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Nicholae seemed amused now. “You’re a modest fellow, aren’t you?”

What the heck? Again, Hector didn’t know what to say. This seemed to happen to him a lot, he was realizing. Maybe he should figure out some way of dealing with it in the future.

“That’s alright,” said Nicholae. “No need to say anything. I feel like I already know all I need to about you.”

“...You’re a very strange man,” said Hector.

“People keep telling me that. Apologies if I said something to make you uncomfortable. I do that a lot, apparently. But it’s usually almost always unintentional. Most of the time.”

“Uh... huh...”

‘Ask about the political situation in Azirat,’ said Garovel, again privately.

“Er. Um. How are things here in Azirat politically?”

“Oh, now there’s a heavy question. How much time have you got?”

“Heh. Not that much, I’m afraid.”

“Not planning on sticking around for a while, huh? That’s a shame. I would’ve treated you to the finest Azirati cuisine you’ve ever tasted.”

“That does sound tempting,” said Hector. “I’ll have to take a rain check.”

“Perhaps the political conversation should wait until then, too. I’d talk your ear off about that subject if you let me. Better to do it over a hearty meal. How about we exchange contact info?” And he whipped out his phone from within his black jacket.

Hector clicked his tongue. “Ah... I’d love to, but mine broke recently, and I haven’t gotten around to replacing it yet.”

“Aha. I see. Not to worry, then.” With a flourish of his left hand, a metallic card materialized into it, and he offered it to Hector.

Blinking, Hector took it and inspect it more closely. It had a distinctive blue sheen, but a string of embossed numbers was clearly visible on it. As were the words ‘Nicholae R. Medan, Attorney at Law.’

Wow.

Hector felt like he should steal that trick for himself, though he wasn’t sure what he would put on it.

From there, the conversation didn’t last much longer. Hector made an equivalent invitation to come visit Warrenhold in Atreya, and then he was off, wanting to complete this final patrol and head home. He was running on fumes, having once again gone several days without rest, and he was very much looking forward to that giant bed of his in the Tower of Night.

He wanted to venture back down to Vaeland again to check on things there, but he couldn’t really justify it to himself. As much as he’d played down the distances between these countries to Nicholae, Hector was still aware of how much of a commitment these flights were. His speed had definitely improved over the past few days, but he still wasn’t that fast. Not like Abbas in that crazy armor of his.

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“Atreya is quite some way from here, is it not?” said Nicholae. “I would have thought you would be too busy taking care of matters there in order to venture such a distance.”

“It’s not that far,” said Hector, thinking of the other day when he’d flown all the way down to Vaeland. “Just on the other side of the Gulf. And besides, Atreya has hardly been affected by the waves at all. We’ve been fortunate.”

“That so? Huh.” The man scratched his temple and smiled sheepishly. “I suppose my poor grasp of geography is showing. I should confess: I’m not actually sure which of those countries out east is Atreya. They all kind of blend together for me.”

“...It’s out west, actually,” said Hector.

A beat passed. “...Oh. I, um. I also get east and west confused, apparently.”

Hector returned a faint chuckle. “You’re not lost right now, are you?”

“Now that you mention it...” He shook his head and laughed, too. “I’m just kidding. But thank you for your concern.”

‘Ask about the situation in Azirat,’ said Garovel privately.

“How are things here in Azirat?” said Hector. It didn’t escape Hector’s notice that the reaper could’ve simply asked the man himself and yet chose not to.

“Regarding the aftermath? A bit chaotic but still smooth, I’d say. Hard to complain when we know how much worse off certain other places must have it. Even just here in the Gulf. I’m sure Vaeland has had a rough go of it.”

Hector bobbed his head to the side a little. “Actually, from what I’ve seen, Vaeland is doing alright.”

Nicholae blinked. “Really? Even with all those islands?”

“I was surprised, too,” said Hector. “But it seems like they’ve got some real strong servants over there to protect them. I saw walls that were literally like mountains.”

“Wow. If it was enough to impress you, then it must’ve really been something.”

Hector balked, unsure how to respond.

Nicholae looked abruptly confused. “...You do realize how amazing what you did here was, right? That floodwall you repaired four days ago ended up saving hundreds of lives.”

...Had it really been that many? Hector tried to think back, but the last few days were kind of a blur. And honestly, Azirat wasn’t that intense in his memory. It was Mara and Boland that had gotten truly crazy, he felt.

“I’d been patching holes in it for hours when you suddenly showed up and slammed down an entire new coating for it like it was nothing.”

...Huh.

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If it was this bad all the way out here, then the Rainlords must’ve been dealing with some truly horrific sights. Perhaps it was better that they were not here. He knew there would be many people in that region who needed their help.

Thankfully, Hector did manage to find plenty of survivors, too, which was always a relieving sight. And oddly enough, they were usually in pretty good physical condition. Not many injuries to speak of.

Garovel seemed to think it was due to how extreme the danger was here. ‘There’s no getting “grazed” by surging floodwaters,’ the reaper said. ‘You either avoid them or you die.’

Hector didn’t much care for how callous that line of thinking felt, but he also found it difficult to argue against.

However, the thing that Hector found the most surprising over these days of mayhem was that he, Roman Fullister, and Ravi Zaman were not the only servants out here. Which was rather heartening to know.

There wasn’t time to exchange greetings or make introductions, but a nod of acknowledgment or a wave of gratitude after a particularly gnarly mess had been taken care of was enough for Hector to feel like he was getting to know these strangers pretty well, even if he never learned any of their names. It also helped that he saw them multiple times each over the several days of madness.

And eventually, when the waves began to die down and everything started to settle, Hector could recognize the other servants by their faces alone.

It was while he was out on one final patrol of the Gulf when he started to meet some of them properly.

“I was hoping to see you again,” said a tall man with chiseled features and long, strawberry blond hair. He reached out for a handshake as Hector touched down gently in front of him, atop a hill overlooking a flooded valley along the coast of Azirat.

If there was one good thing in all this, perhaps it was that Hector had gotten in plenty of extra practice with his flying. Making such a soft, controlled landing was a pretty nice feeling, for a change.

Still fully armored, Hector took the handshake. “Same here,” he said. “I’m Hector Goffe of Atreya. And you?”

“I am Nicholae Medan. Of Azirat, I suppose. Thank you for all your help over these past few days.” The man didn’t have even a whiff of a Valgan accent, which Hector found a little surprising.