Horizons of the Heart

By Melange
Copyright © 2013 Melange
All Rights Reserved.

Synopsis

The plan is as simple as it is foolproof. If they split up, they can cover more ground quickly! The cousins begin to look into the situation down by the harbour, Rhyce and Oleander tries to track down the merchants behind the smuggling operation, and Mirena tries to coax Jaden into coming along to see her new friend Arim.

Flashback: Kellen goes on one of his first expeditions into a forgotten ruin.

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Chapter 18: Mirror Hearts

KELLEN

The air that rushed out of the sealed chamber smelled dank and stale. The men stepped back cautiously, since there had been other surprised throughout their hour-long trek through the underground passages below the old ruin. The light from the torches didn't reach the entire way into what they suspected was the innermost section, and what they couldn’t see was a cause for hesitation.

There had been several dead ends and concealed doorways already, but Mozet claimed that they were nearing the outer edge of how far the complex could stretch before breaking through to the other side of the mountain. They trusted the dwarf's sense of direction, since it hadn't led them astray yet. Without the stocky magician from the underkingdom of Atun, they would most likely not have made it past the first couple of secret doors.

The largest among them, towering above the rest by a full head or more, raised his torch toward the fresco surrounding the heavy stone door standing ajar. They had studied the inscriptions before opening the sealed passage, of course, but there was something in the wording that nagged him.

"'Kaz mohok shu-ratak ekan'. Where wisdom of the eternal kingdom sleeps," Kellen mumbled to himself.

"Aye, it's an old dialect of the last orc kingdom, during the height of their civilisation. The continent was divided between the two great kingdoms, with the mountain ranges creating the natural border. By the time when humans and their Seren allies migrated here, the orc nation had devolved into warring tribes, forgetting much of their previous ways." Mozet raised his waterskin in a sombre toast to the memory of the fallen kingdom.

"It's a sad thing to bear witness to, the destruction of a culture," the Northman nodded. The Society of Rune Seekers was as much a custodian of history, as it was a magic tradition.

"Many of these words no longer exist in the modern orc tongue, having been replaced by Trade equivalents." Morkgha the half-orc focused on the evolution of language, both the written and the spoken. Even more so than any chance of discovering lost runes of magic, she sought to unearth the secrets of forgotten words. She followed as many expeditions as possible in her attempt to prove her theory of a primordial language that along the ages gave birth to every tongue spoken today. By comparing all different languages, she hoped to find the common roots and reconstruct what she imagined to be 'the language of the creators'.

"Since Strom lies so close to the tribal lands, we often have some exchange with the Grimstone orcs. Most in my village speak some modern tribal orcish," Kellen pointed to a section of the fresco. "Mohok, wisdom. But in spoken tribal, hok means 'light'."

"Root in 'enlightenment', no doubt," the half-orc scholar agreed, pleased to discuss her favourite subject.

While the two young rune seekers pondered the meaning of the inscription, their mentor sent the expedition’s workers inside to secure the chamber. Unlike the previous false rooms, this seemed to be the actual resting place of the high priest of the lost realm, as well as a repository of much of the orc culture's abandoned knowledge

Mozet Kuldban fingered his stoneshaper rune as the men pushed against the heavy lid covering the sarcophagus. After making sure there were no other obvious passages leading from the room, they had looked around for more traps. Only after making sure it was safe, did they begin attempting to open the magnificent stone tomb. Magic would easily make the slab flow away, but making the stone move like that would warp the decorative symbols beyond legibility. The dwarf always taught others to seek discoveries, but never at the cost of destroying anything left behind by the previous era.

One of the workers looked up, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Hey, Master Kuldban? Can't we get the Northman to help? He's big enough to move this by himself, I reckon."

Kellen looked away from the fresco and met the eyes of the struggling men.

"I may be strong, yes, but I am sure I can think of another way to do it." Kellen pointed at the inscription again. "Kaz mohok shu-ratak ekan."

The workers returned a tired, blank stare. They were not brought here for their skill in dead languages.

"Do you think it holds a key to this chamber, Winterheart?" Mozet put his thumbs in his belt. It was time to see what his students would make out of this puzzle.

"'Ekan' means sleep, yes, but it also means 'to reside' or even 'die'. Where something stops. Where LIGHT of the eternal kingdom STOPS." Kellen spoke was he walked into the burial chamber. The workers watched him with mixed curiosity.

"What do you think that means?" Morkgha asked, studying the sarcophagus for any other clues. It was riddled with symbolic depictions, an artwork that belied its descendants’ violent nature.

"That we're looking in the wrong place." Kellen raised his eyes toward the ceiling, which was as richly engraved with decorative lines and imagery as the walls.

"Do you think this is another false chamber?" Mozet asked casually, folding his arms.

Kellen didn't answer right away, but instead brushed his hand along a circular pattern in the ceiling. The Northman smiled, and waved to his mentor.

"We need your flame companion rune, Master." The stone inside the circle was slightly darker than the surrounding material.

Mozet smiled and held up a ball of fire to the pattern above his head. At first there was nothing, causing a small chuckle to spread around the men, but before soon the darker stone seemed to wither away into dust, leaving a circular hole a few inches wide. Dust continued to pour down, as whatever reaction they had started went on. Some of the workers shied away, fearing another trap. But as the magicians remained where they were, the rest eventually settled down to watch the stream of black sand.

"Very good, Winterheart. Very good indeed." The dwarven rune seeker gave praise where praise had been earned.

"Of course!" Morkgha exclaimed. "The light of the eternal kingdom. They weren't talking about their own kingdom. This was about their otherworldly allies from times of legend. They were talking about Skyreach! The light that resides there is the sun!"

The last dust escaped the hole and a faint ray of light shone down upon the centre of the sarcophagus.

"And the light stops here," Kellen said, putting his hand on the old stone. This chamber had waited a thousand years for someone to invite the sky back into the dark burial chamber.

A glow spread from the centre stone, outlining the inscriptions on the walls with skyblossom blue. The final gift of the high priest was written there clear as day.

