July 2023 ver.

They had been staying in Marion for a couple days by this point. Phoebe had elaborated on some of emeran culture as promised, but Devin honestly wasn’t sure she understood what she was trying to convey. The fact that strength, usually physical strength, was a highly sought after trait was something their grandfather had spoken to them about before. The surface level of that was easy enough to understand. While the reasons were different, it was still the core component for how their father and aunt had found themselves estranged from their clans. But emotional and spiritual strength did have some value as well?

They also discussed how single mothers were common. Love didn’t always have space as producing and rearing off-spring were identified as vastly different things. Even if it did have space, a lot of planning went into how both parties should expect their relationship with each other and any children to progress.

Phoebe had also tried to explain the concept of ‘dead weight’, but Devin hadn’t been able to take it all in. Hands tangled into her hair. There were too many layers. Honestly she was finding herself thankful she was raised outside such a lifestyle. It sounded like always having to negotiate for your life instead of simply living it.

Devin continued down the stairs. Even if Phoebe’s meals were rather tasteless, they were filling, and she was enjoying being able to wake up to that something filling. She could smell the food and the smoke from the innkeeper’s pipe before she rounded the railing. Though she was surprised that only Avery and Phoebe were present. Both had already eaten apparently.

“Morning, Sunflower~!” They all knew it was already noon. Phoebe had gobbled up the teasing nickname from Rowan the instant she heard it. Devin filled a plate for herself before sitting.

Her face scrunched at the card in front of Avery, “Are those elven cards?” It wasn’t only emeran culture that Miss Phoebe was telling them about.

“Yup!” Her brother was a beaming ray of energy as usual at the prospect of learning.

Devin studied them a little harder, “Those are the ones with all the titled cards, right? What’re you playing?”

“Not playing in the traditional sense, darling. I thought Avery would enjoy learning about divination.” Pheebs’s lips and tail curled in such an endearing way. She had really taken a shine to both of them.

“Like fortune-telling?” Devin inquired.

“Mhm. Keep in mind I’m no expert myself, darling. I only have a vague understanding of the meaning of the suits and the numbers. I don’t know any of the Major Arcana at all, but we’re having fun making our own meanings.” She gave Avery a small squeeze and a grin before reclaiming her lax posture.

“A lot of fun!” Avery recollected the card he’d drawn, “We did a reading for you earlier.”

She displayed passive interest, “What did I get?”

“Uh, it was one of the queens. Swords? Staves?” He shrugged. “Sorry, I forgot. I’ve been doing them for everyone.”

“A queen, huh?” That was kind of neat to draw a high card, wasn’t it?

The boy suddenly added, “But it was reversed.”

“Reversed?” she asked.

Avery nodded, “Yeah, that usually means its bad.” He continued on like it was nothing.

Devin nearly choked on her meal, “But you can’t remember the meaning other than that!?”

Phoebe’s voice wafted over to calm her, “The cards only have as much weight as you give them. We’ve been doing it for fun more than anything else. He even did one for your family pet.”

He smiled in embarrassment. “Now that just leaves Rowan.” The boy shuffled the deck rather intensely then drew a single card from the top. They all leaned to peer at it.

Devin made the first comment, “A blindfolded emeran? I thought these were elven cards?” It was the eight of swords.

The innkeeper elaborated, “Some newer decks have a unique take with each suit having a correlation to one of the four sentient species as well. So all of the sword cards feature emerans. Swords correspond to wind which usually has to do with thought and communication.” She tapped her lips, “Hmm, I thought the number eight usually has to do with success and prosperity, but…” Devin understood why she had trailed off. A bound and blinded emeran woman jailed by eight swords. “This card seems fairly ominous to mean prosperity of intellect or communication.”

Her and Avery looked at each other, mirroring their incomprehension. He replaced the card in the deck. Devin finished her meal then sat back.

“Speaking of Rowan, where does he go all day?” A nail picked at her teeth.

“Hm? Oh, darling, he’s not told you?” She didn’t like the suggestive grin on Phoebe’s face.

It had her growing weary, she stopped her idle cleaning, “No? Why?”

She heaved another shrug and puffed her pipe, “He took you both around town a bit to shop, right? You could go see for yourself.”

Her eyes narrowed, “All right, tell me where.”

x x x

The teenager consulted the directions the older woman had given her one last time. She felt exposed standing at the edge of the busy street without Rowan or Avery. Nonetheless, she persevered to a large building. The establishment had a tall sign in the middle of the street people were narrowly missing.

