Chapter 48

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"Fuck off," Herymi grumbled, not even bothering with a pretext of being nice as his friends tried to drag him out of the nest. Ran'mosy was more than content to stay in the nest with him but the others seemed determined to get him up and working. "I'm a guest at the moment, not a handyman," he moaned.

"This is your home, you are not a guest" O'chetur grinned warmly, kissing Herymi's cheek as the human finally sat up with a dark glower. "And there is work to be done!" Work didn't stop in Tayagwe just because of a little rain.

"I don't live here anymore," Herymi pointed out darkly but climbed out of bed, Ran'mosy and Cha'em smirking at him as they cuddled together comfortably. Ran'mosy was a tailor and Cha'em only worked during the harvest, the rest of the year he took care of the nest and the various chores needed to look after four men.

"Still your home," a familiar voice commented from the living room, followed by a clunking sound as the door shut. "Are you up yet boy?" Flex called, moving to the entrance of the nest room. Accepting a mug of tea from Adar'y, who was also up and dressed ready to go help in the village.

Herymi grumbled as he pulled his top on, currently dry from having been next to the fire all night. "I'm up," he scowled before moving over to kiss Flex on the cheek. Flex hugging him and slapping him up the head.

"I taught you better than not to help out in the community," Flex scolded with an amused sparkle in his eyes as he looked over Herymi's bare skin. "Just how many tattoos did you get?" he asked, taking a deep gulp of tea. Herymi had worn long sleeves at the dinner so Flex hadn't noticed his youngling was inked up now.

"Plenty," O'chetur grumbled, not minding too much but at the same time wishing Herymi hadn't gotten a couple.

"I like them," Cha'em chuckled, having spent the night beforehand searching over Herymi's body for ink and tracing out the patterns. There were a few places Herymi hadn't let him look but Cha'em knew where most of them were now. "You did get a lot though."

"Eh," Herymi shrugged, pulling on some trousers and some outer clothes, having known none of them would be particularly happy with him about them. The k'nairi didn't typically get tattooed. "I was stationed with a man who had been a tattooist before the war. Everyone got some. Then anyone who deals with the assassination guild must get certain marks. As a bodyguard, I was required to get a couple as well," he commented, tying up his cloak.

Flex hummed unhappily but said nothing, instead moving over to retie the cloak in the correct method, passing the empty cup to O'chetur. "Just how much did you have to do with the assassination guild?" Flex asked, O'chetur echoing the question.

"I'm not an assassin or spy now. They just made us do some work during the bodyguard training to teach us what the most common methods of assassination are," Herymi reassured, letting his guardian sort his cloak out. "And ways to combat against them. Also, made us drink poison to develop an immunity to it. It was an extremely unpleasant experience and I don't envy anyone in that field of work."

Ran'mosy snorted. "I'm sure," was the general response of the room. K'nairi didn't really think that assassination was a good way to kill an enemy. They were fine with people having the skill to take someone out subtly but an enemy was meant to be faced head on.

"Come on," Flex smiled warmly at his son and his son's friends. "You three are needed helping at the De'liant's farm. Some of the trees on the bank are threatening to collapse and we need to move the livestock to a different pasture. It's too dangerous at the moment to cut the trees down. Also, the flood defences need some work, the drain channels are already filling up."

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The next morning, everyone woke up early but the storm was still raging outside, making people reluctant to move fast. Aw'endo had wriggled himself in between Dyn'ad and Eyeri when he and Tai'ray had returned from dancing. Smelling damp and with cold limbs, Eyeri had grumbled in sleepy protest as his brother had curled up in only his loin cloth next to him. Dyn'ad had just kissed Tai'ray before letting the man bury himself in Dyn'ad wings.

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