The stairs creaked a little as Mirena went up to their rooms once more. She didn’t take it personally. Those stairs groaned equally at any weight, from the heavy Northmen to the light patter of the Old Hog’s dog. When she passed by the door to the room she and Oleander shared, she once again thought of her stained gown that she had changed out of when getting the her cedar box of oils and soaps earlier. She didn’t blame Jaden for getting muck on it when they had hugged earlier, but since the Old Hog didn’t offer any cleaning services — or much of any services at all, for that matter — it would stay dirty until she found time to take care of it herself. Mirena liked that gown, and it would pain her to see it ruined. The knight finally stopped outside the room that Jaden and Stann theoretically slept in. They might have to do some rearranging tonight, in the light of what had happened. Filing that thought away for later, she knocked.

When there was no answer, Mirena felt the handle and finding it unlocked she pushed it open partway.

“Jaden?” She called, her mind already imagining any number of scenarios where her friend wouldn’t, or couldn’t, answer. “I’m coming in.”

Mirena’s eyes immediately went to the shape lying in the bed on her side, rolled up in the blanket. The black hair spilled out at the top, and the woman’s eyes stared out through the window into the empty sky.

“Oh, sweetie,” Mirena said soothingly as she sat down next to Jaden. She brushed some strands away from that elfin face, touching the still wet streak where tears had run not long ago. “It’s alright.”

Those golden eyes immediately focused at the knight, and scowled in sudden anger.

“Don’t, Rena! Stop treating me as a… a girl!” Jaden just short of snarled.

“But- Yes, you’re right. I apologise. It’s just so easy to…” Mirena trailed off, giving her friend a thoughtful look.

“Do what? Forget? You’ve known me for over a year, and I’ve always been a man! How could a single day of this change all that?” The black-haired mystic pushed her into a sitting position. Her voice wavered with anger and hurt.

“No, I was going to say ‘it’s so easy to believe’.” Mirena took note of how Jaden was sitting, but decided not to say anything that might upset the mystic even more.

“I’m still me, Rena. Despite all this, it’s me inside. Please remember that,” Jaden said as she clutched the blanket between her hands, as if she was trying to choke the life out of whatever was hurting her.

“I promise,” the knight assured, briefly wanting to touch the other woman’s arm. “The rest of us are getting ready to look into what you and Oleander saw in the harbour.”

“Alright. Who am I going with?” Jaden said eagerly. Action would make the thoughts and feelings go away. At least for a little while.

“With me, but not naked,” Mirena pointed at the towel wrapped around her friend, who immediately blushed. “Did you find anything of yours that still fit?”

“I… I was distracted,” the mystic glanced away at a half-eaten fruit lying on Stann’s bed among the rumpled blankets.

“Well, why don’t you go ahead and do that now, and I’ll see if I can find anything in my room.” The knight got up, straightening her dress and left Jaden to go through her mostly unsuitable clothes.

Everything was too big. It wasn’t as if Jaden was much shorter than before. Two inches or so, she imagined. But the lack of overall bulk meant that her old clothes could fall off if she tried to wear them. The last good shirt even slipped over a shoulder when she tried it on. The sleeves looked ridiculously long as well.

She barely had time to try much else before the door opened to allow a pile of folded clothes inside. Mirena carefully put the big bundle down on the bed, and picked up the top item to show.

"No, Rena. I'm not wearing a skirt!"

"I was just trying to be practical. I'm not sure that Oleander's leggings will fit you."

"Why not? I'm not that much taller than her." Jaden looked at Mirena. The knight had been about Jaden’s old height, and was probably a little taller than her now.

"It's not that, Jaden. You're a little fuller than her, with wider hips. Skirts are more forgiving in that way."

"Oh." Jaden felt even more self-conscious. Had her friend just called her fat? She didn't feel fat. Jaden mentally shook herself. She had too many worries already to bother with that! "Well, I'm still not doing that. I've got another pair of trousers still. I can tighten my belt enough to keep them up, I think."

"Very well," Mirena said patiently. "Here's one of my undershirts and a blouse. I'll wait for you downstairs with the others."

As Mirena walked back to the door, she stopped and left a brush on the table, meaningfully.

Jaden glared at the pile of clothes. There were several skirts in there, she was sure of it. What was this obsession with skirts and gowns in the coastlands? Back in Talraman, the clothes both men and women wore looked much the same. Armour, normal wear, robes. Tailored to fit, of course, but nothing like these garments.

“Ridiculous. No. Not doing it!” Jaden stopped her hand as she was about to childishly push the pile on the floor. Those were her friends’ clothes. They didn’t deserve that. The temper that had boiled hotly, escaped through her lips in a long, suffering sigh.

Jaden pulled on one of her last pair of trousers. They had fitted her more or less up until now, after all. If she pushed the extra length on the legs into her boots, that is. They were also very loose around the waist and stretched taut across her hips and behind. The illusion had hid it before, but now it was obvious that they weren't meant to be worn by someone looking like her.

The grey undershirt Mirena had left her was of a fine but hard-wearing cotton. Not as nice as the silk chemise Jaden had lost in Redwall, but she suspected that it was something the knight wore underneath her armour or when they were out trekking through the wilderness. Jaden felt a flush reach her cheeks when she realised that this garment felt a little tight as well. Not uncomfortably so, but another reminder of things Jaden didn't want to think about right now.
Admittedly, the undershirt and blouse fit much better than her old shirt, which had sleeves that went well beyond her hands and tented embarrassingly down from her chest. With that imagine in mind she laced a creamy blouse as tightly as she could.

More to make Mirena happy than anything else, Jaden pulled the brush through her hair a couple of times. She had always had long hair - most men in Talraman did - and she was no stranger to taking care of it, but this had been the first time Mirena, or any of her friends for that matter, had encouraged her to brush it. Things had definitely changed.

When Jaden had finally prepared herself to the best of her ability given the circumstances, she reluctantly went down to the common room join Mirena. All the others had managed to find some reason to linger as well, and all eyes were upon Jaden as she walked down the stairs. There was curiosity, evaluation, hurt, and even attraction in those eyes. She kept her own eyes on the floor, to avoid those looks. She didn't trust herself in keeping her composure otherwise. Right now, she felt half compelled to just run back up to her room. But beneath that fear and shame was a memory of floating in that warmth, and the voice that kept telling her everything was going to be alright. Would it? Would it really?