‘The Blind Basilisk’? Was everything in this city named after an animal? Also wasn’t that the thing that’d nearly killed Rowan? The next line was written in a different script. There were some specials listed beneath that also alternated between words she could read and ones she couldn’t. All of them sounded kind of gross to her with each special featuring an insect. Even the most basic one ended with ‘served with roach bread’. At the very bottom was, ‘Performer / O K R A / All Week!’ Wasn’t okra a plant? She seemed to recall Avery being on about that one recently as one of many popular trade goods during their shopping spree.

She perused the building. It was huge for a single story. It had double doors that were propped open. A cacophony of noise spilled onto the street from it. Unlike Phoebe’s place, having one large window to the right of the door, there were instead four deliberate sections of wall each featuring a small, regular sized window. There was a slew of people lingering by them so she couldn’t really see inside.

Devin swallowed and looked to the strip of paper she was holding to see it was quivering. Her fur was slowly rising too. This place wasn’t empty like Phoebe’s. But she was starting to question if Rowan was really out hunting for leads. She straightened up and pushed herself forward.

Upon entering a yellow zefiil with brown spots hollered from the bar, “Welcome!” She jumped to her right then gave a very small wave. The bar took up nearly the entirety of the far wall which seemed an interesting choice. Most of the patrons at it weren’t facing the bartenders, but were angled to the right. Actually all of the tables and seats in here faced to the right. The reason was soon obvious as she laid eyes on a section of flooring at the end of the sea of tables about two feet higher than all the rest. A stage.

Her attention quickly moved again, some familiar brown hair having caught it. Even from behind it was unquestionably his. She started walking. He didn’t hear her approaching. Or, at the least, didn’t realize it was someone coming to his table. Devin stared down over his shoulder, crossing her arms. She bit a cheek as he started taking a swig out of a wooden mug.

“So this is where you’ve been?” Rowan spewed his drink back into the mug and coughed. The man turned to be greeted by her cold glare. “Have you really been sitting around here drinking all day?”

He wheezed, “D-Devin, what are you doing here?” His face was flushed in a painfully familiar way.

“What are you doing here?” She felt herself tensing. Fists balled up to resist the urge to throw him from his seat. “Years of watching grandpa struggle with this bullshit and you’re right here doing the same the second we’re not with you?”

“T-take it easy!” He held up his arms like he could protect himself from her tongue lashing by doing so. “Really, Devin, pubs are great for gossip and rumors. It’d look weird if I was sitting here with nothing in hand. And alcohol isn’t so bad in moderation.”

She didn’t let up, “Oh, is that so? If it’s so effective then perhaps you’d like to enlighten me on the leads you’ve come across so far?” While Devin wasn’t being particularly loud it was quite obvious by her tail whipping to and fro and the growl rising in her throat that she was furious with him. The closer tables took note.

“W-well, uh,” her cousin was squirming under her apparent seething rage, “I… haven’t heard anything relevant yet.”

“Drinking without permission from the Misses?”

They had been too engrossed in their exchange to notice two men arriving at the table. Her face was already red over someone butting into their business, but the fact they called her his misses. On top of that, when she lifted her gaze from Rowan, she saw they were topless. The girl flushed further.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Two young emeran men. Three amber eyes gleamed amusement, one having a mismatched blue eye. Both had somewhat long hair for males based on her experience. The slightly taller of the two with mismatched eyes was white haired with the left side shaved down to almost nothing. The other’s was a brownish red that was simply an unkempt mess. Their clothing seemed similar to Phoebe’s, but it was hard to tell with the garments in a heap at their waist barely being held up by some pleated pant wear. What was obvious, on the other hand, was the fact that emeran men had much leaner frames than the average human. Even Rowan had broader shoulders than them.

The red head sniffed, “Oh, I think they’re related. Wow, getting chewed out in public by your sister?” ‘Who the fuck are these two?’

Devin practically spat at them, “We’re not bothering anyone, unlike you, so why don’t you mind your own fucking business?”

The red-head recoiled with a, “Whoa-ho! You’ve got spunk for a half-breed.” Why did that comment make something in her snap?

The white-haired man draped an arm on Rowan’s shoulders, “Where have you been hiding her all this time? I like her.” Her cousin promptly shoved him off.

“Do you guys ever consider the option of not coming over here and being assholes?” He offered the suggestion to them with a single hand. His attention flicked between the two.

