“Must you sharpen your blades so early in the morning?” Alden’s sulky voice echoed through the Edgewoods. Dark circles dragged his eyes with heavy drowsiness. He twisted his spine until there were popping sounds. “It’s a miracle how you two slept so soundly against a rock. You two must have been mountain folk in your past life.”
Leor rolled his eyes and shushed his privileged client as he continued to lead them through the damp thickets. He had slept in that bed for years. Surely, one night isn’t as bad as Alden made it sound.
“Lord Alden! Mind your tongue. That was Leor’s home once and you’re speaking ill of it to his face.” Ceri said.
Leor watched her wring out her clothes. When they had awoken, he had guided them deeper into the cave, eventually leading to a narrow path lining the inside of the grand waterfall. It was common for the rushing water to bounce off the walls and drench those who walk the hidden path, a small price to pay for a private shortcut across the Edgewoods.
Alden cocked his head and thought. “Leor?”, he echoed. “Since when did you drop his title?”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. She averted his gaze, looking everywhere but Alden’s direction, though it did little to hide her emotions from him. He grinned at his apprentice. Leor, on the other hand, was unfazed by his remark. He kept his gaze frosty and unyielding like the ancient oaks of the Edgewoods. He would not allow last night or taunts to sway his focus.
“It was I who told her to cease the formalities,” Leor said, pushing aside branches to make way. “It holds no meaning to me, but never mind that. We’re just about here.”
Standing in the shades of the forest grove, they could hear the muffled clamor of Logtown’s marketplace behind the thick, beige walls that protect the midpoint of the Houses of Tridon. The walls towered over the traveling merchant tents, the stone storehouses, and all the timbered and stoned buildings within them, all except for two: the famous United Church of Tridon at the center and the Tridon Bell Tower to the north. From afar, the church’s coned towers resembled the spikes of a crown, while the three insignias of the Houses of Tridon, the Bolt of Ouranós, the Rays of the Licht Order, and the Dancing Serpents of Hydrian, encompassed the surface of the bell.
“Ah ~ Logtown. We arrived surprisingly fast on foot. I thought it was much further,” Alden said.
“Don’t be too pleased. We were supposed to be here yesterday.” Leor replied. He pointed to the right. A guard post stood as a sentinel at the eastern gate, ushering people in small packs, just as he predicted in his dream. “Look there, the Stallions are expecting us.”
“How do you suppose we enter?” Ceri asked from his side, thinking. “And why are Thalesian guards chasing us at such a distance from their city?”
“I do not know,” Leor said, knowing full well Afzal must have mentioned his name to the Stallions. “Give me a moment to come up with a plan.”
He wished his dream would’ve given him that answer as well, but he did not relish the thought for too long. Based on the number of guards standing at the outpost, most of their forces must be within the walls. They could attempt blending with the crowd. . . No, that would be far too risky. They’d recognize his face and the blood on Ceri’s cloak. No doubt they’d stop them for that. Perhaps one of the side gates? He could try bribing the guards, but would they take the gold of a Purblight?”
“Leor,” Ceri whispered, shaking his shoulder, but he brushed her hand away, not wanting to be disturbed mid-thought.
Before he knew it, he started thinking aloud. “And what about Yoru? Undoubtedly, the townsfolk would drop dead at the sight of him.”
Ceri shook his injured shoulder, sending a sharp bullet through him. “Leor!”
“W-what?” he winced.
“Lord Alden has gone off on his own”. She guided his eyes with her finger. Alden stood at the base of the wall, gesturing them over.
“What is he doing!?” Leor darted forward, equipping his hood. Ceri did the same and followed behind with Yoru in her arms. He redirected his question at Alden. “What are you doing!?” he said in the loudest whisper he could muster.
“Seeking help,” Alden said with a proud smile. He pointed at the guard standing at one of the many miniature gates along Logtown’s walls. “I noticed one of my good friends was posted at this gate, so I asked her for a favor.” As if listening to their murmurs, the guard waved at them with a willful grin.
Heat rushed to Leor’s face and seeped through his pores. “It matters not that you asked for a favor from a ‘friend’. You could have been kidnapped or have given us away to the Stallions. What did I tell you at Thalesia? You need to listen to me and lay low. How do you know the guard won’t call the Stallions to trap us within the city?”
Alden placed his hand on Leor’s shoulder. “Fear not, my friend. I’ve known this one since she was young. I know her mother and father. She will not turn her back to us.” Alden smiled and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze before heading off to greet the female guard.
Leor clenched his fist. It was lucky for Alden to recognize his friend. He’s grateful for the easy admission but is it so hard to understand how irrational his actions were? He couldn’t help but wonder when their luck would run out.