It's not so far, if you reach out.

“Here we go, then. Red and Rhyce, you’re off to find out about those merchants, Rena and Jay are going to see if you can tap that nobleman of yours. Kel and I are heading down to the harbour to shake things up a bit.” Stann pointed with his entire hand at the people he was talking to.

“Figuratively, of course,” Kellen felt the need to add, just in case.

“Of course,” his cousin replied with a big grin. Some boats might get rocked.

They all agreed to meet back up by sundown, and see what their respective investigations had led to. It had been a long day for some of them, but there was still a lot to do. In situations like this, time was of the essence. The longer they waited, the less likely it would be for them to find anything worthwhile. As it was, it was several hours since Oleander had been afflicted by the lingering effects of the curse. Hopefully, they still had time.

When they were about to head out, Rhyce turned to Jaden and brought her to the side. Oleander had already gone on ahead with a long, hurt look at the black-haired mystic, and waited outside.

"She doesn't hate you. She's just angry and hurt." The archer assured Jaden.

"Everyone's hurt because of me," she mumbled. Sometimes it felt like everything she did hurt someone.

"Some are alive because of you."

"... can I save my friendship with her?" Jaden had to look up a little bit to meet the archer’s eyes.

"Do you want to?" Rhyce asked.

"Of course!" Oleander was the first real friend Jaden had made after leaving her home. The redhead meant the world to the mystic.

"Then talk with her."

"I tried. She just yelled at me and ran off." Words hurt. Lies hurt. Truth hurt as well.

"That was you talking to yourself, only loud enough for her to hear. You said what you wanted to say, but not what she needed to hear. Try again, and speak with your heart open."

"How did you get to be this wise, Rhyce?" Jaden honestly wondered. When they had first met, she had initially assumed that many of his sayings were simply repeated from things he had heard. Now, a year later, she knew better.

"I was married," he answered laconically. Something passed across those brown eyes, but Jaden could feel a reverberation inside her heart.

"Oh. What happened?" The words escaped her lips before she could think about it.

"I was too late."

Mirena joined them at the same time Rhyce bowed his head and left. The knight gave Jaden another appraising look, and apparently decided that the mystic’s outfit was good enough to risk showing in public.

“The perfume was a nice touch,” Mirena approved, as they stepped out into the late afternoon sun in the streets of Farcrest.

“What perfume?” Jaden looked confused.

“Oh? That’s not you? I swear I can smell violets.” The knight made a humming shrug, and led the way toward the market district.

Rhyce walked a little faster to catch up. When Oleander had seen Jaden and Mirena exit the inn and head in the same direction as they, she had immediately gone on ahead at an angry speed. She clearly didn’t feel ready to talk with the mystic yet. The moment the archer caught up with the redhead, she turned to him and let Rhyce know without any doubt what was on her mind.

"I can't believe he kept this from us for all this time." Oleander fumed, practically stalking up the street. People who got close enough to see her expression exchanged confused glances, and got out of the way.

"Tried to tell us, in his own way." Rhyce had his eyes on something up by the roofs.

"That's rot, Rhyce," she snapped.

"Then why did he always change the subject when we asked about mystics or their forms?"

"That's NOT talking about something!" Oleander felt her anger rush up. She hated feeling like this. Even with everything that had happened before today, all the fighting and all the frightening places they’ve seen, it had always been fun. There had always been… him.

"Silence speaks louder than words, if you listen." The archer offered one of his cryptic wisdoms.

"You can take your-"

"What do friends do, Red?" Rhyce interrupted, as they turned a corner and headed up toward the street where people normally went for food, drink and merry times. They were looking for neither of those.

"What?" The question caught Oleander by surprise. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Friends stand by each other." Rhyce said, as he looked toward the sky again. Some sort of black bird swept across the rooftops.

"They also don't lie to one another!" She hissed, her eyes narrowing when her mind replayed what she had seen today. It had started so good. The magic-meeting had been boring, but afterwards Jay and she had gone to the harbour together, like old times. In that storage room, they had even…

"Sure they do. You lie to us all the time, Red, but that doesn't make you any less of my friend." The archer gave her a straight on stare. "Question is, still want to be Jaden's friend?"

"... I don't know."

"Find out." He said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Curse it, Rhyce! I... I really liked him," Oleander stomped the ground a little, resolute not to cry any more. Not over that stupid jerk, and his stupid lies, and his stupid lips.

"Then be a friend." Again with that simplicity.

"How? How can I trust him again?" How could she just turn off the way she felt?

"Because he never stopped trusting you, and he needs you right now." The archer looked ahead, showing that he had said everything he was going to on this subject.

Oleander was about to say something when both of them saw a familiar face next to a tavern door in the early evening streets.

"Eerie," said Rhyce. He was right. The similarities were striking.

"That's her. That's his sister, Lilya. But what is she doing here?" The redhead stepped back around the corner, so they could observe the Talramani woman in secret.

They watched the tavern for a while, seeing the black-haired elven woman turn away people who wanted to enter. Some looked like they were going to take issue with her stopping them from going inside, but one look at the steel lance she carried took the wind out of their sails. It looked as if she was guarding the place.

Rhyce looked up at the sky intently, but for what Oleander didn’t know, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Lilya. Jaden and his sister looked so much alike. Suddenly, the black-haired woman changed stance, and stared at something across the street. A crow had landed on a tavern sign on the other side. Oleander had seen a lot of those lately, come to think of it. Suddenly, Rhyce grabbed her and pulled her completely around the corner. The last thing she saw before her view was blocked by the building was Lilya looking down the street toward their position. How had she noticed them?

Rhyce said something under his breath, and shook his head as if to clear it. Oleander had no idea what was going on, but when the archer was distracted, she risked another peek around the corner.

A group of people had left the tavern. She didn’t know much about magicians, but even Oleander recognised the robes of the Arcane Order. She had seen plenty of the sorcerers at the convocation this morning. Lilya was getting their attention, and pointed down the road in Oleander’s direction while talking to them, but before the sorcerers could reply that winged man exited too. The general of the mystics shook hand with a particularly well-dressed sorcerer, and allowed Lilya to escort everyone away from Oleander’s corner. Jaden’s sister shot one last look toward the redhead, as if she could see through the wall.

