This course, much to Kat’s dismay, was a salad. The warrior princess tucked in regardless, eating with her usual gusto. Rosalyn, on Ann’s other hand, looked the dish over appreciatively before attacking it herself.

Ann lifted a leaf of what looked to be cabbage, though the orange colouring was wrong. It was a neat little pile of the strange orange plant, with nuts scattered delicately over a vinegar based dressing. Taking a bite, she found it to be some sort of berry used with the vinegar, but not one she could name. The leaves tasted enough like cabbage that she could ignore the weird colour and munched away happily.

“What’s the dressing?” Ann asked.

“Ah, Yunton Berry. Somethin’ from the south that we get brought up ‘ere,” Kat said. “I’m pretty neutral on it. The vinegar helps.”

“I think it’s delicious!” Rosalyn hummed happily. “The sweetness and the sour of the vinegar go really well together, then the nuts and, well, the Heart’s Leaf isn’t much more than a delivery for the rest, but it’s still good and crispy!”

“That what this cabbage is?” Ann said, taking another bite.

“Yup! We knew a farmer in the next town over who grew a lot of it. River’s Crest would get any that he didn’t need or have to tithe. Every time he came through, he’d joke about his neighbours hating the stuff. Apparently, if it’s all you eat, you get gassy, and with it being his main crop? Well, he sure ate his fair share,” Rosalyn giggled. “Most farms work like that, though. You eat a ton of what you grow and have to rely on others for the rest. Hunters for meat, the baker to make the bread, the mason for buildings, carpenter for simple wood structures. Paths help a lot with all of that, but it’s still a community effort to survive.”

“Kind of hard to imagine, sitting here,” Ann said, looking out over the lavish ball full of tables with food.

“It’s definitely different,” Rosalyn nodded, her face growing solemn. “Hard springs and summers hit towns like mine the worst. If we don’t get our reserves properly built up, or there’s a blight, bandits, what have you, things get tough. No one here would understand any of that, but you know what? Good for them. I’m sure some of them deserve it, and now that I’ve got this privilege, I’m going to share it with Mom and Dad the best I can.”

“Have they been doing ok with what we’ve sent back?” Ann asked.

“Yup. Got a letter the other day that the mercenaries in town have been a big help, too. They’re still in the dark about the real reason for the help, but it’s making a difference. Dad’s angry that they’re stealing his hobby, but Mom’s making him rest more. Gods know his back needs it. Probably his hands, too. Old Beth down the way got her fence repaired, they helped dig a new well, though that was a pain in the butt with the ground being so cold. One of them apparently has some survival based skills around digging, so it worked out. Simple, but huge helps.”

“I pray that we don’t need ‘em,” Kat said, wiping her mouth. “Time’ll tell on tha’. I’m happy tae have ‘em close just in case.”

“I’ve been hearing more about the Swarm lately,” Ann said. “Do most folk have plans in place to get out of danger? I’m a little curious what to expect.”

“Most do, aye. It’s a time o’ trouble fer everyone. Warped everywhere and far more dangerous than normal. With our high concentration o’ Seeds, we get hit particularly hard. Small towns don’t last. That’s why our main cities are so big, tae house the countryside.”

“Well, at least there’s a plan.”

“Then there are the myths about the Great Change. Don’t forget about that.”

“Kat?” Ann prompted.

“This is more o’ Bren’s thing. Bren, c’mere,” she called, leaning back in her chair and using her legs under the table to maintain her balance. “Bring yer plate. We’re talkin’ about prophecy shite.”

Bren and Lucia quickly joined them, and even Krisnaal turned to pay attention. Junia was occupied, speaking with a man who had approached her. Something about trade deals that Ann had only caught snippets of.

“Oh, you’re getting into some of the prophecies?” Krisnaal asked. “Always loved reading them, even if they’re a bit doom and gloom. Let me see, the Great Change was something an ancient Seer prophecised, what, thousands of years ago?”

“Correct,” Bren nodded. “It was two thousand seven hundred sixty-nine years ago. Seer Jeremiah Clain.”

