Michellin

Wanderers

Kire nodded, walking beside Ysaryn. “The port city? Yes. ‘Cordon’, huh?” She stretched her arms as she walked. “I met him yesterday. I understand not wanting to be around that for long periods,” she said, gesturing vaguely behind them. “What are the people of Cordon like? Is it just elves they hate, or all outsiders? How big is the city? Do they have rulers, chiefs? Where do you go for supplies?” She stopped then, checking her rambling questioning before her mouth ran off away from her again. “Are your people expecting you back anytime soon? Rulitus and I could relay a message on your behalf, just so they don’t worry. Or that you don’t worry that they’d worry,” she added with a small smirk.

Wanderers

When Kire spotted the two elves, she was mildly amused at the fact that they were doing the same thing she had been earlier. Making a mental note to perhaps ask Ysaryn for sparring practice sometime, she watched them for a while until Bolym spotted her, with a face that said he wasn’t particularly happy about her presence. Ysaryn, though, was a different matter, and Kire grinned, clapping after she threw Bolym bodily to the ground. “Well-met. That was impressive,” she replied, smiling. “Does Bolym ever not frown, though?” Ysaryn reminded her of her more rambunctious friends back home. Had they met the elf, they would have invited her to join their crew by now. A woman who wasn’t afraid of getting a few bruises here and there was someone after her own heart, too.

“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, if you don’t mind. It’s about those supply runs Envy would ask you to do with Zekiel. I agreed to step in, and was wondering if I could bother you with questions about it, so I’d know where to go and what to do. Or not to do,” she added, hoping the subject wouldn’t sour Ysaryn’s mood too much. “If Ruli agrees, we’ll be your relievers.”

Wanderers

Kire knew not to say anything that bluntly to a man like Zeke. A lot of men disliked that back home, too, injured or not. Maybe best to avoid him altogether and ask Ysaryn instead about any questions she had regarding the city and how she sources their supplies. The Shadow Elf may find it distasteful, but hopefully with Kire volunteering herself for it the woman would accommodate her inquiries. Besides, I seem to be the only one she doesn’t mutter or snap angrily at. “You’re welcome, Envy. I’ll be sure to talk to her first thing tomorrow. Rest well.”

She went back outside, left alone now, and wandered back into the kitchen to have a peaceful meal. Kire ate her dinner slowly, sunk in thought. She hadn’t anticipated that her hunt to find Ikegai would lead to a whole different mission, as if rehabilitating a destroyed community was now a permanent part of her life. As if doing so for my own people had been so easy. “You can’t save everyone, Kire,” she murmured in between bites, both reminder and mantra to keep herself grounded. Because of course, she couldn’t help it. She would always try to, even if impossible. “Jan was right.” She shook her head, chuckling softly at her own foolishness. If she wasn’t going to die at the hands of Ikegai and Akuma, she might work herself to death shuttling between Amria and Little Ziad, trying to help build two cities from the ground up.

Though tired, Kire’s mind was still restless. She wandered outside the cave, taking in the night air and savoring the stillness around her. Tomorrow would be filled with more hard work, and Kire wanted to snatch these few moments’ worth of peace before going to bed and waking up to the new day’s challenges. From what she could see of it on top of the hill, the desert could be quite beautiful at night. She stood there, admiring the view for a while longer before going back inside to rest.

She wasn’t so lucky with her nightmares that night. Kire sat up with a grunt, her hand clamping over her scarred eye automatically, feeling the swipe of the blade that had almost cracked her skull open as if the wound was fresh. She breathed heavily, covering her face with her hands as she steadied her shaking body. You’re here. You’re safe. It took several minutes for her to fully calm down, and by then she was too awake to try going back to sleep, reluctant to go through another round of it. She took her sword and went outside. As she had guessed, the sun hadn’t yet risen, so she worked on sword drills and exercises, petulantly entertaining the thought of torturing Ikegai with sleeplessness for eternity until dawn. Afterwards she bathed quickly, the cold water and the chilly early morning invigorating her, before going back inside to look for Ysaryn.

Wanderers

Kire grimaced. She wished Daryll was here to explain better. “Dragons are—were like gods back home. Big as buildings, old as magic, with great leathery wings. In the stories we have of them, some are savage as beasts with nothing but bloodlust and their appetite on their minds, others cunning and wise. My family—we’re supposedly descended from them. Legends, tall tales, you know, until I was given the power. What it did was awaken the dragon-blood.” Akuma…was she…? “I don’t know if the portals were dragon magic. They’ve disappeared from Amria, or were hunted down to extinction, or both.” She paused. “I did find a dragon, once, when I had first gotten the power. Nearly bit me in two. Gave me huge scars on my back instead. But I fought it long enough to annoy it back to sleep before it could wreak destruction. It was enormous. I’ll tell you the tale another time.” She almost grinned then. Once, she would have told that story more grimly, a bittersweet memory that had given her painful reminders of her limits, and of the burden that had been put on her shoulders, the scars she was both proud and ashamed of. But there were things that she thought important and painful half a year ago that didn’t seem so now. Not when she’d lost and been humiliated so much.