"What was Jay's sister doing here? Doesn't she have to be at that big gathering with her boss?" Oleander thought out loud.

"There must be a reason why they were here instead," Rhyce replied.

"Why do you think that winged wizard is here? He is some sort of really important person from Jay's hometown. The representative of the mystics, or something like that. But Jay said he was pretty much the leader of their military, rather than a diplomat." What was the word Jay had used? Defender? Protector?

"Which begs the question why they're conducting business away from the other magicians," the archer mused.

"Anyway, the tavern Jay and I visited yesterday is this place nearby. The Potted Ogre?" Oleander reckoned it was time for them to get back on track. They had wasted enough time spying on Jay’s sister.

"Ochra's Pot."

"That's the one!"

A nice breeze reached the two tall Northmen, bringing the smell of salt from the sea. They had spoken a little while walking down to the harbour, idly discussing how fishing from the piers would be, or whether they should go meet up with the Ravenwing men for beer and stories when they were done today. It was a half-hearted conversation at best, as both their minds were on different things.

"So, what do you think?" Stann asked his cousin.

"About Jaden?" Kellen saw Stann nod. What else would they talk about? "Well, I'm reasonably sure it is in fact him. You can switch clothes and looks easy enough, but that girl has the memories of our friend. Those are not as easy to change."

"If this turns out to be another skinwalker, I'm going to be pretty upset, Kel." The warrior warned.

"That's unlikely. We're much too far away from Etria and the jungles in the far south, and even if one had managed to make its way up here, it still wouldn't account for her being a magician." The rune seeker laid out the facts.

"How can we be sure of that?" Stann wondered. Their experience with the Skinwalker of Etria had been a gruelling, fearful experience he would give much to avoid repeating.

"Well, if we're assuming the switch would have occurred back in Rosehaven, since we've observed Jaden using his magic both back in Teir, and on the road afterwards, it still wouldn't account for how him being able to enter the Convocation. A gathering like that uses some pretty rigorous defence screenings. If they could detect a hidden magmaquake spell, they would pick out the magic that binds the stolen skin to the monster."

"Red said she saw him change shape back at the harbour, though,” the warrior pointed out. Any shapeshifting was suspicious behaviour in his eyes. People should stay who they are, if you asked him.

"She said he instantly shifted. Remember, skinwalkers has to actually take on the skin of another being. It's much more likely he used some sort of illusion." Kellen was the group’s authority on magic for a reason.

"Oh, yeah. So, it's really our little brother back there?" The hopefulness in Stann’s voice couldn’t be hidden, even by the gruff clearing of his throat.

"Good question. I'd say, 'more or less'. After all, we don't know what happens to a mystic once their other form starts leaking into their normal selves." The rune seeker would have given much to have been able to sit down with one of those envoys from Talraman for a serious discussion about the magic of the mystics. There was so much he didn’t know, and Jaden hadn’t been very forthcoming on the subject.

"Huh. There's a headache. Anyway, let's see what we can find out about these creatures they saw around here." Stann took the lead, and approached a group of harbour workers sitting on a couple of crates.

The oldest of the workers, with bushy eyebrows and smoking a blackened old pipe, looked up when the Northmen stopped next to them. The others stopped talking among themselves and the cousins shortly had the attention of them all.

“Help you, Northerner?” The old man squinted a little in the low sun. He was probably old enough to have had relatives that remembered the fighting between Alband and the North.

“You bet. We’re wanting to find where the Marsander ships pick up their cargo,” Stann spoke with the voice of someone perfectly at ease in the situation. His eyes went to the dice the workers had left on the ground.

“Now, why would you want to go and do that?” The older man tapped his pipe against the crate to shake the ashes out of it.

“Captain Fancypants looked to get some extra protection after the ruckus,” the warrior grinned, patting his broadsword.

“Yeah, I heard about that. Fancypants, eh? Fits Captain Darrtai well enough.” The man barked a laugh. “Between the two of you lads, I imagine he’ll have all the protection he needs.”

“Best his silver can buy,” Stann bragged without a shred of modesty. The other workers joined in on the laugh, and the tension ran out of them. Two even squatted back down and picked up their dice.

“Well, you boys just head over to the big red building by the north pier,” the old man turned and pointed with the stem of his pipe up along the harbour to the part furthest away. A good place to conduct business, if one wanted to go unnoticed.

“My thanks, saltbeard,” the Northman waved, and left the workers to their gambling.

While the cousins crossed the boardwalk toward the other end of the harbour, Kellen shrugged a little uncomfortably. He had looked a bit distant during their talk with the locals.

“It always amazes me how you can just find the right words with total strangers like that, Bear.”

“What do you mean? It’s nothing special, Kel. They were hardworking, regular folks. You just have to know how to approach them, that’s all.”

“That’s just what I mean. Maybe I’m spending too much time with magicians,” the rune seeker grimaced. “Sometimes I forget how those regular people see the world, I guess. In simpler terms, I suppose.”

“There’s honesty in simple, cousin. No need to complicate life more than it already is.” That was Stann’s philosophy in life, wrapped nice and tidy.

“You’re probably right,” Kellen agreed.

They didn’t have too much of a problem finding the storage house they were looking for. It was a sizeable building in the shadow of even larger ones. Despite the dull red paint, it almost seemed to blend in. There was nobody around, though. But at this hour, most workers would have headed home. Looking around, trying to appear as they were casually walking by, Stann spotted subtle movement in a narrow, dark alley that squeezed between the hulking buildings.

“Did you see that?” He murmured to Kellen.

“Aye. There’s someone there. I believe he was watching our warehouse here,” the rune seeker risked another glance to the side as they kept walking.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, ugly cousin?”

“Worald boar-trap!” The two started grinning.

The village of Worald lies in a canyon between two mountains, and the rugged terrain is filled with narrow passages and cracks where most of the bushes and small vegetation ekes out a half-frozen existence. Warmth from underground seeping up through those cracks makes them more habitable for the wildlife than the open, snowy steppes above. The passages are often so narrow, that when hunters approach from both directions at once, the boars that live down there can’t escape.

