As they approached the camp, Syrce came out to meet them and welcomed them with open arms.
"There they are. The heroes that took on a Dragon to save our scout, Young Aether!"
As usual, when the Saint made a proclamation, the soldiers with her stopped to cheer. While Noble and Flint were becoming used to Syrce's easy praise, Roan and Aether shifted uncomfortably under the eyes of the group.
It was the Transcendent who had kept the Prince from escaping the hill by awakening the creatures in the lake. If not for her, the whole caravan might have been dragon food before the day was through.
Instead, the group had set an encampment that was far enough away from Bastion to keep the Pink Ones from fleeing, but close enough to watch if the Prince decided to try to leave the former Home of Imagination again.
The air in the camp was festive. One of their own had been saved from the jaws of death. To Noble's relief, no one questioned why Aether's name had changed from whatever the scout's name had been. Either no one knew the man who had been watching over Bastion, or they simply accepted that a change of the guard had occurred.
The fact didn't change that they were all very happy to see Aether was still alive.
It called for a celebration.
Since the group was still waiting for word from the sea, they had nothing else to do and threw themselves into the party for their prodigal scout with abandon.
Even though some had seen the story unfold from afar, much of it had been blocked by the rubble and the hill itself. The people were hungry for the tale of heroism, and they ate each detail as if it were the most delicious of morsels.
That was not to say there wasn't food. Even without Cook, the kitchen managed a celebratory feast. Fruit and nuts from the surrounding trees–the ones which were safe to eat—were added to their meat stores and other supplies.
By the time the meal was ready to be served, the menu was quite respectable.
Someone had even used one of Mirage's relics to turn some of the fruit juice into a drink akin to wine. Noble wasn't willing to try the concoction, but many of the other soldiers, including Flint, were happy for the refreshment.
"I'm not you," Flint scoffed when Noble tried to warn him of her experience with the tea. "I can handle my tea and my liquor."
As dusk fell, Syrce gave her version of the tale, peppering it with the drama that she knew her audience would like to hear.
"And then Lady Bel, having pulled Young Aether from the clutches of the dragon, found herself bathed in the Prince's mighty flames."
The Saint waved her hand like a burst of fire as she walked between the blanket-tables of her audience. Many of the servants gasped.
Smirking, Syrce descended with a mighty flourish.
"Engulfed in the light that rivaled the sun, our Realm Walker did not blink in the face of danger. She came out of the flames, her cape flapping in the breeze without a single hair on her head being singed."
The soldiers closest to Noble looked at her with astonishment. Noble smiled at them but said nothing.
Under the jellied hat and helmet that had been worn, there was no way for Syrce to have seen the condition of the lady's blonde hair. Syrce also hadn't seen Noble's skin, or she never would have left her friend in such a miserable state.
The Saint wove a tale of fiction, but Child of Promise knew better than to correct her. Roan's heroism and Flint's bravery were also told in ways that would form legends, and in the end, everyone fawned over Aether like he was the kingdom's most treasured son.
He bore up under their scrutiny and adoration as well as Noble could have hoped. Inside, Child of Promise could feel his discomfort, and she sent him some calm to help.
'Poor guy,' Noble realized too late that her thought had been transmitted. She used to be much better at this, but after days of being almost constantly in communication with Flint in her head, she had gotten lazy.
'Poor guy?!' Flint retorted. 'He is a scout being treated like a king!'
He took a deep swig of the wine.
'You don't seem to be suffering much,' Child of Promise shook her head.
'Maybe not on the outside,' Flint tilted up his chin.
Noble looked to Roan for help, only to realize that he wasn't privy to the conversation. She sighed.
It was no use arguing, so she was relieved when Syrce and Aether returned to join them.
"I had to pry this young man from the ladies over there. It seems the maidservants have a new beau that they all want to claim," the Saint could not hide the amusement in her voice.
"He's a golden boy, we get it." Flint barely contained his eye roll.
"Did you wait for us?" Aether looked at the uneaten food.
"It was no trouble to wait," Roan assured him. "We would never begin without our hostess."
Sitting down, Syrce bumped Noble's shoulder gently with her own. "You are becoming more famous by the day, my friend."
"I wish you would stop embellishing my exploits. They make me look far better than I am." Noble smiled to show she had no ill will.
"What embellishments? You stood up to dragon fire, and you look more stunning than ever!" The Saint's grey eyes glistened.
"That's due to Titus. He kept me from being roasted when my fire charm was at its limit, and then he healed my burns until I was better than new." Noble nodded at her companion.
"You were hurt?!" The Saint looked ready to call a healer. "Forgive me! Your cloak looked so pristine, and your skin is like porcelain now. I just assumed..."
Noble stroked the soft fabric. "The cloak is divine, and I am not. It could handle the heat. Do not worry, though. I am fine now, as you said. Better than fine, actually!"
"Thank you, Titus." Syrce refilled the man's cup with more fermented drink. "I will dig among relics and find you a better fire protection, Bel. There has to be something in there for you!"
Aether looked like he wanted to speak, but something was preventing him.
"Did you have something you wanted to add?" Noble asked him.
Relieved, he nodded. "Your fire charm, does it insert in your armor?"
"Not in this one, no." Child of Promise had armor that it could go inside, but the set she was using for the Nightmare had no such slot. "It hangs around my neck. Would you like to see?"
Unlike the armor, Noble had yet to dismiss the protective amulet.
From beneath her tunic, she pulled the charm and the chain attached to it.
Her eyes went wide.