Luna was no stranger to the idea of commerce, but she’d never been in a position where she could actually make her own purchases. The dream of Sitalii had come and gone on a tide of crimson red - an experience torn away from her by the Monstrum who’d stolen the station away right before her eyes.
The store’s warm, humid atmosphere smelled of wood, perfume and fabric softeners - a comfortable fragrance that served as an inspiring backdrop as she, Mara and Abraham wandered between the aisles of cloth to peruse the tailor’s wares.
She’d taken off her right glove to feel the incredible materials’ textures - from frothy towels to the smoothest of silken underwear, she was amazed to find such a vast selection.
For all her love for the technological wonders of the fabric-printers at home, she’d never felt anything quite like the materials under her fingertips, slightly reminiscent of the silkworm farms’ carapaces, but somehow far lighter and regularly spun than what the manufacturers could pump out.
“L-Luna…” Abraham whispered in a pained whine while staring at the object in Luna’s hands. Mara scoffed a berating: “You can’t pull that one off. Not with that ass and that chest.” Abraham ran a hand over his sweaty face as he watched Luna defiantly clench the daring, white underwear-suit in her hands. She raised an eyebrow to glare her red eyes unto the challenging Mara and met her with: “Right. Maybe it’d fit you better? I’m sure it’d help keep you warm at night… must get pretty cold when you’re all alone under the covers.” Abraham continued to sweat bullets despite standing in the line of fire of icy gazes and passive-aggressive comments.
When Mara raised her hand to cover her mouth and laugh, none could hear a hint of genuine bemusement in her tone.
“Oh, you - you’re so funny. Then again, you’ve had so long to develop that humor of yours - I bet he finds it hilarious. I mean, who wouldn’t want to share a bed with a snarky, old –funny– hag?”
“I-I’m g-gonna go find the… the clerk…” Abraham whined and disappeared further into the store, leaving the two valkyries to their defiant stalemate.
“You know, Mara, it sounds to me like you think you’d be a good fit for him. I’m sorry, but… I think you’d get along horribly.” Luna calmly folded the underwear back and lay it atop the shelf before turning to follow after Abraham.
Mara did her best not to reveal she had been taken aback by the goading and, with a scoff of displeasure, questioned: “Oh? Things were getting pretty steamy in Cadia before you showed up…” Luna froze, raised her gloved hand to whisper sideways through a gleeful, malicious grin.
“Thing is, little one… he’s got a two-hander. There’s no way you could pull it off - he’d be pretty miserable with just the one.” Mara’s jaw dropped. She froze and watched as the giggling Logoruum stepped after the mind-trickster with a demonstrative wave of both her hands.
“You did not just- get back here!”
Logan hadn’t said anything about not spending money on essentials - in fact, he’d been promising both his apprentices they’d get to handle supplies ‘when the opportunity arose’. And as they wandered from store to store, buying pastries and unnecessary trinkets, neither one of them stopped to ponder if Logan would have any complaints that they were quickly working their way through the bag of coins. Abraham had, at one point, questioned Luna whether it would be best to wait for his approval, but after having been reminded that it was better to get forgiveness than permission - certainly easier, he’d relented and joined in on the vicious spending.
But as the sun set on the tall walls, they inevitably found their way halfway up the tall hill at the center of the town, where a multi-storied house promised free beds, the best food in town and a lively cocktail-hour around the current time. Had it not been for Mara, they’d have all been lost as for the customs and ways of this world - something as simple as haggling was a farfetched idea for her two companions, but with the stalwart one-handed warrior in their midst, they felt confident that they had done their duty as Logan has ordered.
Stolen novel; please report.
As his apprentices got settled inside the evening’s hovel, Logan and Jarek took their time wandering the streets. To the Ghast, it was clear that Jarek had thoughts regarding the mysterious trade, but he’d yet to voice them - even after mulling for hours.