Stann set off to circle around the buildings as soon as they passed out of sight. Kellen kept a silent count, taking his cousins speed and the size of the warehouses into account. When the time drew close, he stepped back out and charged toward the narrow alley. He was meant to be seen, after all.

The hooded figure immediately spotted the lumbering Northman heading its way, and turned to run. The trap closed. It ran straight into Stann’s waiting arms, who easily forced the smaller person against a wall. When Kellen arrived, Stann reached up and yanked the hood back.

“Let’s see who you are!” The hood fell away, showing a full head of pale blonde hair and pointed ears. The elven woman stared back indignantly. Stann blinked a few times, then grinned widely. “Well, hel-lo!”

“Let me go!” The elf struggled against his grip, but then finally tilted her head to the side. “Oh, it’s you.”

"You two know each other?" Kellen raised an eyebrow, but not entirely surprised that his cousin knew all the elven maidens in the town already.

"We shared a precious moment this morning," Stann smiled, letting his grip ease up just enough for her to angrily pull free and back up half a step.

"This... perot kept bothering me, so I had to leave. I'd like to leave now too, if you'd just get out of my way," the anger caused her Sorunese accent to get thicker, but with the alley being as narrow as it was, she wouldn't be going anywhere until the Northmen let her.

"Why were you watching that warehouse?" Kellen's question made her put her back toward the wall again so she could see them both at the same time. He had stepped back a bit to give her room, but was still blocking the way out of the alley.

"Curiosity about human shipping policies?" The lilt in her voice could’ve been sarcasm, or her accent. Probably sarcasm, though.

"Then you weren't here about any smuggling operations, involving fey creatures from the Sorun wildlands?" Kellen asked straight on. He wasn’t as good with twisting words like Oleander or Jaden.

The elf paused, her eyes narrowing. One of her hands had disappeared inside her sleeves.

"And if I was?" There was a dangerous edge in her voice.

"It just so happens that my friend here and I are looking into the matter as well. We know that they kept a dryad and a dracone in there, among other beings,” the rune seeker explained.

"Those ilarai monsters," she hissed, looking to the sky for patience. "I knew it, but I had no proof."

"You still don't, just our word." Stann pointed out, prompting her to look back at him. He had wiped the smarmy grin from his face. "May I ask who you are?"

"Can we go somewhere else to talk?" The elven woman crossed her arms, trying to look as if she wasn’t being verbally mugged by two giants.

"I know a tavern close by," the warrior offered, and stepped aside to show that they wouldn't keep her if she wanted to go. "It's a reasonably nice place, for a tankard and to play with our cards open."

One of the good things about looking for something specific in a big enough city, was that there was often someone who had already made it, rather than having to place an order. This was especially true with clothes, and doubly so during festival times. The seamstresses’ store Mirena had brought Jaden to was loaded with both completed and half-finished garments of all manner of sizes and styles. It made the place in Rosehaven seem like a small thing in comparison.

It didn’t take long for their first argument, however. Immediately after stepping inside, Mirena had been drawn to the racks of gowns, but it wasn’t until she held one out in front of her and quizzically looked at Jaden, when the mystic began to raise her voice.

"Rena, please. I don't want a dress!" Jaden’s voice went up an octave at the sight of the offending outfit.

"It's quite comfortable, I assure you," the knight brought the gown back closer to herself, fearing that her friend might do something to it. Jaden looked quite stressed, and did have all that fire magic.

"No means no. I'll take something like what Ollie's wearing, thank you very much." The mystic crossed her arms resolutely, but immediately let her arms fall back to her side with a dismayed expression.

Mirena sighed, missing having a feminine companion to appreciate the finer things in life with. Oleander didn’t really fit that bill. But she had promised to treat her black-haired friend like the man she… he was.

"Very well, let's find you a better fitting pair of leggings and a bodice instead of that vest of yours. It appears rather tight around your top, and loose in the middle. You look a bit silly, actually,” Mirena smiled to take the edge off, but in all honesty Jaden looked like a crazy person who had rolled through a washing line.

"I know that. Fine, okay. But no frilly things. I just want to be able to... nothing too much, okay?" The mystic looked around, appearing every part of a sad puppy who didn’t want to be here.

"How about this one?" The knight presented a nice summer blouse of an attractive dark pink, almost red.

"No! It shows way too much... skin." Jaden gestured at the blouse’s neckline, which admittedly, would show a hint of the bust.

"Very well, how about this?" The next suggestion was a creamy silk, and felt nice in Mirena’s hands.

"It looks too girly." She pointed at the decorative embroidery, and the touch of lace along the hems.

"I see. Maybe there's something else further down here." Mirena had given her word, and would be patient.

"Can't we just get something for a... an older boy or something?" The black-haired mystic tried to negotiate.

"Jaden, none of that will fit. There's a reason clothes are made for women the way they are. Don't think of them as 'female' clothes. Just think of them as 'clothes' period. Just clothes."

"... I'll try. What was that yellow shirt again?"

"It's jasmin, and it's a blouse. You don't want that one, though." Mirena folded the item in question and put it back with the other.

"Why not? I liked that one the most."

"Oleander has one very similar," the brown-haired Tierwoman said, clearly explaining everything. Jaden didn’t seem to get it.

It took much longer than either of them expected to find enough to warrant a trip into the fitting room in the back. Jaden had fought her on every suggestion, every step of the way. Even the patient Mirena with all her temple training, began to feel a dull throbbing in her head. The two seamstresses had allowed them to continue this dance routine of suggestion and rejection, all while smiling into their current needlework.

"Rena, I can't wear this. It makes me look..."

Jaden watched herself in the mirror. She couldn’t look away. She had donned a snug bodice over a new silk chemise, and was now seeing what it did to her shape. This is what she had enjoyed seeing on girls when she grew up, but to be that person herself was terrifying. Would other men now look at her like she had done?

"Like what?" The knight stood on the other side of a dressing screen, silently repeating the tenets of the Five Temples.

"See for yourself! It pushes everything up!" Jaden allowed Mirena behind the screen.

"Well, you're certainly a big girl. I see that what I suspected in the bath is quite true." She suspected that, aside from the effect of the bodice, her newly female friend might even be a little larger than her.

