Michellin

Wanderers

Kire couldn’t help but grin when Ruli admitted to missing coffee. She sipped hers slowly, not wanting to be done with it too quickly. While they were still able to have a steady supply of coffee back home, wherever home was for the particular time period, they’d had to ration it. That meant there would be several mornings of watered-down coffee, to help stretch their stores. The continent had been unstable after the throne was usurped, and that meant there were certain luxuries that became harder to obtain, especially when they’d needed to be more mobile.

“Which one of you smokes?” she asked as they strolled towards the vendor. “My cousin, she’s a healer, and she would smoke like a chimney. She’d even use some herbs for it, too. It’s—interesting,” she said with a smirk. “Food, maybe. And we could ask around about botanists while we’re at it.” She drained her own mug. “There’s one place we passed that was grilling fish and squid, we could—”

Kire dropped her mug. She turned, drawing her sword halfway out the scabbard, her eyes wide in alarm. What was that? The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she looked at the crowd, down the busy streets. She knew that feeling. Like Ikegai’s magic, but different. Gemini. It was only a second, a whiff of iron in the air, but it was gone. Kire’s hand never left her sword-hilt, even when she realized she couldn’t catch the feeling anymore and instead noticed the people looking warily in her direction.

Wanderers

Kire listened to him explain shadow-walking and nodded along. It made sense. It was probably also why she could open portals up in mid-air, while they could not. Focus and strength. The two methods had their own brand of difficulty. “What would happen if you let go of someone mid-way? Gods.” Kire grimaced at the thought, though she was also morbidly curious. She had wondered that about her own portals, herself, and was thankful she hadn’t yet found out the answer from first-hand experience.

She glanced at him again, specifically his hands stuck in his pockets. “Hm.” She looked away, her gaze scanning the busy streets, looking for something, making a mental note to pass by this way again later when they return the wagon. “If you find yourself here with spare time, I do suggest you go on sunset. You might like the view,” she said, gesturing at the direction of the ocean behind them. “I know I would. While stuffing my face with festival food.”

The jovial sounds and heady smells from the festival preparations were muted once they had reached the other side of the wall later. Kire took a few deep breaths, stretched her arms and rolled her shoulders, then proceeded to unload the wagon. “Three trips,” she said, thinking out loud, “at least for my way. After that, I may have to rely on your shadow-walking, but we’ll see. I’m also a little afraid of what happens to these in transit, so first trip’s to test it out.” She was balancing several planks on one shoulder, holding on tight with both arms. After taking a few more deep breaths, Kire disappeared in a blue flash.

She reappeared several minutes later. “Probably should have picked a more spacious place to pop back into,” she muttered, taking on the next batch and not wanting to explain her rather clumsy re-entry. More prepared for what to expect this time, she was able to transport the other two batches she had earlier calculated. By her third return to the wagon, she was feeling lightheaded but otherwise still able to move. “Can we drive the wagon back down that same street? There’s something I wanted to look at.”

There it is. The aroma was unmistakable. Kire practically hopped off the wagon in front of a coffeehouse. “Two mugs, please,” she said to the lady who greeted her, “and if you have it, sugar and cream for the second one. Give the first to my companion over here.” She flashed the coin. “If you’re selling the beans, or could point me in the direction of your merchant, that would be splendid.”

Wanderers

“Hmm .” Kire thought it over as they drove the wagon back through the city. “I think we need to take these back first, yes. I don’t like the idea of leaving behind what we bought.” At his other question, Kire paused thoughtfully, a part of her wishing she could recall all of Daryll’s rambling theories. “Hm. Yes. It takes so much. Traveling between worlds takes a huge amount of energy, especially. And it’s not like that shadow-walking thing you can do, where you’re whole and moving through it. Every time I open a portal, it unmakes and remakes me. It’s like walking through a tornado.” She frowned, both at recalling the sensation of her portals and at her attempt at explaining it.

“The power that I have draws energy from the latent potential in my dragon-blood, the same place that gives me that superhuman strength. And when I get severely injured, it helps speed things up, or keep me alive. If I use up my power for one of these things, it limits my use of the others and taxes me. So, hopefully, we don’t get into any brawls while we’re here, hm?” she added with a smirk, glancing at him. She paused again. “You said you’ve never been outside the desert. Aren’t you freezing?”

Wanderers

Kire smirked at the foreman, entertained at the sight of fear and greed fighting over his expression. Once it was clear that the foreman had finally taken stock of the situation and figured out what was in his best interest, Kire smiled sweetly and sheathed her sword. “Thank you for your kindness,” she replied. The man, grumbling under his breath, beckoned them to follow him into the warehouse, indicating with gestures to his men inside to direct them to their supplies. Kire smiled in earnest this time and set to work, inspecting the lumber with Ruli, asking questions of the foreman’s laborers, letting Ruli look things over and make decisions. He knew the people of Ziad, he would better know what Envy and their refugees would need.