But as they wandered back down the darkening streets of Clement - searching for their companions, the elder of the pair finally mustered the courage to ask: “Logan… that thing… what are you going to use it for?”
Many eyes looked to the dark pair, but the passing pedestrians seemed as uninterested in staying anywhere near them as the pair were to be eavesdropped on.
Jarek continued: “You brought me to the trade for a reason. You wanted me to see it, so I’m assuming you expected me to ask.”
Logan bobbed his head agreeingly. “I hope you can forgive me for saying we’re similar in some ways, Jarek. You’ve read the Codex - you know the power of knowledge and the handicap of ignorance.” The older of the two was honored to be likened to one of the great Heroes of the Purge, but knew that with such a great commendation came a great responsibility. Though Logan wasn’t saying it outright, he was confiding in him to counsel.
The pair turned into an alleyway at Jarek’s behest - Mara’s presence was stronger that way and, fortunately, it left them with vantage points for the prying eyes of the populace.
Logan continued: “People seem to think I’m supposed to be able to kill Monstrum with guns and swords. I can in most cases, but I’m not a great fighter. I don’t have the mind-powers of the tricksters or the miraculists and I don’t have a pocketful of artillery to put out whenever I need it. Whenever I’ve been successful on the battlefield, it hasn’t been because I’ve been a good shot or because I’ve swung a sword well… it’s because I’ve used my knowledge against the enemy.” Jarek was one of the few who still lived the tale of having seen Commander Behemoth-Bane’s craft. He was a beast with blades and guns, but he was correct in assuming that his mind and tactics were his greatest strengths, by far.
Logan stopped, looked up and down the empty alleyway and leaned back against a building to question: “I try to learn and experiment whenever I can… do you understand what I’m saying?” Jarek once again felt honored and bowed his head as he took his place next to his hooded colleague.
“I think so. This… recent acquisition… you want to study it? I can’t imagine what you’d learn, but I wouldn’t dare to argue against you. You’ve got more experience fighting Them than anyone else in Cradle.” Logan wasn’t in agreement of the latter statement, but he appreciated the judgment-free atmosphere between the two warriors.
“This new threat - the one we found traces of in Cadia… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen nor heard of. And I can’t make sense of it, no matter how much I think about it, which means I’ve missed something basic - something no one’s ever explored before. Now, more than ever, I feel as if I need to understand them to fight them.”
Jarek had read the man’s Codex - he’d read many of the ancient journals of war, but discovering… experimenting… studying - these were all foreign ideas to him. But he did know one thing. That whatever Logan was planning on doing had him seek rare counsel - that this was, and was going to, bother him more than he was letting on.
“Logan… can I ask what you’re gonna do with that thing? And why me?” Logan leaned back against the wall and cracked his neck back and forth.
“Iris isn’t done with me and I’m not done with Iris. I’ll handle it. But on the off-chance, I need someone to know - someone to go on with this if I can’t. Everyone in Cradle seems terrified of knowing what the Monstrum is… but if we’re gonna kill that damn thing, we’ll need to know all we can. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Jarek had a vague, shallow understanding of what he was referring to. He had sent young boys to their deaths - he’d watched their ashes smoldering in service of Bravelle and Cradle… but he hadn’t ever considered something as dark as this request.
“Logan… are you suggest-”
“I’m sorry, Jarek. It’s an unfair ask, but this knowledge needs to exist. I’m not going to sit by and watch them dig their heads down in the sand anymore… if I have to call in a favor with you, I will. Just please consider it.” Logan stood back out from the wall and turned down the alleyway, pausing briefly as he heard Jarek sigh.
“For what it’s worth, I understand, Commander. I won’t like it. I’ll protest and fight you on this - I can’t even imagine what I’ll do once I see it… But I trust you. The Devils may take our souls, but we’ll be wiser for it.” Their solemn nods sealed their unholy contract as they rose up to journey along the dark alleyway - towards the lively tavern at the top of the hill.