Noticing the anger in his hands, Ceri caressed them with tender strokes. “Leor, I apologize for Lord Alden, but he truly means well. I’ve known him for many years and he’s not as big of a fool as he is rash. Let us put our faith in him, shall we?”
The heat within him cooled at her touch, but he could not find the words to respond. All he could do was follow after Alden with Ceri by his side.
“Lord Alden’s companion and Ceri! It’s so good to see you after so long,” said the guard as they approached. Her voice was as green as her looks, about twenty years of age, the same as Ceri. Leor could tell she was fresh blood by the lack of steel in her voice that many guards and mercenaries carried. She crossed her chest with her hand and placed it over her heart, covering the Ouranós sigil on her breastplate, and bowed. Her bounded dark oak hair flowed over her shoulder, dying to a dainty bronze in the sunlight.
Alden rested his hand on her shoulder. “How many times must I tell you? You can refer to me as uncle. We know each other well enough, Marie”.
“Oh, no, I cannot, my lord. It would go against my teachings.”
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“Forget the teachings!” Alden said with a frown. “It’d be more disrespectful for you to address me as a stranger”.
With an unsure smile, she addressed him as he asked and turned to Ceri. “Ceri, how have you been? It’s been three years, hasn’t it? You look as pretty as ever.” She turned to the black creature in her arms with raised brows. “And what do we have here?”
“You’re far too kind, Marie,” Ceri said as she lowered her head. “His name is Yoru and he’s a sweet little thing. You may pet him if you wish”. Initially, Leor was worried about what Ceri might have said, but Marie simply nodded and gave the wolfling a petting. “I’ve been well. I still try to keep the coin purse away from Lord Alden”. The two shared a brief giggle as if recollecting the same memory. “How’s your mother?”
Marie placed her hands on her hips and sighed. “As strict as always. Even more so recently with all the refugees flooding the streets and the Syvernia Liberation Festival starting tonight.”
Ceri’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “Oh! That’s tonight? Lords, forgive my forgetfulness. Being in the Edge —”
Leor tugged on her garbs. Don’t tell her about yesterday, he told her with his eyes. Alden seemed to notice his cue and changed the subject matter. “Speaking of the festival, it happens yearly, does it not? Why does your mother struggle with it this time? The years finally caught up with her?” His voice oozed with sarcasm.
“Best not let her hear your words,” Marie laughed. “For some reason, we have a lot more visitors coming from all over Syvernia. I’ve never seen so many people from the other realms gathered in the city. It’s quite exciting!” She glanced at Leor and leaned over to Ceri’s ear. “By the way, your friend has been quiet all this time. Does he not speak?”
Leor heard her as clear as day. He had refrained from talking in fear of giving a stranger any more information, but he could not stand the jab at his pride. “Yes, I speak. I simply have chosen not to”. He turned to Alden. “We should hurry inside. Daylight’s burning”.
“Oh”. It was then, Alden remembered time was not their ally. “We’ll be heading in now”. He ruffled her hair, treating her like a child. “Thank you for everything, Marie. I take it your mother is at the church? I will let her know what you’ve done for me.”
Marie bowed and smiled as she returned. “It is my pleasure, Uncle Alden.”
With farewells said, the party entered Logtown.
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The marketplace occupied a large portion of the eastern corner of Logtown. Merchant tents and stalls and storefronts filled the vast area, creating a maze of shops selling exotic food from foreign lands, trinkets never seen before by locals, and the occasional overpriced “artifacts” swindlers try to pass off as genuine goods. From the cracks between buildings, Leor and his party watched a sea of people swarm the streets with food and goods in hand and carefree smiles on their faces. The smell of the sizzling meat teased his nostrils and sent a grumbling reminder to his stomach.
As he observed the crowd, what Marie had said was true, though she had slightly exaggerated. There were only some that bore fabrics he had never seen before. Some wore light and flowing sleeveless garbs, showing more skin than those who live in Tridon; their sun-kissed skin naturally glistened in the summer heat. The same cannot be said for the others who held their thick furs at their waist as they fanned themselves desperately with their snow-white hands, trying not to melt under the sun.
He turned to Ceri and Alden and looked at them with a hard stare. “Alright, no more running off. Got it, Alden?” His voice was stern and forceful. Alden smiled and nodded, but did he truly understand his words? “We can use the crowd to move through the city. It’s fortunate for us that so many have gathered for the festival. We’ll need to gather supplies and a new cloak for Ceri to cover up her bloody robes.” Yoru stared at him with curious eyes. “And, we need one for him as well.”
