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"No, we're just very unlucky. You'll be fine."

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"Ah. Um, sorry. For some reason I kind of expected it to be an 'everyone is tiny' thing. I mention I'm concussed?"

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"You did say that."

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Arlen peers at Nior as best he can with his vaguely unfocused eyes. "What are your blessings? You're not wearing them, unless that... weird squiggly one is... what is that. What the hell kind of blessing is that?"

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"This is Elannwy. We have different elemental blessings here. Most countries don't have them at all. This," he taps the silver pin on his sleeve, "is complexity. My brother and I have it in common. He's charm/inspiration/complexity; I'm understanding/focus/complexity."

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"Gross. That's weird. I'm joy and beauty and strength. Normal blessings. I like them. The hell is complexity, anyway."

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"No worse than 'synthesis'. I'm power, clarity, and loyalty. Don't be a dick, Ari, we're the weird foreigners here."

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"Are not."

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"My mother is Welchin, as I mentioned. Her blessings are flexibility, resilience, and travel; is that normal enough for you?"

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"Yes. Yes, it is. Very coru, is she coru? My ma was coru. Though she might not be the best example of the breed."

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"Incredibly coru. And Father's incredibly hunti. They make quite a pair."

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"My... first dad, was hunti. The more recent model was elay, but he had a really strong crown of sweela."

He shivers, slightly.

"Very strong."
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Arlen wobbles over and hugs him, trying very hard not to look exasperated with his friend's inability to instantly recover from six years of severe trauma.

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"Mm. Sorry," says Nior. "My brother's crowned sweela too, but he's coru underneath. Oceans of it. We take after Mother that way."

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"Coru's a good element. You guys seem nice."

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"...Thank you," he says.

And then the house comes into view. It's a very pretty house, built partly into the side of the hill that stands between it and the ocean. The path that winds around the hill leads straight to the back porch. All the shutters are open, and lace curtains drift back and forth at the prompting of a slight breeze.
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"What a nice house," says Arlen, yawning. "Does it have beds."

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"Probably, yes. Beds that we are not going to sleep in, because we might die."

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A boy who looks remarkably like Nior sticks his head out of an upper-floor window and peers down at them.

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Nior waves.

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The boy in the window yells down a question in some language that sounds plausibly related to Welchin but not related enough to be understandable.

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"Concussed adventurers!" replies Nior cheerfully.

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"Concussed adventurers from Welce?"

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"We had a boat!" Harin explains. "Your beach murdered it!"

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"I'll have my revenge!"

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