There's a very annoyed looking fairy flying between the trees, dressed in white - a very odd color, for a fairy - and with brown moth wings - extra odd, given that most fairies have butterfly or dragonfly wings. He seems to be looking for something.

Huh. You don't see fairies out this way very often, odd-looking or not. Maybe he's lost?

"S'cuse me, sir!" He calls, waving to try to draw his attention, "Do you need help finding something?" 

He glances up and flutters up to a perch a few tree branches away from Robin.

"Yeah. Anyone here turned sixteen recently?"

Weird question, but one he can answer! That's always nice. "Yeah actually. Me, two days ago. A girl in the village over thataway, too, but that was a couple weeks ago, so I don't know if it counts as 'recent'."

He shrugs and pulls a large goose feather out of thin air, throwing it unerringly at Robin.

"Ack!" He flails a bit, trying to grab it before it hits him, but it's too fast for him. It bounces off his chest - "ouch" - and then he catches it. "What-"

It turns into a white sword, still feather-light, with a feather-shaped blade and some rather extraneous feather motifs on the handle and blade itself.

"Congratulations. You're the Rightful Heir," the fairy says, deadpan.

He almost drops it, saving it at the last second with a quick lunge that sets the branch shaking.

"I'm what!?" He asks, once he's stable again. "The Rightful- I'm the Missing Heir? But-" He stops, aware that protesting that he's just a common boy isn't going to mean much, given all the Goose rulers were raised among regular folk. He stares down at the sword, mind going a mile a minute, until he comes to- 

"Oh honk, I have to defeat the Evil Vizier." 

"I have to help you," he says, not sounding particularly thrilled.

Wow, no need to sound so enthusiastic. 

"Are you my fairy godmother, then?"

"She broke her hip. I'm the understudy."

Blink. "Fairy godmothers have understudies?" 

"Yeah."

"Huh." 

There are more important matters, Robin! He reminds himself.

"I'm the Rightful Heir. Okay. So, Evil Vizier, hooow... do we do this. Also," he realizes, "I should tell Granny what's happened- did she know this whole time-" he falls backwards dramatically until he's hanging upside down from the branch again, one hand on his head and the other flung out, sword dangling almost far enough to touch the ground.

"You might want to turn that back into a feather. And I have no idea what your grandmother knows."

He lifts the sword up to stare at it. It's very pretty. "Um. How?" 

"I have no idea, it's goose-made. Intend to write a sonnet with it?"

Writing sonnets: not really a common activity for him! He'll give anything a try, though. He attempts to broadcast 'intent to sonnet' at the sword, considering what he'd even write one about. Heron, maybe, her strong hands on the pestle roughly grinding- he shakes his head, looking down at the sword.

Sword: en-pens.

"Great."

"Right, lovely, excellent." He reaches up to grab hold of the branch with his other hand, and then swings himself off and drops to the ground. 

"I've got a lot of questions," he informs the fairy - he should stop calling him 'the fairy' - "Starting with: what's your name? I'm Robin. Of Gooses, apparently."

"Alyssum." He flutters down to hover near Robin. It's a bit clearer here exactly how small he is - smaller than Robin's head, though he's not really staying still enough for measurements.

He squints. Are fairies always that small? He hasn't seen many, and none up close. Did he fly all the way from the capital? At this size? 

"How far did you fly? Want some plumab?" He raises his hand, realizes he must have dropped the one he'd been peeling at some point, and then points to the basket instead. 

(The basket: is also no longer there. Instead there is a pile of fruit, sans basket. He blinks at it. Oh well, doesn't change the offer.)

"I used a fairy route, so not far. And sure." He gestures, levitating a plumob over to himself and cutting off a chunk.

"Right, that's good. Okay, actual questions." 

Suddenly, his mind is a blank page.

He lowers himself down to sit against the tree to buy time, grabbing another fruit for himself. 

"...Okay, the Vizier. Do you know anything about how I'm supposed to defeat her? Also, do you know what the honk the last king..." 

He has to stop to stare into the distance for a long moment.

"...What my father did that got him assassinated?" 

"Don't kill her, she's useful and everyone will be annoyed at you. Usually she steps down after the Rightful Heir passes enough challenges to keep the magic satisfied. And for what Caracara did - that hasn't actually been leaked, which is... unusual, and Fox reportedly didn't send in her two week's notice first. He probably made her mad or was an urgent threat to the kingdom. Or both."

"Well that's ominous."

Head shake.