She was about to ask them what was in the other section of the warehouse, having peeked inside and seen more wood and furniture when the foreman’s voice boomed at them. “Hey now. Don’t you be takin’ all the good ones!” the foreman huffed. “I said only the ones in here, not those. Those over there, they’re not to be touched.”
“And why not?” Kire asked, hands on her hips. “Not even for—”
“None a’your hagglin’. We’re selling the best of the lumber to the men of Lord Itallo.”
“Who?”
The man looked like he wanted to tear out his beard. “Bleedin’ tourists. The head of the Council!”
“Alright, alright, fear not, my good man, we won’t take all your lumber,” Kire said, rolling her eyes. “But we might be open to giving you a bit more coin, after all. Do you have a wagon we could borrow?” Kire flashed him one of her sweeter smiles, though it took a bit more convincing and negotiating for him to finally agree. “Well. Not bad!” Kire said, feeling rather chipper as she watched the foreman bark at his men to load up the borrowed wagon. There was less grumbling, now that the gold was in his hands. “What’s next?”

By the time the wagon was out of their sight, the foreman had inspected and counted the coin thrice already. The tourists have gotten crazier and crazier every year, but at least they had the coin. “Oy, ‘e’s here! Lord Itallo’s man!”
“About bloody time,” the foreman muttered, though his gold-sweetened grin was still on his face. “Show him up.”
A young, well-dressed man, accompanied by guards of the Council, walked towards the warehouse. His dark brown hair was slicked back neatly, his collar high and stiff, giving him a rather severe look for someone who appeared to be just in his twenties. “Lord Itallo is grateful for your service,” he said, smiling. “You have the goods?”
The foreman flashed him the biggest smile his cheeks could muster and bowed a little; if he had any qualms about giving obeisance to someone half his age, he didn’t show it. “Anything for the good lord and his trusted men—err—”
“Gavin. Just Gavin,” the young man replied, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Wanderers

Kire’s face cringed for a moment. “Yes, I’ve been on boats, small and big. By now I’ve been in them often enough that I should be less seasick, but—eh. My sea legs are still shaky.” She watched the curiosity and enthusiasm in his eyes fade at the mention of Ziad, and despite whatever annoyance she felt towards him, the moment was disheartening to see. "Fresh fish is quite good," she commented, hoping to at least momentarily distract him from the memory of the ruins, "but it depends on the quality. There are places that eat fish raw, seasoned with just vinegar or pickled ginger. I've never tried, though."

She watched his hesitating pace over the walkway, making sure he wasn’t going to trip. She smirked at his question, turning her attention to the warehouse ahead. “That’s the whole point. You eat your fill because you can afford to do so now. It’s not like we consume every root and grain until there’s nothing left; we set aside what we will need in the future, then we take advantage of the extra bounty. We have guests, we share our crop with our neighbors, we thank the powers-that-be. We know what scarcity looks like; by mid-autumn we would have been prepared for the harder winter months. So, large festivals usually happen during the warmer seasons.”

Up ahead, she saw the gruff man cut them off, and her stern look returned, prepared for resistance. She hadn’t expected Cordon to be warm and welcoming at all, despite the liveliness they had just observed. Kire frowned at the man as he and Ruli spoke, then smirked when he showed interest in her sword. “My lord wants to see my blade?” she asked, before she unsheathed it, the tip pointed at the man’s unruly beard. “Do you like it?” she said, smirk gone. “You could perhaps tell it is very well made, and I won’t trade it even for the whole of your warehouse with your mother thrown in with it. Now, if you would kindly be open to other offers, I will settle for some lumber for this, instead.” Her other hand fished out one of the coins she had kept close with her. “I’m sure you and my associate here would be able to strike a good deal without loss of limb, yes?” She tickled the beard with the point of her sword as she spoke.

Wanderers

Kire held back a quip about him pointing out the obvious, though when he pointed to the written sign, she had to squint. The writing looked familiar, but too foreign for her to understand. She was thankful he at least read it out loud. “Heart festival? Wait, Ziad never had festivals? Huh.” Kire glanced at him, wondering what he thought of all this. “It’s a celebration, so, yes, lots of food. I’m used to festivals either celebrating a seasonal harvest of some sort, being thankful for a plentiful period. Or, an occasion important to the rulers of the land, or an offering to their patron god. Lots of wine, lots of dancing, parades, sometimes even travelling performers. It’s quite fun.”

While Ruli was asking for directions, Kire was concentrating on trying to ignore all the smells of grilled seafood, sweet wine, and strong coffee. The petulant part of her wanted to leave Ruli alone so she could explore, but she firmly, if not a little sadly, reminded herself that she had volunteered herself for the task. She walked alongside him, letting him lead the way, until they rounded the corner and he changed into a totally different person. Kire looked out at the ocean, smiling, then glanced sidelong at her companion. She was quiet, unaware of the smile still tugging at the corners of her mouth, before she looked away and out at the water.