"I don't want this. Can't I just bind these... things down?" Jaden stared at the mirror in horror.

"The padding under my armour, together with the weight of the steel, makes me almost flat. But I will tell you that it's not very comfortable for any extended period." Field training had been a painful experience for every squire in the temple, but it had been even worse for the female ones. Several days in a camp, constantly prepared for battle.

"Well, I'm not wearing this. I can’t see my feet." The mystic gestured at herself, causing an involuntary jiggle.

"That's your choice. Just be sure to get something to help support yourself, though. Otherwise, you'll end up with a sore back, and shoulders, not to mention..."

"I get it already. Thank you, Rena.” Jaden leaned forward a bit and tugged it up as far as it would go. It only made the situation worse. “Do I have to keep wearing something like this?"

"It's a bodice, Jaden. Women of our size need something to support ourselves with. Corsets or bodices are common up here, or there are the wraps of Etria or Marsantias if you're partial to them?" Mirena calmly explained.

"Lil used to complain about these all the time," Jaden mumbled, as she hesitantly poked the offending garment.

Mirena was a tactician at heart, and knew when to change her angle of attack.

"Did you use to wear a belt before?" She asked.

"Yes, of course. Otherwise my trousers would fall down." Jaden felt a little unprepared for the strange question.

"Because your waist and hips were roughly the same size, right? So, you used a supportive aid back then, too. This is similar to that, only suited to the female physique." The knight gestured at herself as an example, touching her gown where her own bodice was hidden underneath the layer of cotton.

"You're telling me that this is a kind of... boob-belt?"

"I wouldn't have put it quite as crassly as that, but essentially." Mirena winced a little. "Also, good support and well-fitting clothes will help keep everything in place."

Jaden liked the idea of that. Going down stairs had become an unpleasant experience lately.

Ochra’s Pot was like Oleander remembered it from yesterday. A nice place to eat or, as it turned out, conduct blackmail. She immediately recognised the smiling woman who had brought them their food, who was attending to a group of people who were clearly there for the beer and what they saw down her blouse when she put the tankards on their table. When the barmom seemed to have a moment to herself, the redhead walked up with a worried expression on her face.

“Can I help you, sweetheart?” The older woman asked the short Olman girl, who was dragging a rough-looking man nearly twice her age with her.

“Please, could you?” Oleander let her voice tremble a little. “I’ve been trying to find my father. I know he comes to this place with his friend sometimes. They work together, see? My father is a businessman.”

“Okay?” The barmom leaned back at a doorpost, not sure where this was going, but willing to listen to the girl’s story.

“He never talks about his work with me, and ever since Reese and I got together he’s been avoiding me. But we need to find him, to give my father the happy news!” The redhead touched her stomach carefully.

“Oh, honey,” the other woman sighed and shook her head a bit. She could definitely empathise with the girl, having had her first child while still very young. The man who clearly was the father to the redhead’s growing child seemed oddly stone-faced however. “Alright. Who was it again?”

“I heard that my father was going to meet with a Marsander ship captain here yesterday, but we must’ve missed them. Can you tell me where I can find them?”

“Oh, I remember your dad. Delev and Orist comes here often enough, I guess. They’ve got a trading house not that far from here, I remember. Just down the street, and turn toward the seaside.”

“Thank you so much! I can’t wait to tell him! Now maybe we can get his blessing.” Oleander smiled sweetly, and led the silent archer outside.

The barmom just shook her head again, sending her best wishes with the unlikely couple. Seasons will come and go, but girls would keep making stupid mistakes.

“Don’t do that again, Red.” Rhyce kept his face carefully neutral as they headed toward the next step in their investigation.

“What? Make up a story like that? Eh. We’ll never see her again, most likely. It got the job done, didn’t it?” Oleander made a dismissive wave with her hand.

“It did. Let’s go.” She didn’t see the flash of pain in the archer’s eyes.

It wasn’t hard finding the right place. The large building proudly wore the sign saying ‘Delev & Orist Trading Company’ above their front door, and even with the sun heading down there was still people coming and going.

They went around the house to get a good look at it, when they heard voices coming out of a window left slightly open. Not having to be told twice to eavesdrop, Oleander snuck up next to the window and peeked inside. Rhyce was right behind her.

Inside was a sitting room with plush couches and nice paintings. It was the kind of room where you made agreements and deals with people you wanted to impress, but not browbeat, with your success. None of the people in the room made use of those couches however. She recognised the two merchants, one with thinning brown hair and a distinct nose, the other with the thick moustache and sideburns that was popular among the Albander.

The other two were much more interesting. Both of them wore cloaks with the hoods down, and were much younger than the merchants, only a couple of years older than Oleander, by her estimation. The man had inky black hair chopped short and uneven, as if he had cut it himself, and swirling tattoos around his face and hands. The woman had dark hair also, but it was streaked with bright blue. She looked exhausted, with dark eyes and even a little sweat around her brow. Oleander could almost see the woman shake a little as she forced herself to remain standing.

There was obviously a heated discussion happening in there.

"This was a little more than you told us about, Orist. You wanted us to lean on some locals and make sure your shipments got through quietly." The shadowmarked man pointed accusatorily at one of the merchants. "Look at what they did to Veranna! You never said anything about fighting a lich and its bodyguards!"

"We paid you handsomely to provide solutions to sensitive negotiations, Taseno. The treachery came as a surprise to us as well, but the important thing is that we managed to send off a good portion of our shipment." The man with the sideburns put his thumbs in the pockets of his vest, and rocked on his heels a bit.

"I took care of the rest. No evidence, like you asked," Taseno, the tattooed man, growled.

"Good. Good." The first merchant finally looked at the blue-streaked woman. "Is your friend able to do her job?"

"Of course! What kind of weaklings do you take us for?" Taseno half stepped forward, reaching out across the woman, Veranna, with a protective arm.

"Just making sure, Taseno. Take tomorrow off, rest up or whatever it is your kind do, and then we'll see you back here in a couple of days," Delev graciously offered.

"Pleasure as always, Taseno, Ilduste." The other merchant nodded at the strange pair.