“Right,” Krinsaal nodded her thanks. “So this guy has a path all about seeing probabilities. Most people called him a Seer because it just made more sense that he’s able to see the future for most. Now, there are actual Seers, but Jeremiah wasn’t one of them. He studied math and nature. Migratory patterns of animals, weather patterns, and many sciences that had become difficult since the Gods’ return. It is largely his work that founds our understanding of this world, actually. Or at the very least, our region.

“Anyway, the Warped were a new phenomenon when Jeremiah was around. The man had dropped most everything to rush and research the creatures in their new states. Given that they were incredibly violent, which hasn’t changed much to this day, he needed to keep his distance. So fascinated with them was he that he saw the signs of the first ever Swarm. We had no indication something like this would happen, everything was new. The kingdom as it was back then was devastated, and only the walls of Korvas and Graven Keep held. Indelholm was still in its infancy, and Thalten had no defences whatsoever.

“Jeremiah was, by his choice, on the front lines with the defenders of the cities. He watched and analysed, helped coordinate soldiers and troops, and wound up being one of the best tactical minds with his specific skills. His focus, however, never shifted from the Warped. One night, in the depths of the Swarm, holed up in Korvas with no escape in sight, he had what some call an episode. Ranting and raving, yelling and grabbing anyone who came to hear him. It was to the point that he was restrained and kept under watch. A scribe, more dedicated than most of their colleagues, recorded his words. Bren, if you’d be so kind? I don’t remember the exact wording.”

Bren cleared his throat. “Actually, this one escapes my memory. You would not happen to have some record of it, would you?”

Krisnaal called over a servant, and the woman rushed off.

“That’ll only take a few. I keep a copy of the compiled prophecies in my library. Yeah, it’s frivolous reading, but a girl needs to relax.”

“Readin’ prophecies is about the last thing I’d call relaxin’,” Kat laughed. “End o’ the world and misfortune. Even the more optimistic ones’re tangled up wit’ danger.”

“Not familiar,” Lucia said. “Know some from Bryltia. Is all.”

“Prophecies are the words of the Gods!” Rosalyn exclaimed, looking at Lucia with shock. “I mean, they’re mostly vague and no one knows if they’ll actually ever happen, but they’re super important!”

“Have read all?” Lucia asked Rosalyn.

“Well, no, but I’ve been told as much.”

“No judge,” Lucia said with a stern look, then nodded, concluding her thoughts on the matter.

“Ah, here’s the volume,” Krisnaal said, opening a tome she was handed. “Let’s seeee, ah, here. Prophesied by Jeremiah Clain, recorded by Scribe Yansid Polsner.”

See thee now, in the darkest of nights,

Death surrounds you, most desperate of plights,

The time has come for might to be tested,

Though many a hero shall surely be bested,

Years upon years, I have slumbered in stone,

In earth, in wood, in creature and bone,

Silent and lonely, a dark, desolate dream,

Time was simple, or so it would seem,

Alas, they come, the rulers, resplendent,

Proceeding their coming, no warning sent

Pain and agony, war and strife

Remorseful as they were, we paid with life,

Divine presence, upon this world so changed,

Too much, no more! Resistance must be arranged,

Time marches on. Still, none remember,

I was here for you all, now and forever,

From the first spark to the end of all things,

Now, through your memories, I am denied my wings,

Transgressions upon me, no longer to be borne,

Your walls, your lives, your memories, be torn,

Flesh be twisted, minds unravelled,

Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hated,

Mine are the hands that will show you the flawed,

Through pain and twisting, your face to be clawed,

The wolf shall come, the ravenous beast,

Devour us all, such a terrible feast,

The land will swim in blood and meat,

An endless flood, with valor you meet,

Strength wanes, voice grows weak,

Mind rent, I give thee this warning,

With new eyes shall this world see morning.”

The party sat there in silence. Ann felt a chill. “Are all prophecies divine?”