"Didn't even realize killing her was an option, isn't she hundreds of years old or something? Anyway, yeah, I wasn't planning on it. Where do the challenges come from? Does she make them herself, or does the kingdom provide?" 

"Well, trying is an option. And the challenges vary - some originate from her but some are just... The magic," handwave, "Magicking. Also if word gets out about an Heir being on their Quest people think it's funny to help provide challenges."

"Huh, yeah, of course they would." Contemplative plumab nom. "I'd say 'this explains all those weird tests Gran had for me over the years' but I think she might just be Like That." Head shake, "I should... go see her, and then..." He stands, brushing off his pants and ruffling his wings to get the dirt off, "Coming?" 

"Sure."

Grandma's houseward they go, then, through the orchard and then into the woods.

He's not following a path, exactly, so much as a general direction, trusting in the woods to get him where he's going. He's pretty sure he's been this particular way before, though - yeah, that huberry bush looks like one he passed a couple days ago. He pauses to pull some huberries off of it as they pass, absently offering some to Alyssum.

He samples one but is mostly full on plumob so doesn't bother pulling any along with him.

Also, there's a rustling in that bush over there.

Robin's eyes snap to it immediately. Rustling bush! What could it be? He investigates. 

It appears to be...

A gosling!

She blinks her large eyes at him, then looks at Alyssum. "Why do you have a fairy?"

Unexpected!

"He's my fairy godmother's understudy," he explains automatically. "Are you lost?" He adds, looking around. They've gotta be a ways away from the nearest village. 

"Why do you have a fairy godmother? I don't have a fairy godmother." Pause, then: "Are you an Heir?"

"Uh, yeah, apparently." He lifts the feather quill and waves it a bit.

She pulls a knife - more a sword in her hands - out of the bush. She pauses, then, grinning - "Only good fighters get to be Heirs!" And, with a giggle: "En garde!" as she lashes forward.

"Ack!" He backpeddles a bit, lifting the quill in an attempt to parry her attack. 

Quill: en-swords!

Her knife meets his sword with a loud ring.

Saving him from injury, Great! 

...He does not actually want to fight a small child with live steel! He stays on the defensive, looking around for anything he could use to disarm or at least distract her without either of them getting hurt.

She seems to be a very amateur hobbyist, and there's several points he could with increasing surety just grab her. His greater reach helps, there.

Yeah, okay, he'll try that, going for the knife in particular. He also flips the Goosefeather Blade into a reverse grip while he's at it, gently pushing her away with that hand once the sharp bits are no longer pointed at her. 

He can get the blade away from her! She unbalances and stumbles backwards. "Alas! You have vanquished me, the mighty Whip-poor-will! ...Can I have my knife back."

He peers at it, then at her, "Have you got a sheath for it? It's pretty dangerous to be carrying it around bare." 

"I got a cloth."

"Nice tough one? Alright, here you go," he passes it back to her. "Do the woods like you enough to get you where you're going from here without directions?" 

"Yeah!" she chirps. "Hopefully they like you, too, I hear the Quest gets exciting."

"Yeah, I've heard that too. Well, they've never let me down before," shrug, "Whip-poor-will, was it?" He grins, "Thanks for the challenge, I'll make sure they know you were the first one." 

She makes a happy noise. "You're welcome! When you're King I'm gonna be a knight!"

Chuckle, "I guess I'll see you then," he agrees. "I'll tell the knight-captain to keep an eye out." 

"You better!" she says, then skips off.

He waves. 

He glances at the sword at waves it a bit, too. En-quill-ening? Upon the hearthstone in her patient's home- 

It en-quills!

Hooray!

"So that happened," he says to Alyssum. "One challenge down!" Fist-pump.

"Sure. A challenge."

"Hey, it counts! She was pretty serious about it, even if it wasn't really all that challenging." 

"Hopefully you won't run into a baby dragon next."

He starts walking again, backwards, pointing accusingly at Alyssum as he does so, "Are you mocking me? I'll have you know that baby dragons are absolute menaces. Those big glowy eyes and scaly snoots are not to be messed with! Second only to goslings, I'd say, in evil disguised by cuteness." 

"With your feathers, I'm sure you light up like kindling."

He shifts his wings a bit nervously.

"...They won't actually make me fight a dragon, right? I can just... talk or trick my way out of it, right?" 

"Sure. Though you might want to start with a baby bunny. For practice."

"Hey! I'm tricksy and... charismatic and stuff!"

"I'm sure plenty of people think you're charming."

"How do you make that sound like an insult?" He wonders, squinting at him. 

"Talent."

...He makes a face at him, and then turns to face forward with a dramatic huff. 