As soon as the merchants left the office, their heads close in mumbled discussion that Oleander barely could make out. Rhyce was listening intently, probably able to hear every word as clearly as if he stood next to them.

"Nerak..." Veranna began, falling into rather than sitting down in the couch. Maintaining even a poor facade of strength had exhausted her.

"You just need some rest, Vera. You'll be back to your usual self before you know it." The man with the black marks squeezed her shoulder.

"I don't... I can't feel him anymore. There's nothing there!" The woman reached out with a pleading expression to her companion.

"I swear to you, I'll kill every last one of those monsters. They're ashes on the wind; they just don't know it yet."

The blue-streaked woman didn't seem to listen, however. She just kept staring emptily, repeating that she couldn't feel. Rhyce pulled Oleander away from the window. They had risked enough remaining there as long as they had. When they had made it back to the street, they stopped and exchanged a look.

"What did we just see?" Oleander wondered aloud.

"Were those two Albander men the ones you saw at Ochra's Pot?" The archer asked.

"I think so, yeah. One of them had a moustache like that, and I definitely remember that gold necklace. That ruby alone must be worth two hundred crowns!"

"Are you sure?" Rhyce demanded.

"Definitely. Maybe even three hundred, to the right buyer." She knew the right byers alright. Her mind was already filled with the things she would buy with that kind of shinies.

"Red..."

"Oh, the merchants? Yeah. Sure enough. Who do you think those other two were? They looked a little strange, especially the girl." Oleander felt that they had seemed a little familiar. Not the look, but the way they talked. Almost as if…

"She had scales around her hairline. Those two are probably mystics." Rhyce confirmed her hunch.

"Wait, mystics? Like Jay?" She had travelled with Jay for over a year and not seen another mystic, and now they appeared to be everywhere.

"Mystics, yes. Like Jaden? No." The archer said, cryptically.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that these smugglers have more resources than we suspected." Rhyce was right. It took some coin to get a wizard on retainer. It wasn’t something any trader with a wagon and a vivid imagination could afford.

"That's not what I was-" Oleander frowned a little when Rhyce once again evaded her questions.

"I know. Let's find out more about their business." He led them up to the main doors to the trading company. The best way to find out was to ask, after all.

It was easy to get someone to speak with, with it being an open trading house. The woman they got to see was very interested when Rhyce and Oleander began a tag-team web of deceit where they sought a transporter for their timber out of Oakborough and down the coast to Tier. The redhead went into an inspired lie about their burgeoning hardwood enterprise, drawing upon what she had heard while listening to the woodsmen speak growing up in a town like Tarad. Rhyce added just enough realism to the tale to make their increasingly excited target swallow it.

Delev & Orist Trading Company would, of course, be delighted to provide wagons to haul their quality hardwood all the way across the country, she assured them. The company had a lot of experience in the timber industry and long distance transport, as well as being able to make use of its business contacts around the world if Oleander desired to expand her trading further.

While the woman went on explaining some policies and finer contract points, Rhyce noticed how two hooded figures left the back rooms and crossed through the main business area on their way out of the house. One of them leaned heavily on the other.

Jaden resisted the urge to reach up and adjust herself. It was bad enough that she had to wear these unnecessarily thin and frilly clothes - even though Mirena assured her they were as plain as she could expect them to come - but they also were snug in ways she had never had clothes be before.

"How are you feeling?" The knight asked her fidgeting friend as they walked up the slight incline that separated the market district from the aristocrats' rise.

"I feel strangely naked, and this bodice thing pinches under my arms," Jaden said, looking miserable.

"You're wearing more than Oleander at the moment," Mirena smiled a little. The mystic had tried to recreate her normal wardrobe as faithfully as possible, given her circumstances. The leggings were tighter than her previous trousers, and the vest was cut differently to account for her bust and hips. Mirena felt that she looked a little like a south sea pirate, especially with her long black hair and that light tan.

"I'm getting a new mirage veil as soon as I can afford one," Jaden promised herself. "I look ridiculous now."

"Stop that," Mirena chided, gently slapping the other woman's hands away from picking at her clothes again. "You look very pretty, if a little exotic."

It was true. Whenever a man passed them on the street, his eyes went down to appreciate Jaden's legs. That was more than enough to send a flush of embarrassment to the mystic's cheeks.

"Well, I don't want pretty. I don't want any of this." Jaden felt like she was repeating herself, but how could she do anything else? She wasn't a woman. She didn't want to dress this way, and she surely wasn't going to act the part.

"We will help you in any way we can, Jaden. Wherever we find ourselves in the future, trust in that your friends will be there for you when you need us." Mirena reached out and squeezed Jaden's hand tight enough to make her point. One thing that had changed was that Jaden didn’t wear gloves anymore. "But right now, you have to put your own wants aside. We're pursuing a greater evil at the moment, and I need your help to do so."

"I... You're right, Rena. I'm sorry. I've not been myself lately," Jaden made a self-deprecating joke. That earned her another comforting squeeze.

The billboard was a large wood construction where notices and declarations were nailed up for the public to see. There was one in every district, and often told a little about what was going on in the area. It was also a favoured place for gossip and rumours to find fertile ground and flourish.

Mirena looked around, and immediately spotted a house shoulder to shoulder between two others of similar size. It was a little bigger than most of the normal homes in towns like Rosehaven, but going by noble standards it was most likely considered quite modest.

The knight took the lead and pulled the doorbell. Jaden noticed that Mirena was unconsciously adjusting her dress a little, smoothening some folds while they waited. She had to admit that the Tierwoman looked very nice. A subtle change in the knight’s bearing had changed her from supportive friend, to an elegant lady.

"Can I help you?" The servant answering the door was a local woman of about the same age as Mirena, with her Albander brown hair done up in a loose bun. Since this Arim wasn't a titled noble, his servants didn't wear any house colours.

"Hopefully. Arim extended an invitation to us. My name is Mirena, and this is my friend Jaden."

"Oh, milady! We weren't expecting you until tomorrow!" The servant looked both surprised and a little apologetic. "I shall see if my lord can see you."

"Thank you. Please let him know that something have come up, and we need to talk with him." Mirena smiled kindly.