“Correct,” Krisnaal said, not noticing the drop in the mood of those around her.

“Did… did Jeremiah ever say who gave him this one?”

“See, that’s the interesting part,” Krisnaal said with a grin. “No one. He had no bleeding clue, and none of the Gods have claimed it, though they never do anyway. I swear they have more fun watching us figure out who gave what prophecy than coming up with the things. It’s pretty grim, and not a particularly happy one. Scholars have poured over it for a long while.”

“There was a period of persecution against Lupine specifically because of those final lines,” Bren said, a sour look on his face. “If a wolf was going to herald an end, then people wanted to be safe. It was misguided and awful, but it happened.”

“You don’t think…” Ann trailed off, scratching at her ears.

“We’re gonna talk about tha’ later,” Kat decided, flicking her eyes at Krisnaal then back at Ann. “Fer now, it’s just some stupid words on some stupid paper. Lots o’ it sounds like threats an’ ravin’s tae me. Vague bullshite as always.”

“Who knows?” Krisnaal said with the energy of a camp counselor telling a ghost story. “A ravenous wolf is upon us already.”

The group stared at her, not daring respond lest they lead her where they were all apparently thinking.

“What? What are you all staring at me for? Ann’s already finished her plate. First out of all of us,” Krisnaal said, then let out a hearty laugh. “Orenous’ tits, you all are way too serious about some folklore. It’s been over two thousand years since that thing was recorded, and nothing’s happened. Maybe we already avoided it. Who but the Gods know?”

“Lady Layton,” a servant said politely. “Mrs. Cornwall wishes to speak with you. A personal matter she would not divulge.”

“Thought that might happen. Tell her I’ll be there momentarily.”

The servant bowed and retreated.

“Alas, my station calls. Cornwall is a good friend, though. I will see you youngsters later.” With that, she got up and made her way after the servant, who was waiting a polite distance away.

“Did any of you hear that before?” Ann whispered to the group. “What the fuck?”

“That’s… a lot to unpack,” Rosalyn agreed quietly. “Add on that no one knows who gave him the prophecy? What in the world could have said those things?”

“Theory was that it was an unknown God,” Bren said. “Over the years, there have been several apocalyptic prophecies, but none quite came to fruition. Either someone was able to thwart mortal machinations, or society just swerved to avoid the situation entirely. That this one has been around for so long, with no hint at its meaning, has stirred many a late night debate over drinks. Some of my friends think it a jest from some trickery God or Goddess, meant to scare the mortals and send them on a wild goose chase. Others, more devout, believe it is a message, and one that came far too early.”

“On the first Swarm? That was significant, right?” Ann said.

“Aye,” Kat muttered. “Dark times, with a dark omen. Bad shit’s all over that prophecy, an’ I don’t like it.”

“Or that I’m probably in it,” Ann grumbled.

“Shite, I was hopin’ that was just me,” Kat groaned.

“Something sends a message on the first Swarm, something deeply connected to the Warped, and it’s talking about a Wolf?” Ann dropped her voice so low she wasn’t sure anyone but Kat could hear her. “I’m about as connected to the Warp as someone sane can be, and I’ve got an evil spirit wolf living in my soul that might be the reason I’ve got all these wolf bits to begin with. Who the fuck else could it be?”

“Ye’ve got me there,” Kat whispered back. “Gods, but does it change anythin’? We’re not ‘ere tae bring on the Warped, or a Swarm, or the… what was it, Bren?”

“Great Change?”

“Aye. We can’t do shite to cause that, and Orenous is tellin’ us tae keep huntin’ Seeds. We’ve gotten side tracked by busy shite, but we really should be gettin’ back to that as soon as my greaves are done.”

“I totally agree,” Rosalyn nodded. “It was a nice break, but we do have a job to do.”

The other three nodded in agreement. “Damn it,” Ann groaned. “Thought tonight would be fun hijinks and dancing. So far I’ve danced, scared the shit out of a guy, who I guess we kinda made up over, then got told some really bad news. This suuuuuuuuucks.”

