And His Companion: Part Two

     The Lupe had to fight back a wince. He'd tried to make sure that the mayor was reminded of Roberta's name before he announced their arrival, but clearly the small Kacheek hadn't taken the hint.

     He glanced at Roberta. She was smiling, but he knew her well enough to recognize that the smile was not sincere. Years before she'd explained that it was the "polite diplomat mask" which all envoys had to cultivate so as not to make obvious their thoughts when discussing delicate matters with foreigners.

     The yellow Lupe pasted a much less convincing smile on his face as the people of Cogham rushed forwards to greet him. Normally he didn't find the attention irksome until it had been going for a few hours, but Roberta's discomfort was a weight on the Lupe's conscience he could not shift.

     As the crowd steered them towards the buffet tables, Tor found his eyes drawn to a slightly odd spot on his arm, where his pelt lay awkwardly against his skin. Thought mostly hidden under his yellow fur, if one looked closely they could see a scar there. He'd gotten that scar fighting the Black Knight of market town. With his sword arm damaged so much he'd instinctively dropped his weapon, leaving himself wide open to attack. Only quick thinking and quicker spellcasting from Roberta had saved him from being skewered.

     The Lupe toyed with the chain of his amulet habitually, as he always did when he was thinking. It wasn't like he didn't understand her frustration. Though in Cogham he was celebrated as a hero, and in the rest of Meridell he was well respected for his deeds, he would never have the same sort of widespread recognition and notoriety of heroes like Sir Jeran or Lady Lisha. Outside of Meridell and parts of Brightvale he was mostly unknown, without even a token mention in the Gallery of Heroes or the Neopedia. But this didn't bother Tor. He was doing the work he'd always wanted to do, defending Meridell as a knight. Roberta, on the other hand, had left behind her place as a diplomat to be a sorceress. She had loudly proclaimed to her uncle, the king of Brightvale, that practicing magic was the only path that would ever make her happy.

     Eight years later she was a shopkeeper. Her shop sold magical artifacts, yes, but most of them were mass produced fare that she bought from alchemists in Neopia Central. All of her attempts to secure a real position as a sorceress had come to nothing.

     "Tor?" Roberta said suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. "Why do you still wear that thing?"

     Surprised, he pulled on the chain he'd been playing with so that the pendant came free from under his shirt. "What, this? Well, when Kelland gave it to me, he said to never take it off. So I haven't."

     "Yeah, but that was because he was being all mysterious and vague so as not to panic you about the fact that he'd essentially chosen you to save all of Neopia from certain doom," she pointed out dryly, picking up a fruit from the table. "He just wanted to be sure you'd have it on when the Darkest Faerie showed up. We defeated her, so you don't have to wear the amulet anymore."

     He grinned sheepishly. "Call me paranoid, but I'm not so sure. Have you talked to any of the Altadorian Council recently? Last time I visited Torakor, he told me that Fyora lost the Darkest Faerie's statue when Faerieland fell out of the sky. Altador has been spending every free moment he has out trying to find it, but so far there's been no sign."

     He tucked the amulet back in his shirt with a shrug. "If she does come back one day, the amulet won't be able to protect me if it's in a chest in my room. I just don't want to be caught napping, that's all."

     "A most wise course of action on your part, sir," the Cogham mayor put in, making Tor jump. Most of the crowd had dispersed to enjoy the festival, and he hadn't realized the Kacheek was eavesdropping. "A hero's work is never done, after all!"

     Tor could see a faint flicker of annoyance pass through Roberta's expression. The Lupe quickly turned to the Kacheek and smiled. "Yes well most would call it paranoia. There's no shame in wanting to feel safe after troubled times."

     The Lupe quickly diverted the conversation into safer waters, and eventually the mayor was called away to attend something else. As the Kacheek wandered off, Roberta quirked an eyebrow. "Does your fanboy even know what the amulets do that makes it such a "wise course of action" for you to keep yours?"