They both gave him a distrustful squint, but only the heterochromatic one spoke, “Yeah, well, we don’t like how often you come sniffing around.”

Devin had fingers tapping impatiently, “Rowan, who are these people?”

The white-haired answered, “Disan.”

“Cecil,” tacked on the red-haired.

“Well, Disan, Cecil,” she navigated around the table and looked at each as she said their names, “I’m Devin and I’d like to kindly ask you to fuck off. It’s a public space. If you don’t like him in it then talk to the owner. Unless… you don’t have a legitimate complaint to have him removed, do you?”

Cecil’s turn to blush, “Hey! We have plenty of reason to want him gone! We know why he’s always showing up where we do and Okra deserves better than a mix breed.”

Rowan muttered something about this giving him a headache from sheer stupidity.

Devin lunged a step at them, “And what exactly is wrong with a mix breed!?” Her demand was loud enough to draw the attention of the entire bar.

Cecil slammed a foot back at her, practically shoving his face into hers, “They’re weak.” They both sneered. Two perfect reflections of disgust.

Her tone dipped even lower, “Maybe you’d like a demonstration of just how ‘weak’ I am?”

He didn’t budge despite the hell fire burning in her eyes. All of the chatter had stopped. Everyone was watching them stare each other down.

Some guy bellowed, “Fight!”

“Yeeeeaaah! FIGHT!” Instantaneously, the bar was in an uproar with all the patrons dragging tables off to the sides no matter how cramped it made their seats. In a matter of seconds there was a decent amount of open space directly in front of the stage. Once the squeal of table legs subsided the steady chant began, “Fight, fight, fight!”

She faltered slightly, the entire pub was invested in this now!?

“Aw, is the little house cat scared?” He grinned like he’d already won. Devin had to bottle her anger before she socked him a mere inch from Rowan. They didn’t need to end up wrestling on the table. She collected herself and briskly walked to the center of their constructed battleground. The girl swept her hair up from her face, catching it on her ears, and waited.

Cecil slowly joined her, standing only a couple paces away, “Can’t come up with any cute comebacks now, can you?” He really was a shiny new level of arrogant she hadn’t seen before, wasn’t he? Devin snapped to form and slammed her right fist into his jaw. Her ring broke the skin. The impact sent him stumbling backward until he half fell onto the stage.

“Ooooh!” The patrons in here were awfully vocal.

He touched at the blood gathering, looked at his fingers, then snarled at her, “Cunt!” Cecil threw himself into range and rather sloppily went to slug her. Too angry to think about how he was smoke signaling the move to her long before it got close. Devin ducked and slammed her entire forearm into his midsection. The man went reeling again, holding his abdomen.

“Maybe you should spend a little less time running your mouth?” Though maybe she shouldn’t have supplied the suggestion as after an irritated snort he finally took up a proper stance.

They circled each other. He threw for her face, but she was able to interject and shove the attack off course. His fist sailed into the empty space beside her head. She jabbed at his abdomen making a solid connection. Her ring dug into him for the second time. But Cecil was ready, staying planted this time, lurching forward, and latching onto the top of her arm. He jerked her forward by the limb. His full strength caught her off guard, destroying her balance.

Devin stumbled forward. His arm hooked her by the neck. Within a heartbeat, he curled her in by it. Her back was slammed to his chest. The limb slowly cut off the circulation to her head. It only took seconds to pass out in a position like this. “You shouldn’t fight someone stronger no matter how skilled you think you are!” He scolded her like a child directly into her ear. “Now tap!” Spots darted in her vision. The pressure was getting to her quickly.

A new fire lit inside her. It wasn’t going to be that easy to beat her. She clutched his arm at the wrist and near the elbow. The girl gritted her teeth, bent her knees, and summoned all the strength she had. “What!?” Cecil yelped the word as she rolled him over her shoulder faster than he could blink. His body was flipped and thrown to the ground.

Devin quickly twisted her arm around his. His elbow was locked into an open position. Her knee came to his throat and she leveraged the pressure of the two moves against each other. She didn’t say anything yet, merely scowled with an icy expression. He pushed at her knee with his free hand, but he simply had no idea what to do in this sort of situation. She panted. “Remind me, who’s the weak one between us again?” All he could muster was a strangled noise. Then he tapped twice on her thigh.

She relented and left Cecil to gasp and sputter on the floor.

“You kicked his ass!”

“Wooooo!”

“Don’t fuck with that chick!”

The room filled with cheers and applause.