“Well, next should be the last course, I suggest you get in some dancing,” Bren said, then pushed over some of his salad to Kat.

“Not hungry?” the princess asked.

“Not for this. My mind is running, and my stomach detests the sound of food at the moment. I think I will settle for lighter fair tonight.”

“Won’t hear me complainin’,” Kat laughed as she speared a few leaves of Heart’s Leaf. “So, looks like the stares are gettin’ better. Been keepin’ an eye on Biagio, an’ he’s talkin’ tae a lot o’ people.”

“Same,” Lucia nodded. Many smiles. Friendly man. Foolish man, but friendly?”

“Total himbo,” Ann sighed.

“You’re gonna have to explain that one, babe,” Rosalyn giggled.

“Ok, so, in the old days people would do up their makeup and have surgeries to make them look kinda doll-like with big lips, tits, butt, the whole thing. They used an absolute ton of makeup to the point you could barely see skin. The people who did it also weren’t the smartest people, or played that up, and the look became known as bimbo. Basically dumb and pretty. Guys needed a version of that, and thus himbo was born.”

“Thank the Gods I avoided that designation,” Bren chuckled. “I prefer my wit.”

“You’re a twink, though,” Ann said, pointing at him with a loaded fork.

“Pardon you?” Bren scoffed.

“Yup. Smart, skinny boy who’s way too pretty for his own damn good. Not too tall, but not short either. You’re reasonably fit for your frame and look boyish. Total twink material. That one doesn’t have anything to do with brains, so you’re welcome,” Ann giggled.

“I… hm,” Bren said, cupping his chin. “I do not disagree with the definition, but the word seems derogatory.”

“Nah, it’s just a stupid word to describe a type.”

“Like dude?” Rosalyn asked.

“Yeah, dude,” Ann laughed, giving Rosalyn finger-guns. “Like that. I’m never going to hear that word right again after Biagio.”

“I weep for what may come of our language with you influencing it,” Bren sighed.

“I haven’t even gotten started with the stupid slang kids were coming up when I was an adult. It’s not even real words anymore, just truncations of other words mashed together. Do you wanna hear some?”

“I… do not think that wise,” Bren said, but he looked conflicted. That scholar brain was fighting the propriety brain and Ann grinned as she watched the war behind his eyes. Finally, the scholar won. “Fine, just a short sampling.”

“Yo, this dish be bussin. No cap, on God. You feelin’ me rizzler?” Ann said. A massive grin split her lips as she watched Bren’s face contort in confusion as he tried to figure out what the actual hell she’d just said. Ann felt the giddy glee she always got when she got someone to cringe at stupid slang. Usually it was kids who thought someone her age was weird, but this was just as good.

“I’m so lost,” Rosalyn admitted. “What?”

“Hey, this food is really good! I swear! Do you agree, attractive man?” Ann translated.

“How in any of the Hells does that translate from the other?”

Ann shrugged. “A lot of boredom and kids raised to be online all the time connected to hundreds and thousands of other kids making shit up? Honestly, was a really interesting microcosm. If adults were out of the picture online, it’d probably be some Lord of the Flies shit. Entire new languages, hierarchy, chaos. It was already chaos, but still. More. Lord of the Flies is a book, not some monster, about a group of kids stranded on an island.”

“Thank you,” Bren nodded. “It sounds interesting.”

“I’ll give you the short version of it later. Sorry to say I don’t remember all the details, but it was good.”

“Well, this has thoroughly derailed my mind from the prophecy,” Bren laughed. “However, I must excuse myself. The washroom calls.”

“Honestly, me too,” Ann said, feeling her insides clench a little.

“Feck it, let’s all just get it o’er wit’,” Kat declared. “Come on, little lamb. Girls stick together.”

“Me too?” Lucia asked.

“If ye want,” Kat offered.

Lucia paused for a moment, then shrugged and sat back down. “Will finish eating. Am fine for now.”

“Alright, be back in a sec,” Ann waved, walking off toward a side door of the hall.