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Chapter 17
For a long day, there was none better than an ice cold ale. And, for a day spent under the ceaseless voices of Ezabel and Dani, two ice cold ales. Leland knew better than to have any more than that. He was lucky to find any drink at all at this hour. As luck would have it, the proprietor of the Bar Cart had crossed his path. Or rather, Leland stepped his way on purpose and traded some coin for an extra hour of operation.
He went by the name Auben. There were two others that worked his tavern on wheels, but they had gone to bed not long after its original closing. A single panel opened off of the wagon’s left side. It locked tight, parallel the ground and served as the bar top on which Leland leaned. It was useful. In fact, the entire cart was. He had admitted as much when he found it.
“How’s it treating you? You’re the first Attendant we’ve ever had the pleasure of serving.”, Auben asked as he placed cleaned mugs upside down atop a crate.
“I wasn’t expecting to find a drink out here in the first place.”, Leland nodded. “It’s pretty damn good.”
“That’s what we’re here for! Booze on wheels. You won’t find another establishment quite like us. - We’re on our way to the capital. Looking to make a killing over there.”
“Set up shop in a nice neighborhood and I’d say you’ll do just fine.”, Leland took a sip. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it son, it’s on the house.”, Auben smiled. “It’s the least I can do for someone like you.”
“For the record, I told you that I was an Attendant to stop you from closing. Not for a free drink.”
“Hah, all the same, Leland. You can pay for the next couple of mugs you’ll be ordering.”
Leland had underestimated him. Auben looked aged and may have had quite the belly, but he spoke with a businessman’s wisdom. There were three more days of travel ahead. Three more days that the people of this particular camp were also looking to be a part of. While they were not all associated, there was an unspoken agreement among the wagons that most would travel together in the morning. Or, at the very least, within a healthy distance of one another. Thanks to the coming festivities, Gracewind was going to be a ripe feeding ground for all of them. - Auben was certain that this was not the last he would see of the Attendant. Especially considering the way Leland blunted his fatigue with ale. In any case, the two were content with the arrangement.
By now, most everyone had gone off to sleep. A small few had remained to keep watch, but they were distant and dispersed. It was quiet, the kind that waned slowly into a low insect hum when the fires wore out. Leland himself never really looked to sleep. They were far too close to other travelers and his instincts demanded that he stayed wary. There were not many that would dare make action against an Attendant. But then again, the luxury of his status remained back in Gracewind with his cloak. Without it, he was the same as all else here. Unknown and unimportant.
Overall, his caliber of caution was no more than that of a lazy weekend morning. The Windroad was used far too often. There was no reason to expect anything to happen on such a busy, main highway. - Having finished his ale, he leaned against the Bar Cart. It was then that the silence broke upon the steps of two individuals. Both were merchants, that much was clear from their dress, and from the fact that Leland had seen their faces much earlier.
Altogether, their composure was clumsy. Each held a hatchet as if for the first time and walked on without knowing quite how to swing it best. Still, there was genuine loathing in their faces, which looked clear towards another wagon. It had been closed and locked; its compartment was solid wood all around. Notably, it seemed worse off than the rest. It was far more weathered and less worthy of the road.
Leland followed them out of the corner of his eyes with his trademark, unconcerned gaze.
“What’s up with them?”, he asked without looking.
“Hm?”, Auben lifted his head, only to breathe out a sigh. “Those two had a little bit of a run in with the owner of that wagon earlier in the day. Didn’t think much of it until I saw that he was a saffire. - They tried to scare him off but he wasn’t having any of it. I don’t suppose those two appreciated being talked back to.”
“The saffire, is he in there right now?”
“No, he went into the woods some time ago. Looks like they’re about to take out their anger on his wagon though.”
The situation made sense in an instant. Of all those present, Leland was likely the first to read into it. Even as Auben explained it to him, there was already understanding in his eyes. Still, his hands remained in his pockets and his back slanted. - The merchants stepped closer to their quarry.
°°
“No, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. - It’s just that I’ve never met a saffire before.”, Ezabel explained.