As for his request, Kire sighed heavily and wondered what Rulitus thought of it. Did Envy already ask him? They weren't going at each other's throats, certainly, but they weren't exactly getting on too splendidly. “I can do it. Though I’m a stranger everywhere, I would need some instruction on that front, too. Don’t want to go offending a whole city out of ignorance.” Kire frowned; if it had only been herself she had to worry about, she’d have no compunctions with teaching the intolerant a lesson or two, but as someone sent on behalf of the refugees of Ziad, she knew she couldn’t disturb their arrangement. “When I’m able to do so, I’d gladly help. Rulitus and I are better suited for the task at least.”

Wanderers

Kire snorted at the idea of being found charming by Zeke. As they headed towards Envy’s chamber, Kire paced slowly beside him, watching to see if he’d need help. “Hah. You’re probably the first person to say that those qualities of mine are alluring,” she remarked, though she did find the assessment amusing, especially the thought of her belonging to his guard unit. Ed had always teased her that she wouldn’t survive having to answer to somebody else as a soldier.

Now that they could converse in private, Kire waited for the inevitable questions. “Amria is my world,” she replied, hands clasped behind her. “Yes, Ikegai is responsible for what happened six months ago. Not solely, but in concert with our enemies. And while my eyes were on the hunt for him, he had already been planning his escape here, with their help. Together they divided our attention.” She shook her head a bit. “Rulitus would have seen most of what I can do back in Ziad. I was given the power to traverse worlds and distances through portals, though this takes up much more energy than what Rulitus and Kartaians could do. I can use that energy for my way of travel, or I could use it to augment my strength and healing. Something to do with having dragon-blood, it seems. You don’t have dragons here, do you? Do you know what a dragon is?” she asked. “Have to remind myself there are differences between here and Amria.”

As she spoke, she fingered the Ring on her finger for a brief moment. As much as she appreciated their honesty and trust, letting them know about the Ring outright was still risky. “I was entrusted with this power. One of the many things about me Ikegai thinks he is entitled to.”

Wanderers

Kire listened in quiet awe to Envy’s story about how he had found shelter in Ziad and grew it into a tight-knit community of orphans living in an underground city. That was astounding to her; that would have taken a lot of time, labor, and love. Having met Envy, she now understood just how deep a well of kindness he had. And why Ruli seemed like a son to him. So is this Zeke. Kire frowned when Envy told her what it took for the former residents of Ziad to trust the presence of a Kartaian here; like Envy, she understood the reasoning behind it, but was nevertheless bothered. What if a refugee decided that Zeke’s word on the matter wasn’t enough, and tried to take out their anger and frustration at him?

As he went on to tell her more about Zeke and what he had suffered during the fall of Ziad, Kire’s mind went elsewhere. Ed… She imagined this Zeke in his prime as captain, and thought of how Ed had been like an older brother to her and the cousins, too, even as the burden of keeping the crown and the Capital safe fell on his shoulders just as much as hers. And now I’ve lost him, and Earnest, too. What she would give to have Ed and his brother with them, alive, even if they hated her to the very depths of their soul. “At least you still have him,” she murmured.

Envy’s question, however. How much to say? Kire felt it was only fair that she let them into her confidence after they had allowed her into their refuge. But it wasn’t just a matter of trust. Would they even be able to believe her? “I’m not from anywhere near here. Or anywhere far from here, for that matter.” She hummed in thought again. “I come from a place called Amria. You can’t get to it by any means of travel you might have. Not even that other means where you walk in shadows. I don’t know if you’ve realized, but I’ve never seen an elf, any elf, before coming to Ziad, much less knew they existed. There are no elves in Amria. At the moment, the only people who are able to do so are myself and Ikegai.”

She rubbed her nape. “I have family back home, yes. Me and my cousins. We were orphaned by a cataclysm. And then, six months ago I lost two more when our city was overrun by our enemies and we were driven out. My oldest cousin, he had been Captain, too. In another life, maybe he and Zekiel would have gotten along.” She smiled a little at the thought, though it faded quickly.