"Of course, milady. Please wait in the sitting room," the slightly flushed servant showed them inside. The house was richly furnished, though sparsely decorated. Most of the paintings and artwork looked very old and inherited, giving the distinct impression that no woman has had much of an influence in the household. Mirena immediately had some ideas on what she would do differently, but sat down in the offered couch.

"Can I bring you any refreshments while you wait?"

"Thank you, no. We're fine." Mirena smiled, and then checked on Jaden who had been quiet the entire time. The elf-like mystic was sitting with her hands in her lap, but with her legs slightly apart. Mirena nudged her friend's ankle with the tip of her shoe.

"Hmm?" Jaden looked up with those uncannily golden eyes of hers, seemingly coming out of thoughts.

"Keep your knees together, or cross your legs," Mirena instructed.

Jaden glanced down, and sighed. Instead of sitting properly, she decided to stand up and paced the room a little while they waited. Her boots made a soft padding noise across the dark green carpet that almost looked like grass.

It didn't take Arim long to arrive, followed by the servant woman from before. He looked a little harried, and was shrugging into a jacket with her help. His face lit up when he saw Mirena sitting in her nice, everyday gown, and then gave Jaden a once over. To his credit, Arim didn’t let his eyes linger, but instead looked right back at Mirena.

"Milady. This is quite a surprise! While I'm elated in seeing you again so soon, Kari here said you had something to talk about?" His rich voice was only slightly out of breath.

"Yes, we were hoping you would be able to help us with a situation that's come up." Mirena returned his smile widely, and resisted the urge to get up and adjust his jacket. The servant woman, Kari, followed the knight’s glance and did it for her, however.

"Whatever I can do, I will. Who is your lovely friend?" Arim turned to the black-haired elf who was standing to the side with an expression of discomfort.

"This is my dear friend Jaden. H- she is the one who brought some of this to my attention. Is this room private?" Mirena shot her friend an apologetic glance. She had promised to treat Jaden as the man he was, but in mixed company that would be problematic. The knight hoped that he would forgive her this once.

"Aside for myself and my three servants, there's no one else here and I'm not expecting any other visitors today. Anything you'd like to say will stay within these walls. Kari?" Arim nodded at the woman, who bobbed a quick curtsy and closed the doors after she left.

Mirena met Jaden's eyes for a moment, and then launched into the speech she had prepared on their way here. They had agreed on avoiding specifics as long as possible, since they didn't want to drag Arim into a potential mess.

"You told me earlier today how your family had been in the trading business?" At Arim's nod she continued. "What can you tell us about the exotic goods trade between Sorun and Alband?"

"Well, let's see. I know that there is a healthy import of elven luxuries, like perfumes and artwork. Some of it continues on to Tier or Etria through our shipping routes, and from there to Radent and Charndion, respectively." He mentioned the larger capitals of the neighbouring countries and the island nation, all while glancing at Jaden. He probably tried to make the connection between them asking about Sorunese goods, and why there was an elf in his home.

"Standard practice," Mirena nodded, having grown up in a merchant house. "But what about the less, shall we say, official business?"

"A sad fact of tariffs and taxes is that it will drive the ingenuity of some traders to new heights. I'm not naive enough to believe that there's not a flourishing smugglers' market in the city, but I can't say I've ever had much opportunity - or desire - to get to know it better."

"But what about transportation?" Jaden spoke for the first time. "Despite how cleverly they avoid inspections or accounts, a travelling merchant will still have to move their goods, be it by wagon or by ship."

"True, lady Jade, was it? If you were to bring something from Ral Sona to Farcrest, you'd have to use the roads and probably pass through," Arim paused and looked upwards a little as he imagined the map of the continent. "Tarad for starters, then possibly Carrick Field, Tier, and Rosehaven before coming here. There are no doubt smaller forest trails some use, but if we're talking normal wagons they'd pretty much have to follow one of the established routes."

"I thought as much," Mirena agreed, taking a breath as she considered how to continue.

"If I knew more about what you're talking about, maybe I can be of more help? I fully admit that I'm not a merchant, and but a casual dilettante in the world of trading, but I can likely find someone wiser to ask - if only I have the right questions?" The Nobleman spread his hands in a partial shrug.

“You are right, Arim. We’ve not been as forthcoming as we should have been, and for that I am sorry. Let’s start this anew, shall we?” The knight exchanged a quick look with the mystic. They would have to put a little trust in this man, offer a little more. Another lesson from Mirena’s childhood — ‘the profits depend on the investment’.

“Of course. Now, since this will no doubt be a long conversation — and one I will greatly enjoy the company of — I will really need something to drink. Have you been offered anything? Wine? Tea?” Arim got up from where he had been sitting opposite of Mirena.

“Thank you. Tea would be nice, now that you say it. Jaden?” The knight looked over at her friend, who was still pensively leaning against the wall.

“That might be a good idea,” the mystic finally agreed, then remembered her manners. “Thank you, lord..?”

“Oh, please, call me Arim. We’re all friends here,” the nobleman smiled at the elf-like woman, and headed to the door.

“Kari? Please bring us tea for three, and any snacks we might have. Those almond things, unless I already ate them all?” Arim shrugged a little. When he was reading, he always liked to have something sweet.

“I believe there are some left that Tanild managed to hide from you, my lord,” Kari tilted her head in thought.

“Good! Oh, and ask Stroton to bring my maps and our old business ledgers to the sitting room. Probably some parchment and the writing set as well, come to think of it.” He added as an afterthought.

“As you wish, lord Tassard.” Kari curtsied and left to take care of her duties, but stopped when her employer called her again.

“Has there been any news about when my brother and his family will arrive, by the way?”

“None yet, my lord. I’m sure they’re just held up somewhere,” she offered a small smile. Her lord didn’t want to show it, but he was worried now that his older brother Baron Ariken was several days late.

Arim Tassard nodded his thanks, and turned back to the sitting room doors. He had guests to entertain, after all.

---

Random addition: In one chapter's comment in the last book, I made a vague reference to a map of the world of Aden (where this story takes place). It now strikes me that maybe there's some interest for readers to actually have a link to go see it. THUS! Link for maps! Shiny! Though, you'll have to scroll down a bit. And it's a general map. No details. I'm keeping the real one hidden for a while longer. So there!