“A-are you here to tell me to go away?”
“Why would I do that?”
Jiro tilted his head. At first, he was wrapped in anxiety, but Ezabel’s words had suddenly whisked that away. A wave of relief washed over him and his body eased with a quick breath. Ezabel, however, had not noticed any of it. Rather, she wondered at him. He was one of the blessed. Human, but far more uncommon. Her books told briefly about his kind; that saffires were born with a natural connection to the Echo. Its magic prolonged their lives and manifested as a vibrant blue upon their appearance; their hair and eyes marked them.
Every excerpt Ezabel had read concerning Jiro’s people had now raced around her head. And, she stared away as if he was an artifact to be studied. She had been painfully obvious. Jiro thought as much when he waved his hand for the second time. When she snapped out of her awe-filled trance, he continued.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“No, nothing. Nevermind! - What brings you out here?”
“Just being nosey.”, Ezabel chuckled. “This place is strangely peaceful, even though it’s all broken-down.”
“It’s certainly special!”
He pointed at the column beside them, on a section just under the torch. Upon it was an old script which neither of them could read. Yet, it denoted the tower’s origin with unquestionable accuracy.
“These are the remains of a saffire settlement, built in a time much older than anything we know.”
“Is that why you’ve come here?”
“Not exactly. I’m currently in the middle of a great pilgrimage!”, Jiro exclaimed. “Have you heard of the World Edges? No? Well, listen up!”
Jiro began to glow with enthusiasm, as if his lungs were ready to impart a hearty speech. Anyone else would have seen the slight mania in his eyes, but Ezabel lent two attentive ears out of raw interest. She did not realize it, but her mind had already surrendered itself to his impending story ever since he uttered the word ‘great’.
“They are sites where Ardyn’s connection to the Echo is strongest. There are seven spread throughout the realm, but my research tells me that there are even more than that!”, Jiro told with vigor. “I plan to visit each one, just as my people did long ago! - The Citadel square in Gracewind is the first stop on my list!”
He had yet to do much, but his voice was somehow triumphant in his explanation. Ezabel’s imagination was captured, nonetheless. Her hands squeezed and her feet nearly paced where she stood. The same as when Bastion used to read aloud a new tale.
“Is this place one of them?”, she looked around them.
“Not quite, but it is still fascinating. The Echo is strangely abundant here.”
“How can you tell? Can you see the Echo?”
“No, but there are other things I can see.”
At once, Jiro turned his gaze upon the splendor of white flowers that enveloped them. Their scent was suddenly strong in the air. And, their peculiar shape finally caught Ezabel’s notice. They were tall and had an unexpected fragility; a soft breeze might have taken their petals clean off without as much as a struggle. Still, they were brilliantly white. Not even the smallest speck of dirt soiled their beauty.
“The Sword Bell. It blooms only in places like this, where the Echo is dense and undisturbed. - I followed them here from the camp.”, Jiro added.
“This is the first I’ve seen of them. They’re beautiful.”
“They have the Echo to thank for that. Nothing natural to Ardyn could ever be as magnificent as something touched by its magic.”
“I wish we could see it. I’ve been told that it looks like the night sky.”
“A good way to describe it. But, I’d say it’s more akin to a wisp of fireflies. - It floats in all directions, slow and fast. And, where it collects the most, special things happen. Like this!”
At once, Jiro tossed a sealstone over to her. It flared with moonlight and seemed far more vivid than those she was accustomed to. But, his point was made. The marble rolled innocently in her palm once she caught it. Ironic, as its presence was wholly responsible for the largest shift in Ardyn’s way of life. It was just as Jiro described: all touched by the Echo was far more magnificent. A sealstone was a true manifestation of its magic. Pieces of the Echo that condensed in old places and became tangible to the senses.
“Stoves, faucets, lanterns, and the like. All made better thanks to that little rock. Then, there are the tools that would have never come to be without it - you’ve got landships, airships..”, Jiro began to yammer. But, his keenness remained true. “Sorry. My point is, the realm is beginning to take the Echo for granted. We should be honoring all that it has given us.”