Wanderers

Kire listened to the two talk, about to ask about Ziad some more when something, or someone, had caught Ruli’s eye and made him look away like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. Kire raised a brow and turned to look just as a man with a scarred eye and black hair tossed something their way. “Hm.” His hostility made Rulitus seem warm and accommodating by comparison. While she didn’t frown at him, she didn’t balk at the hatred in his eyes, either. She said nothing when he spoke about her, then looked back to Ruli when this man practically wished death upon him. Hm. Might explain why he looks like shit. She noted that Ruli offered no argument, had none of the stubbornness she had been accustomed to seeing. More guilt. Kire was starting to get an inkling on why; Rulitus not coming with them in exile here didn’t warrant such a venomous response. There was something else. Why did he think he and Envy were not on the best of terms?

She hummed a little in thought at the Kartaian’s comment. “It’s been half a year. And he’s only shown up today. Forgiveness takes time for us mere mortals, Envy,” Kire replied, a small smirk on her face. She had been on both sides of that kind of anger, she knew. “The wounds are still fresh. I’d have thought I’d find more of this Zekiel’s anger when I arrived here with Akuma’s face, to be frank.” She looked around at the people having their meal as they returned to their dinner, shaking off the awkward silence. “If he’s that angry, I suppose that meant he cared deeply. Hopefully deeply enough that he’d forgive whatever it was that Rulitus did.” She almost asked then and there what it was he did and confirm her vague hunches.

Wanderers

Kire noted the portions on Envy’s plate, the other refugees’ better disposition towards her, and Ruli’s expectedly indifferent reception. She sat opposite the elf, crossing her legs. “You’re quite welcome. After my, uh, quest,,” she paused, her face wrinkling as she heard herself say it out loud, feeling a bit pretentious now, “we could talk about what else we could do to improve things around here. Assuming of course I come back alive at the end of it,” she added with a shrug, before digging into her satchel and taking out the pouch of candied fruit. “Figured I might bring back a treat for the children. Like that boy, Aeron was it? Or you could keep it if you have a sweet tooth.” She took a couple more pieces from the pouch, stuffed them both into her mouth before placing the rest next to where he sat.

She sucked on the sweets in her mouth before speaking again. “Consider it my payment for your help, and my meager attempt to make up for letting my quarry escape in the first place.” She frowned briefly at that, lips pursed, before returning her thoughts to the present. “Ale. Or wine. That’d be good to have around, too,” she added, before she looked around again. “Has Ysaryn come back?”

Wanderers

Kire ignored his jibe about making her drab, holding back some choice words for later. His mention of a princess piqued her interest, but she was more focused on the matter of the enchantment. “A ring would be fine. Any ring. Probably best for it to be something very ordinary.” She had only briefly considered volunteering the use of her Ring for the task, but she didn’t yet trust Rulitus enough to even know about the Ring’s importance, let alone handle it. When he fell silent she looked at him again and frowned, her cheeks coloring, noticing where his gaze was fixated. Before she could comment on it, however, he seemed to have realized it, himself, and looked away. Annoying little prick. Kire shook her head, watching him leave, Ysaryn’s words about his character on her mind.

She went off on her own, determined to keep busy rather than stew in her annoyance. Just like yesterday, she spent the rest of the day hunting, coming back that evening with a wild boar, looking much more disheveled than she did when she had arrived back that afternoon, but quite pleased with the outcome of the hunt. After skinning and butchering the boar, she went off to find somewhere to wash up, returning in time for dinner to look for Envy. Alongside the small supply of gold coin she had brought with her, she had been able to steal away a bag of candied fruit from Elva’s stash, along with a flask of strong liquor. Everything they drank that wasn’t water in the North was strong, anyway. If Envy liked it—do elves even drink?—she could find a way to bring more later. Liquor of any sort wasn’t in any of their stores, at least when Kire inspected it.

Wanderers

“Hello to you, too, ray of sunshine,” Kire replied, raising her eyebrow at him. Her gaze lingered for a moment at his ‘new’ injuries, shaking her head. “Already spreading cheer around, I see.” She sucked on the sweet in her mouth a little more before answering his question. “Like a local. Tanner skin. Darker hair. Worn. No scars, nothing that stands out.” Clearly, she had been thinking the matter over. “As drab as possible. Is that something you can manage?”

She straightened up and stretched, then rolled her shoulders. “If that’s going to take a while, you can leave the foraging to me for the nonce. Unless you wouldn’t mind me watching you work.” Which she suspected he very much did. “Where’s Envy? I only just got back, I have a few things for him,” she said, patting the satchel. “Few things to help tide them over if the hunting gets too hard.”