"A fire?" Adora's heart skipped a beat. She sniffed the salty air, alarmed to find the acrid bite of smoke.
"On the docks. And... I saw a pirate ship too." Nolan looked anxiously to the Sheriff again.
"Could this outing not wait until another day? Let's turn back," said Hersillia. The trio stood in a huddle group, hanging back on the path.
"Pathetic," declared the Sheriff, and swept brusquely past them. "I cannot burn."
When Adora had returned from her walk in the with Cinbran in the maze, they found the sun room empty. Adora had tried her best to not show disappointment. Nicobar explained that the tea had been cut short, and that she should go do some shopping with Lady Hersillia instead. Along with the Nolan and the Sheriff, of course.
The shopping wound up taking days. She was sent to a florist, dress shops, and today to a bakery on the waterfront. Hersillia could shed no light on the situation either. Nicobar was given to flights of fancy and it was not unusual for him to change plans last minute, and he had locked himself away for the same days. Adora did not know what he was up to, but it reeked of another unwelcome party where she would be the center piece. Other suitor events had been rescheduled in the meantime. While she missed Sylven, at least she hadn't had to deal with Cinbran in days.
The trio exchanged grimaces, and followed lingeringly behind the Sheriff. Fat plumes of black smoke rose from the dock as they descended the hill.
Nolan clutched the saber at his hip with white knuckles, but insisted on walking in front of Adora. As they drew nearer to the docks, ash floated down and settled on them. The Sheriff marched down the hazy, choking street undeterred. Adora could just make out the outlines of the ships in the port.
By the water, she saw the building that was ablaze. Angry, red flames lashed out from the windows. Her pulse quickened to be so near to danger, but the Sheriff refused to slow. People ran back and forth, hauling buckets of water to throw on the blaze. It was a mix of Stormwatch civilians and sailors. Though she was unsure who, if any, among the crowd might be pirates. The only royal guard was the trembling one leading her way.
To her surprise, she realized were also faces she recognized among the commotion. Most of them were the same, so it was not difficult to pick out the slight figures hurrying through the smoke. The Echos and Gristle, huge mountain of a man that he was, were racing between the building and the waterfront carrying buckets. They seemed to be heading this effort.
Sharply, the Sheriff stopped and caused Echo, the real one, to knock into the metal man with teeth-rattling force. He stumbled back and dropped his bucket, water splashing onto the cobblestone.
"We meet again," the Sheriff rumbled. Echo's mouth flapped open and closed like a fish.
"Are you here to help, Sheriff?" He finally managed, fumbling to scoop up his bucket. The fire crackled and popped, the light of it illuminating the Sheriff's metal husk.
"The fire? No. Do not be foolish. That is not my jurisdiction."
"What about him?" He asked, pointing to Nolan. The guard somehow paled even more. "Where are the Guards? We need help here."
"I state again: not my jurisdiction. I would like to know, however, what you are doing trying to handle this alone?"
Gristle's hulking form emerged from the smoke, his face ash covered and dirty. He had look a cold hatred the Princess did not know he was capable of. "'Cause we live here, Sheriff. We ain't just gonna stand by and let our Kingdom burn."
Adora looked desperately to Nolan and Hersillia and wished that she was with the Phantom was there. Varena would just grab her by the hand, and take her where she needed to be. No drama, no fuss, no fighting.
She found that Hersilla had a face of concentration she wasn't expecting. Her lips moved over the words, but Adora could not make them out. The Lady made a small, almost unseen hand gesture toward the Sheriff. His metal spine stiffened, and he froze for a moment.
"Come along, Adora," he rumbled. "We will not be late for the baker when they are fulfilling such a large last minute order for you."
Hersilla gently nudged her arm, and Adora reluctantly followed him. Gristle gave her a sad, distant smile as they passed. The heat made her skin tight and painful on the side, but her shame burned hotter. It reflected back to her in the devastated eyes of those around her, so she cast her own gaze down to the wet, ashy ground.
"What did you do?" Whispered Nolan to Lady Hersilla. "Was that magic?"
"I have been reading many old books of late," she said with a little smile. "The only trouble is that they all, naturally, relate to the human condition. He is about as far from human as Heaven is from Hell."
The Sheriff stiffly held the door open for them, only a few precarious doors down from where the fire raged. Lady Hersillia and the Princess slipped inside the bakery, but Nolan hung back. He could still feel the heat of the fire against his turned back and his conscious was not sitting well with him. Like a stomach ache, but in his soul.