Onwards, through the woods to grandma's house!

Nothing else accosts them on the way.

Robin and his grandmother live in a quaint little cottage next to a babbling brook in the middle of the woods. The lady in question is sipping tea in a swinging chair outside, a tray of biscuits settled on the seat next to her.

Her sharp eyes catch Alyssum immediately when they come into view, "Ah, there you are," she exclaims, standing from the swing. "-Ah, actually, you're not quite who I was expecting," she amends. 

"I'm the understudy. Thistle broke her hip."

"Oh, the poor dear. Did she run afowl of some goslings up to mischief again?"

"Probably."

   "A hazard of the godmothering business, I suppose. Well! I'm sure you'll do just fine in her place. Robin," she addresses her grandson, "The chest in the library contains some things you may find useful for your journey, why don't you go get it before you leave."

"Grandma, is that really all you're going to say!?" 

   "Well, I knew this day would come, you know. I've been preparing you for it, but I think you've learned as much as I can teach you here at home. It's time for you to go out into the wide world. Past time, even! By two days!" 

Shrug. "Location system sometimes gets bugs."

  "Understandable, you only do this once a generation, after all," she muses. "Ah well, at least you're here now. Go on Robin," she adds, shooing him.

He shoos. 

He returns shortly, "An umbrella, Grandma??" He waves the goose-handled object in outrage. 

  "To keep off the elements, my dear! I'm sure it will see much use." 

"The handle bears a striking resemblance to you," Alyssum says, deadpan.

He lifts it up to look the handle in the eye.

"...I don't see it." 

  "You found the camping gear as well, I hope?" Grandma interrupts.

"Oh, yeah." He troops back into the house to collect that. 

  "There's a little space at the top of the tent, just sized for a fairy," she adds to Alyssum while he's gone. "I suspected Thistle might like some privacy."

"Thanks."

Soon enough, Robin comes trooping back out of the cottage, a large bag secured around his lower back, out of the way of his wings. 

  "Ready?" Grandma asks. She rises from her seat and steps over to hug him and kiss him on the forehead, "Go on, then. Be good. Wreak havoc." 

"Yes Grandma," he replies dutifully, hugging her tightly for another long moment. Then he lets go and turns to Alyssum. 

"To the capital? Or is the Vizier somewhere else?" 

"She's at the capital."

"That way's as good as any, then," he supposes. He's sure they'll get sidetracked a bunch along the way, anyway. 

Onwards! To adventure!

Their first major obstacle - not counting Robin's village learning he's the heir and messing with him - is a bridge across a river ravine. It is, in fact, the only bridge within several days of walking across this particular ravine. There's a fox sitting in the middle of the path right before it.

"Halt, travelers!" she calls, bouncing up.

Getting messed with is a little frustrating but they all mean it in good fun, so he doesn't really mind. Once the festivities are done with (mostly, there would be a few more tricks and challenges after they left), he waves goodbye as they set off down the road.

He's a little surprised to see a fox standing in their way! A little bit wary, too, because... goose, fox, you get the picture. He halts as requested, though, offering her a friendly smile despite the wariness, "Hello! Do you need something?" 

"Yes! I am the Sphinx of this region. None may cross my bridge without answering my riddles! - Please answer my riddles, I am so bored."

...Oh she's cute actually. His smile becomes more genuine.

"Sure, I can do that! Sounds like a good Challenge." The capital letter can be clearly heard. 

"Ooo, are you after Challenges?"

"Yeah! I have to complete a bunch so the kingdom will recognize me as the Rightful King and the Evil Vizier will step down. Oh, uh," he bows a bit clumsily, "Prince Robin of Gooses, and this is Alyssum," he motions to him, "He's my fairy godmother's understudy." 

"Oh, exciting! If you're the Heir, then you must be very good at riddles!" Her face scrunches up. "Or, well, you might be terrible at them, but it wouldn't do at all to have a Rightful King who is bad at riddles."

"That's true," he admits thoughtfully. "Well... If I am bad at it, I'd better start practicing to get better, right?"

"Yeah! I'm good at riddles, so I can help!"

"That's great!" He settles down next to her on the side of the road, "What's your favourite one?" 

"Hmmmm..."

"While on my way to New Vitten, I met a cat with seven kittens. Each kitten had seven mittens, and each mitten had seven mice, and each mouse had seven pups. Pups, mice, mittens, kittens - how many were going to New Vitten?"