     "I don't know, but I doubt it," Tor admitted with a shrug. "Sorry about that, I really wasn't trying to make you look like you were being complacent or anything."

     "I know, it's not your fault," the Acara replied. Her expression turned more serious as she added, "So the statue is missing? Odd, I'd heard nothing about that."

     "Well I imagine that Fyora doesn't want it common knowledge, in case people panic," Tor replied with a shrug. "But given the fact that she was in the public fountain, I imagine that at least everyone in Faerieland knows."

     Roberta's hand instinctively fell towards the wand that was strapped to her belt. There was a shadow of worry in her eyes. "Maybe I should start wearing the amulet again. I mean it's been years since Faerieland fell and we've heard nothing, but that could just mean that she learned from last time and is moving more subtly."

     "Hey, easy," Tor said, putting his hands up. "No need to start up conspiracy theories or chase after imaginary ghosts. I'm just taking precautions. Until we get some sort of concrete evidence it's all just guesswork."

     "Yeah, I guess so," Roberta acknowledged. Any further conversation they might have had on the subject was interrupted by a gaggle of small children approaching them. They were too young to remember Tor's actions firsthand, but they'd heard the stories from their parents and wanted to meet Cogham's hero for real.

     With an internal sigh of resignation, Tor turned and began to answer their questions.

     * * * * *

     When the kids started quizzing Tor about his previous exploits in their town, Roberta turned her attention back to the buffet table. She couldn't exactly ignore him- having four ears made that impossible- but as a diplomat she had schooled herself in appearing not to be listening. Behind her polite mask, she noticed that Tor was being unusually humble in his retelling of the battles against the Ixi raiders.

     Trying to make me feel better, she realized. Or at least trying to keep me from feeling worse. Ah, Tor...

     When she was alone in her shop it was so easy for Roberta to stew in her own juices, to embellish the negatives in her memories and gloss over the good. The Lupe certainly wasn't perfect, and he had smirked when Skarl ignored the sorceress, instead crediting the "brave knight" and himself with having done all the work. Now he had children looking up to him in awe, while she argued prices with penny pinching battledomers. It would have been easy to resent the knight for that.

     But this was Tor. He'd faced down an entire pack of Werelupes singlehandedly for her sake, including the Werelupe King. He'd flung himself in the way of arrows and fireballs and blasts of magic to shield her, often at the expense of great personal injury. It wasn't fair of her to begrudge him getting the recognition he deserved for his heroism.

     Knowing this didn't lessen her discontent any.

     "You know," she said to him when the children had finally left. "I sometimes wonder if this isn't how she felt- the Darkest Faerie."

     Startled, Tor turned towards Roberta and tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

     "Well, you remember how we explored the library in Altador, right?" she asked. "While we were there a lot of books made reference to how wise Altador was. But the examples they cited of his wisdom were usually instances where the Darkest Faerie suggested something that would have made things easier, or been a bit morally dubious, and Altador shot her down. I can't help but wonder if part of the reason she betrayed them in the end wasn't that she was feeling underappreciated."

     The Lupe's ears drooped. "Roberta..."

     "I know it's petty and childish of me," she said. "But I can't help that. Not liking that I feel a certain way doesn't make the feeling go away. It... it just keeps building and building until I think I'm going to burst! I get irrationally angry at people like Cogham's mayor or my uncle, and sometimes I want to fling a fireball in their faces just so they'll give me a little respect!"

     For a long time, Tor did not reply. Finally he said, "You know, those books also said that when the Darkest Faerie betrayed Altador, she broke the king's heart. I know if you got yourself arrested for throwing a fireball at King Hagan, I would feel the same way."

     The Acara stared at Tor. She legitimately didn't know how to respond.

     "I think," the Lupe said putting a hand on her shoulder, "that we could use a vacation. Just the two of us, away from Brightvale or Meridell."

     "Oh?" Roberta said. "And where is it that you think we should go?"

     "Somewhere that hasn't forgotten you're just as much a hero as I am, if not more of one."

To be continued...