“We’ll also need to head to the church to give greetings,” Alden added with a stony voice.
“We can’t. There’ll be many guards there. We will surely be caught.” Leor said. That was only part of the reason for his dismissal. The other part was his dismay for the church itself.
“You cannot expect a Pontiff to not stop by the church in a passing settlement, can you?” Alden’s tone still carried stone but had a hint of jesting.
What he claimed was true; Leor could not doubt that. If he were to push further, he feared giving himself away. Reluctantly, Leor nodded. “You’re right. Shall we head to the church first?” He noticed Ceri crouching over, gripping her stomach, reminding him of the sharp pain in his own. “Perhaps food is in order?”
Ceri shot up at his words with eyes filled with reflections of food. “Yes, please!”
Leor stroked his chin as he thought of where to fill their bellies. During his deep thought, voices from passing travelers echoed their claims of delicious grilled meats from the northeastern lands of Yonchin, the country of flames. Thoughts of the tender and juicy meat tickled his taste buds till he could stand it no longer and followed the crowds’ whispers of the fabled Yonchin delicacy. Ceri and Alden looked at each other and shrugged, following after him. They flowed through the river of people until they reached a sudden halt. When they peered over the shoulders over those in front, they saw a stage with a large wok atop a stone stove in the middle of an open space surrounded by countless people, waiting for something to start.
Leor had only been to Logtown a few times, but he had never seen this before. The look on Ceri and Alden’s faces spoke the same feeling. Was there to be a bout? Or performance of sorts? It was then, the crowd burst into a roar of cheer. Their eyes glued to the stage and a woman in a sleeveless dress that hugged her curvaceous torso but draped over her legs to her ankles stepped before the crowd. There was a slit in her dress, revealing the side of her supple thigh. The cheers fell silent as quickly as it came to her crimson eyes. It felt as though Leor was being pulled into her enticing gaze.
With the snap of her fingers, a group of men rushed to her aid. Four carried a large table capable of seating twenty men and placed it before her. Another handed her two pins that she used to twirl her luscious black hair into a bun. Every movement she made was gracious and delicate but filled with precise practice, almost like a performance in itself. The same four men came back out and lugged an enormous slab of meat onto the table. It was about four times the size of the woman and could feed a small village for days, Leor imagined. Then, two other women came out and paraded to the black-haired beauty, each carrying a sheathed weapon. They bowed before handing it to her and walked off the stage with as much grace as they entered with. Slowly. One foot in front of the other as if allowing the men to appreciate their elegance for moments longer.
The woman stood silently alone on stage with her eyes shut and sheathed blades in a single grip. Upon closer inspection, Leor was hit with disbelief. They were similar to his own. He had to grab the hilts to check if his blades were still on his person. He had never met anyone in Tridon that carried the same steel as him. An empty heaviness filled his chest as he watched her unsheath the blades from their scabbard with a single flow of her hand like she were stroking a paintbrush across a canvas.
She angled her chest away from the slab and shifted her weight back, lifting both tools to overhead. She snapped her eyes open and slashed the blades horizontal across the meat, splitting it into thirds, then sliced back. The thirds now into fifths. The cuts were so precise and fast that the meat had not realized it had been cut and sat still through the motions. Then, she slid the flats of her swords underneath and flung the five layers high into the air. With a leap, she chased after them. The crowd stretched their necks to follow her movements, but in the blink of an eye, the meat erupted into bite-sized cubes. The woman whistled and a phoenix rose from the flames beneath the wok and seared the raining meat in an instant, falling into the sizzling pan. She landed effortlessly on her heels and sheathed her weapons. The crowd exploded with howls and whistles. Leor wasn’t sure if they were for the show or her, but one thing was clear: she was no chef. Her airborne movements were invisible to the untrained eye, but Leor saw everything. The speed and technique she used to dice the meat were not meant for simply carving the flesh of food, but the flesh of man. She was like a whirlwind of thorned flowers fluttering in the air. It sent chills down his spine and a smile to his face.
When Leor came to, the woman was gone. One of the women who handed her her swords took her place and screamed at the top of her lungs, “Come and try Yojin-style Azura Flame Charred Pork!”
The crowd blitzed forth, nearly knocking Ceri over. Leor grabbed her hand and pulled her close, shielding her from the horde. He looked at her with regret. “I suppose we won’t be trying the Yojin Pork anytime soon. Embarrassed, she nodded as she clung close to his chest. Leor looked over to Alden. “You don’t suppose you could use your Pontiff powers to snag us some?”
Alden looked confused. “If I were to use the powers the church has given me, the point of this journey would be meaningless, would it not?”