He took a knee and let his backpack off one shoulder. From it, he retrieved another pouch. It jumbled very much like the first that had spilled prior. The reason for which was clear when he untied its mouth. Like the first, it bore a handful of sealstones. However, these were distinct as they bore no shine and no presence. Ezabel knew at once that they were all dry, exhausted of their magic and no more useful than a pebble. A sealstone’s magic was finite. As such, this was the end they were all fated for. - Jiro emptied the pouch and arranged the marbles neatly at the base of the pillar. He closed his eyes and bowed his head.
“How long have you studied all this?”, Ezabel asked.
“I haven’t exactly kept track..”, he paused. “..but, if I were to guess, I’d say about fifty years?”
“F-fifty years!? But, you look like you’re twenty!”
“You weren’t kidding were you? I’m really the first saffire you’ve ever met?”
“Why would I lie about that? - Then, is it true that you can live up to two hundred?”, she braced for an answer.
“Yup.”, he opened his eyes and nodded. “I’m sixty now.”
Apart from the Attendant Knights and the knightstone she held in Angoulet, this marked the first time she had encountered something straight out of her storybooks. Her emotions were a jumbled mess of joy, vindication, and nostalgia. Frankly, it was enough to coax a tear from her eye.
“So cool..”, she muttered.
“Hah.”, Jiro smiled happily. “You’re a breath of fresh air, Ezabel!”
°°
A significant piece of the night had gone when Ezabel and Jiro made their way back to the camp. They had spent most of it blabbering about their respective interests. So much so, that they hardly lent an ear to the other person. Still, they remained in good spirits when their footfalls sounded by the wagons. A cold wind spun down from the treetops and brushed against their faces. They knew then that it was time to rest. Even those that chose to serve as lookouts were dozing off in their seats.
“Best of luck on your journey, Jiro!”
“You as well, Ezabel. Do your best not to be overwhelmed when you get to Gracewind!”
He had made clear his intention of leaving the camp much earlier than most. He was not in a hurry. Rather, he simply could not hold back his excitement. Unlike Alm, the capital was so large that it was impossible to know everyone in it. So, they had to reason to believe that their paths would not cross again soon.
They split off towards their own camps, which stood on opposite ends of the clearing. Whereas Jiro entered his wagon without any delay, Ezabel stumbled into Leland. He had been standing a ways off from their fire, which by then had burned out. And, as they have always been, his hands idled in his pockets.
“Yo.”, he nodded. “Enjoy your hike?”
“Sorry, I got a little carried away. - This valley is so elegant.”
“I’m sure it is. But, I’m already your sponsor. Don’t make me your caretaker as well.”
“Right. Understood, captain!”, she saluted, though incorrectly.
Leland tilted his head and gestured to the wagon. Ezabel took to it and slipped under her sheets, where she finally exhaled a satisfying breath.
“We still have three more days of this.”, Leland tapped the wagon. “Get as much rest as you can, you’ll need it when we arrive at the capital.”
She lifted a thumb and threw the blanket over her face. - With that, Leland returned to his seat beside the pile of cinder. From his pack came a thin, smoking pipe which ignited by the courtesy of a sealstone embedded on its underside. He drew from it, scratched his brow, and muttered to himself:
“Long night.”
°°
Ezabel shed her blanket and leapt like a rabbit onto the center of the rug. Her fists balled and her feet paced in place with new spirit.
“The One-armed Knight was an Attendant!?”, she howled.
“Haha! He was! He wore the cloak and everything!”
Bastion nodded repeatedly and bore a wide smile, the kind that only came from warmth and innocence. Ezabel was practically leaning into him, hoping that he would go into detail. She always had the same look when she did so: Wide eyes and tight lips, all wrapped in a bundle of her signature fidgeting. But, that had all gone away when Bastion placed his hand atop her head.
“Are there any books about him?”, she asked.
“I’m afraid not, Ezabel.", he rustled her hair. “So, if you and your brother want to find him, you’ll have to start at the Citadel!”
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