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” she finally said, crossing her arms. “I mean, you might get sick of all that expanse when you’re stuck on a ship for days, but otherwise, it’s quite a thing to behold, hm?” She let him soak in the sight, deciding to not interrupt until he was ready to move on with their task; she could definitely understand his awe. And though she’d been to the sea many times over the past half year, she was still rather fond of the seaside.

Wanderers

“Hm. Will hear that story another time then,” Kire said, catching the hint. Envy might be a better storyteller anyway, she thought, wondering why she still bothered getting a real conversation out of him. She sighed, looking about at how festive the Cordon homes were. It made her feel all the more alone here, in his company, and all the more upset at the stark contrast between the ghetto they had just come from and the barebones dwelling in the mountains, and all this rich life.

And the smells—despite herself, Kire wished they had time to at least eat some of their food. Gods, Kire, you’re a bottomless pit, she thought, already imagining her cousins ribbing her about her appetite. “Fine. Lumber, no boots. Your feet will be complaining soon, though.” She followed Ruli, quiet, deciding to just leave him to his thoughts, focusing instead on taking in as much of Cordon as she could see while on their errands.

Something about all the colorful trappings reminded her of preparations for festivities. She caught sight of some people only just hanging up ornaments outside their homes, and some taverns and inns cleaning house. Hmm. Curious. She looked at her companion, saw that he had covered his face. Was he afraid of being recognized, or was it all too much for him? “I don’t suppose you have any idea what they’re getting ready for,” Kire remarked, not expecting an answer. Perhaps they could chat up the person they would be buying from about this.

For their transactions, Kire decided to let Ruli take the lead. She wasn’t good at haggling, anyway, though she could perhaps offer some rudimentary advice on the lumber they would be purchasing. She wasn’t even sure how, exactly, commerce operated here.

Wanderers

Kire stood still for a few more moments, taking stock of their surroundings. Slums. And there weren’t people about, at least on this side of the rather dilapidated wall. She could recognize a ghetto when she saw one. She could hear the hustle and bustle of the rest of Cordon on the other side. “Alright then. Supplies and tools for building, seeds, old furniture, any other essential items we could get for the coin that’s left afterwards.” She glanced at his boots again before they moved forward.

Cordon reminded her of many a port city she had seen back in Amria: a melting pot of different people, from different walks of life. It was almost familiar. She could see why Ysaryn suggested she would have a good time there. Too bad about their nasty streak towards elves. “Ysaryn said they were ‘shadow-elves’, and they’re somehow related to Kartaians. Are there other kinds of elves elsewhere? Can they all move through shadow the way shadow elves do?” she asked, glancing around her. They passed by a group of sailors who eyed her and made teasing remarks. Kire knew better than to dignify them with a response, imagining instead her seafaring friends and what they’d have done to the men had they been with Kire at the moment. Particularly Narda. “Where’s our first stop?”

Wanderers

Kire shrugged at his retort. “I’ve learned to hold my liquor much better. But I suppose that’s not what you meant,” she said, raising a brow. “And you’ve seen what I can do already.” Technically that was true, and technically he hadn’t asked how she was doing these things. She followed him in silence after that, though, pondering at what he meant by not doing anything else anymore. Trusting his word on an ability he didn’t wish to disclose? Kire smirked. Keeps his cards close to his chest, as usual. For now, it was enough to get his admission that there was something else he was capable of, even if he wasn’t specific about it.

When, later, he held out his hand to her as they stood beneath the tree, Kire hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over his. With a huff, she instead wrapped her fingers around his forearm, where his sleeve covered his skin. “Ready.”

Having already anticipated how the cold dark would feel, Kire did her best to steady her nerves, even as, just as he had warned, they were taking longer than it did when he had pulled her through the last time. It took concentration for her not to hold onto him tighter out of instinct. When, finally, they stepped out into the light, Kire let out a breath she had been holding. That smell. Immediately, she recognized the salt tang in the air, but she also was familiar with the smells and odors that accompanied the poorer quarters of a port city.

Wanderers

Kire woke with a start at Ruli’s nudging, a frown already creasing her features. It took a few blinks for her to slowly realize that she had asked him to wake her. Still frowning, she squinted at him, looked him up and down, and declared, still woozy with sleep, “We’re buying you boots. No buts. You look like an overgrown child in those.” With a nod, as if in agreement with herself, she stood, strapping on her sword belt, slung the waterskin over her shoulder, and double-checked to make sure she had the allotted coin with her. She was about to say she was ready when she saw he had already turned away. Frowning again, she walked briskly to catch up.

“Alright.” She already shuddered, thinking about the cold of the shadows they were about to walk into. “So, is it just this ‘shadow-walking’ that your magic can do?”