"Hmmm... You, plus one cat, plus seven kittens is nine... uh. Seven mittens for each kitten is..." He counts multiples of seven on his hands, "Forty-nine, so fifty eight... plus seven mice for each mitten- feathers, I need paper for this," he scowls, brow furrowing. He hadn't known there'd be math involved in this Quest. Wasn't this supposed to be a riddle?

...Wait. He goes back over the riddle in his head.

"Hang on! You never said they were going to New Vitten! Just you! Only one was going to New Vitten!" 

She laughs. "Exactly! That was the answer!"

He laughs, too, "That's so tricky! You have more, right? That one almost got me - I definitely need more practice." Besides, that was fun!

"Hmmm..."

"Little Tommy Tittle-Tat tied two tups to two tall trees. To torment the terrible Tittle-Tat, how many 't's are in all of that?"

He blinks hard for a couple seconds, "Your enunciation is impressive," he comments, before squinting at the air while he thinks.

"...This is another trick, isn't it? 'How many 't's are in 'all of that' - there's two 't's in 'that'!" He grins. 

"My enunciation is impressive, and your guess is correct!"

"Yes!" He fist-pumps, "How many riddles do you know, anyway?"

"Hmmmm..." She seems to be doing math. "...Lots."

He hmmms. "I do have to get to the capitol at some point. How many do you want me to answer before you'll let me cross your bridge?" He thinks three is the traditional amount, but they hadn't set any terms or anything, maybe she wants to do more. 

"I think one more, unless you want to do more than that. And then maybe I can come with you!"

"You should! I guess I'm better at riddles than I thought, but I still want to hear more of them, this is fun!" And that way she won't be stuck here being bored anymore.

"So long as you don't mind, Alyssum?" He adds, looking around for him - he hadn't really been paying attention and kind of lost track.

"Sure, whatever."

"He's been like this about everything so far," he tells the Sphinx, "-is 'the Sphinx' your name?"

"Yes! Kind of? It's my title, really...? But I don't have a name like geese do."

"...Do you want a name?" 

"Maybe! They seem interesting."

"Okay... What kind of name would you like? Geese usually name ourselves after birds - I'm Robin, my grandmother is Kea, there's Heron and Tern and everyone knows a Raven and a Magpie or two..."

"Hm... Dunno I'm very a bird... What're other names like?"

"Huh... I don't know much about other peoples' names," he glances at Alyssum, "What do fairies do?" 

"Flowers, mostly. Or other plants."

"Oh, plants, that's a nice theme! I can come up with some examples of those! Uh... camellia, clover, bluebell, snowdrop, thistle, thyme, anthurium, laurel... trees too, I can do lots of trees, hazels and alders and willows and hollies-" He's maybe bouncing a little bit. 

"Anthurium sounds less wrong than the others, but I'm not sure I'm a flower person... Though a tree might actually be nice. Maybe an orange one? Or an orange flower."

"Huh... I can't think of any orange trees off the top of my head - besides actual orange trees, anyway. Lots of trees turn orange in autumn? There's a lot of flowers that come in orange, though! Begonias and marigolds, zinnias and dianthuses, dahlias and cosmos, lilies - there's orange roses, too." 

"Hm... Marigold is pretty but I don't think is me... I like Dianthus, and Dahlia, and Cosmos."

"I think I also like the word 'Autumn' though. Is that a name?"

"Anything can be a name if you pick it. Autumn is a nice word. Should we call you that from now on?"

"Yeah! I'd like that."

"Autumn, then! Nice to meet you," he'd shake her hand but she doesn't have any. Anyway, "You were going to ask me one more riddle, right?" 

"Sure!" She hums, thinking. "I appear once in summer, twice in autumn, but never in winter or spring. What am I?"

His mind having been expecting it this time, he catches the trick - or at least a trick - right away, "Hah, you can't get me like that when I'm expecting it! You're - u. You, you're you," he giggles, and shakes his head, "Summer has one 'u', autumn has two 'u's, and winter and spring have none. Right?"

"Exactly!" She grins. "You got all my riddles!"

"Not all of them! You said you know lots, right? You have to come along, that was so fun! Maybe I'll even think of a few for you to figure out, if you ask me more." 

"Oh, that sounds delightful!"

He grins, "Great to have you aboard!"

He stands, looking around, "Any other Challengers here?" He calls. This isn't the best strategy in the world, since lots of people would rather surprise him, but it doesn't hurt to ask, since they're in a nice clear space for it, ravine and bridge notwithstanding. 

There don't seem to be any!

Well, that's that. He smiles down at Autumn, "We can use your bridge now, then? Anything you need to pack before we go?"

"Just a few things. And, yeah, you can!"