“A present? For me? Wha- when-”

  Lazar was astonished. He thought she would've just cooked something nice for him, maybe his favorite dish (mushroom stew with a whole loaf of toasted barley bread), like she had in the last few years, but it seemed like this birthday had yet more exceptions to show him.

  “Well, I think since my little man is all grown up, now, finally part of the over a century world, he deserved a present. Not many of your lot get to this age, especially not foolhardy people like you.” she said, touching his chest with her index finger, smiling. The gap between her left canine and incisor showed itself in all its glory. It was cute. But it was also getting him distracted, so he looked at the wrapped present again. He still had something to say, though.

  “What do you mean with ‘foolhardy’ Liliane?” he grumbled, “I am wise beyond my years, thank you very much.”

  “You punched the last Duke of Irrisin. In the face. Broke his nose and all.”

  “Once! It wasn’t even that strong of a punch! And he deserved it!”

  “You ran three miles on foot while being followed by his guards.”

  Liliane looked at him, suppressing a chuckle, remembering the scene.

  “I would gladly do it again.” he said, smug.

  “I still have the wanted posted somewhere. I remember we framed it when we moved.”

  “They made my chin too big”, he commented, touching his face.

  She eyed him, playfully.

  “That's because you were in that period where you insisted that a beard looked good on you. Well, it did, but you are much better like this, showing your face… Well. I'm getting sidetracked again. Open your present now, I did not spend an evening wrapping just for you to ignore it!”

  And how wrapped it was. It seemed like… A box? But like if the box was padded with something. Cotton, maybe. He tore the black paper covering the present. Underneath was more paper, this time, yellow. He tore it, revealing a white one, and finally, beneath this last layer, the actual present: a small, red, unadorned box.

  Lazar opened it, carefully. A soft giggle could be heard, coming from nowhere, apparently. The giggle reached a crescendo until it melted into a satisfied hum. Inside the box, sat a ring, interwoven from yellow, white, and black strings of… Something. He took it in his hands, seeing that each string did not actually end or begin, but were all a single one, constantly changing colors. He put it in his middle finger and regarded it. It was beautiful.

  “How in the everloving Numen's heart did you manage to acquire this ring?”

  He clearly did not expect something so… Esoteric. And probably very, very expensive, judging by its looks and the evident magics permeeting it.

  “I obviously made it, love”, replied the old woman, proudly “You know I'm good with this stuff.”

  She looked very pleased by her creation, and kept glancing at Lazar's finger.

  “Are you now? Because I clearly remember asking you for a ring many many moons ago, and you said-”

  “And I said ‘I can't make one for you’.” Liliane cut in, stern. “And it was true. Not that I was unable to make one.”

  “Pomáto, pomàto.”

  “Well, no pomàto salad for your breakfast until we jot down a list of what's needed!” She looked around, and then at the ring. “Oh, and try to keep it on as much as you can, and not fidget with it, please. It's…” She touched his hand with her own, and muttered: “Finicky”.

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  “Will do, ma'am.” he smirked. “Ok. Well, I think we need a map, first thing. I should have a pretty recent one in my study, I just need to find where I put it and call it.”

  “It's probably twenty years old, at best. At worst it will be a slab of stone with some alphabet no one uses anymore.”

  He gaffawed.

  “Well, better nothing, don't you think? But you are right. We’ll have to go bu one in Cranesworth. I knew a good cartographer there.”

  He started massaging his temples, deep in thought.

  “The last few years have been very chaotic regarding road maintenance, if what I heard from the merchants is true. We'll also need a couple horses.”

  Liliane's eyes widened, clearly horrified.

  “Oh no, no no no, you won't make me ride that nightspawns. We'll get a cart with a pair of oxen or mules, we are not that tight on time.” she exclaimed, unsettled just by thinking about that animal. “We also need to clear up the timeline, by the way. How much time do we have? If I remember correctly, didn't the prophecy speak about you and how it was fifty moons from your tenth birthday?”

  “Well, the part about the five years was told to me by the lion, not as part of the prophecy, so I don't really know-”

  “Ok, then we really need to find the complete one. Prophecies are a tricky business, this one could actually be the opposite of what you or the talking lion understood. And I don't think you have a way to contact Enad now, do you? So, let's try and find out where to read a copy of the scroll.”

  “Seems like a plan. Ok, now, the basics. Blankets, surely. Rope. Supplies for the first leg of the trip, even if I think it’s best if we stop often to avoid bringing too much luggage with us. trip. A compass, maybe?”

  Liliane scowled.

  “You know I can orient myself with the stars, right?”

  “Yes, but I can't, the sky won't always be clear and we can't exclude there will be times when we'll have to split, or be forcefully separated. Better be prepared. I'll have to check my chest.”

  He sighed, then started tapping his ring and middle finger on the table, rhythmically.

  “I'll get my travel purse and my old bandolier, they should be in the wardrobe with our old knives.” the old woman said.

  “We should pack them too, they are surely more subtle than a literal glowing lance.”

  “Ex-cuse-me, miss,are you badmouthing an actual weapon of the gods? The everlasting lance of undoing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, it's a bit tacky. Hence, the walking stick form.” admitted Lazar.

  “It gives you a certain je ne sais quoi, you know? Like some kind of nobleman… Or the master of a very nice brothel.”

  From the door, two brownish coats, three grey woolen blankets, two lengths of cotton ropes and a compass slowly danced toward the kitchen counter, folded themselves, and then stopped, while a piece of string secured them tightly.

  “Yes, oh, you wound me so much. We're going off topic again. I'll bring my Mercy with us too. She never failed me.”

  “Did I ever?”

  “Well, I certainly can't swing you around anymore like I do with my studded club.” he winked at her.

  “Buggers” she answered, with a mocking tone.

  Other objects, like the weapons, the bandolier, and a bright pink purse, jumped on the counter and made themselves into a neat pile, waiting to be used.

  “Ok, the list is just missing some travel clothes, two pairs of good boots, your reading cards and…my manuscript.”

  Liliane groaned, loudly.

  “Oh no you won't. Not while traveling too. You do nothing else these days. Please.”

  “I have to finish it soon! My editor will have my hide if it's not ready in three moons!”

  “It's the fourteenth draft! You scrapped all the past ones!”

  “I have a good feeling about this one! This could be it!” the old man bellowed, grumpily.

  “Ok, ok, I'll leave this old coot his toy. But we won't bring more than one draft worth of paper, are we clear? I don't want a repeat of our honeymoon.”

  A pack of tightly bound paper hopped from the door to the top of the blankets.

  “You loved the folded paper drakes I made with all the discarded drafts, tho” he said, looking longingly at her, thinking back at a time long gone.

  “That I did.” she answered, glancing at a black and white dragon perched on the windowsill, which was cleaning itself like a cat.

  “Good.” Lazar clapped, and the march of the objects abruptly stopped. “I think that should be all.”

  “Yes. I think it should. Now, though, there is just one little thing missing… ”