"S-sheriff, uhm," he stammered. "I think I'll wait out here. G-guard the door. If anything goes wrong with the fire I can alert you."
"That is permissible." The Sheriff said no more, and the door banged shut behind him.
Nolan glanced in through the window that was lined with all manner of sweets, and waited until they had all vanished behind the double doors with the anxious-looking chef. Now was his chance. If he was going to take it, it had to be now. Still, his feet felt like anchors weighing him down to the spot. His lance rattled in his shaking, hands slick with sweat.
Had the pirates set this fire? He wouldn't put it past them. Although his opinion on bandits had been changing lately, he was still firm about his feelings toward pirates. They were dangerous and unpredictable, then sailed off to the next destination where they intended to cause yet more mayhem. It would not surprise him if they had sensed the obvious weakness in the Kingdom and decided to have a little fun with some arson.
He watched the townsfolk hurry water to and fro between the sea and the burning building. He recognized the Echos, bandits that worked under Grimholt, and assumed that the hulking man must also be an outlaw. Grimholt had told him that if he wanted training to find them. Steeling his courage, he rested his lance against the building and made his way anxiously to the bandits.
When he was before the towering man, who glared down at him with the same hostility from before, Nolan almost wished he could melt into the ground. "I-I'm here to help."
The big man's eyebrows quirked, but he said nothing. Only nodded once and shoved the pail of water into his hands before vanishing in the haze. Nolan swallowed deeply, and began to lug the incredibly heavy bucket toward the burning building.
Inside the bakery, the baker had readied a selection of cake samples and Adora and Hersillia were in the process of trying them when suddenly the air in the room felt like it was being sucked into one corner. A tear appeared in that corner, ripping the air apart to reveal an angry Nicobar on the other side.
"Sheriff!" The Prince bellowed. "You are needed at the castle at once!"
"Majesty," said the Sheriff with a stiff bow. "With all due respect, Sire, your orders were clear: I am not to leave Princess-"
"Well these are new orders! Come through the tear this instant or so help me I shall send you to a scrap pile! Something has come up and we must deal with it. Posthaste."
"Yes, Sire." The Sheriff stepped easily through the rift. It was a new addition to his enchantment, one that allowed the Prince access to him at a moment's notice. Only the Sheriff could withstand traversing through it.
As the rift slowly began to knit the space back together, Nicobar pointed at Adora and Hersillia. "You two are to return to the palace immediately. If you even think about sneaking off to the forest, so help me God I'll-" The rift sealed up, and air rushed back into the room, albeit with the unmistakable odor of smoke.
The baker closed early to get safely away from the fire at Adora's urging and promise that Nicobar would not find out. When they left the shop, the women were surprised to find Nolan helping put out the fire. Soon it would be smoldering cinders.
Lady Hersillia caught sight of a familiar face: Calden. That face was marred with a scar that had also blinded one eye, but the Lady didn't find him ugly for it. In fact, she liked his uniqueness. He lacked the upbringing she had, the manners and minutia of court, but she was starting to wonder if those things mattered to her as much as they had to her noble parents.
She was starting to questions many facts that she once held as self evident.
Lately she had started to look forward to Adora's suitor events, not for a chance to mingle and maintain her connections, but rather simply to talk to Calden. Perhaps he wasn't elegant or refined, but he was real and that was refreshing. He was also interested in magic. Not the surface level interest which most members of the court held, but was truly and deeply fascinated. Magic was her passion. She could talk at length about even the most minor detail, and he was willing to listen to every last word. Even asked questions, ones that stumped her, and required she pour through her books.
More and more she just wanted to be close to him, but she knew this temptation would soon have to come to an end. It was one thing for Adora to even consider Grimholt as a spouse, but there were, poorly, written laws that could allow for such loopholes. The Lady was perfectly free to marry whom she chose, but such a choice would come with great consequences. While not a princess, her own marriage needed to someday be secured to someone with equal birthright. If not she would lose her title, deeds, and rank as mage. Then she could not legally practice magic; would be left making illegal pocket spells and starving in the street.
No man was worth that heartache... but Calden was creeping ever closer the more she got to know him.
She did not call out to Calden, but to Nolan. The little guard jumped when she called his name, but he was guilty of nothing.
"Come along. We must return to the castle. Post haste."