“Lotta good all that muscle did ya, kid!” Cecil cast a glare off into the crowd then just went on with rubbing his neck where her knee had been. She learned something else about full-blooded emeran bodies with him slumped over on his hands and knees. There was a faint trail of red along his spine. It thickened as it reached his neck and below at what she presumed was the top of his tail. They had more fur. Weird.

He stood after his breathing evened. When Cecil looked at her this time, it made her more uncomfortable than before. His face was flushed and he was barely making eye contact from the corners. “All right. You made your point. You’re stronger than I gave you credit for. I can admit when I’m wrong.” The young man averted from her again.

That was that then, wasn’t it? Devin found where Rowan was still sitting. He looked begrudgingly proud so she smiled and headed over. She heard the same voice that had greeted her at entry calling to the occupants, “All right, all right, it was a good side show everyone, but let’s get things back where they go for the main event!”

The other emeran was still standing in the same spot too, but she only caught the tail end of what he was asking that had her cousin instantly pissed, “-is your sister?”

The mage snapped at Disan, “She’s my cousin and why are you asking that?” The emeran male inched out of her way, also becoming flustered as she passed.

“Um, can we go? I’m pretty sure half of the room is still staring at me.” But before Rowan could say anything they were interrupted yet again.

“D-don’t go. You’ve never heard Okra sing before, right?” Cecil had followed her apparently. “She’s really good.”

“Okra?” Her head tilted, “Sing?” Her head tilted further. Oh. Oh it all made sense now. “Then that’s why you’re really here, right?” She aimed the question at Rowan.

He rubbed at the back of his neck, “Well, y-yeah. She’s incredibly talented. I’m sorry. I’ve been letting it distract me. We were in town anyway and I can at least sort of chat around for gossip still before she performs so… I should have told you and Avery, but I guess I thought you’d think less of me. For some stupid reason. Because it’s like I can’t stay focused on my own goals after dragging you out here or something.”

Devin pulled out the chair next to him, “It’s okay to take time for things you enjoy.” And for about half a second they shared a nice moment of knowing each other a little better.

Her ear twisted at the sound of more chairs. She turned to see Disan and Cecil had invited themselves to sit at their table. One of them literally had to pull from another since theirs was only fit for three.

“Um,” she stared dully and flatly asked, “Do you mind?”

Their gazes slipped from her once more, “We- we uh, we have to make sure Stalker over there doesn’t pull something.”

“Uhh…” Devin reverted to Rowan with a questioning expression, “Have you tried something before? A-are… are you stalking her?”

“What!?” It’d been a while since she heard such a high pitch from him. “Have I already wrecked your opinion of me so bad you’d just believe them?” He was clearly alarmed she was so willing to buy it without any evidence.

The girl leaned away from her cousin, “Rowan, you know that’s not an answer, right?”

“No, I’m not stalking her! I’ve never even talked to her. That’d be weird! She’s a performer that I enjoy. End story.” He cut the air with palm down. “I’ve only followed them cross locales maybe twice when she announced it at the end of her set and I didn’t have any leads. Which is the entire point of her telling people her next venue.”

She wanted to believe him, but he had a habit of surprising her in a bad way when it came to women. “Okay… answer one question for me then… what inn is she staying at?”

“How would I know!? I go back to Pheebs’s after the set, before her and her guards over there leave.”

“Okay, I believe you. You’re not stalking her then.”

He slunk his face into crossed arms on the tabletop and grumbled, “I’m not that perverted…”

Devin was looking around the room, wondering where this woman even was. Then she noticed that one wall wasn’t entirely flush. There was a little room carved out of the main one with a pretty solid looking door. So she was probably prepping in there.

“Your name is Devin then?” Both Cecil and Disan were waiting expectantly for a reply.

She wasn’t even sure which one asked since she hadn’t been paying them any mind for a minute, “Y-yes? Devin Chanoix.”

“How’s come you’ve never come in with Stalker before?” Cecil acted as if he didn’t really care what the answer was.

Rowan retorted behind her, “Not a stalker. I feel I explained that very clearly!”

Devin pulled into herself and watched her thumbs dance circles around each other, “Well, I finally asked our grandfather if it would be okay if I started traveling with Rowan. There’s not much else to it.”

Disan’s ears twitched, he couldn’t feign lack of interest now, “Your grandfather? Not your mother?”

“Eh? Well, yeah. Our parents are dead.”

This elicited a flinch from the boys, “Oh. S-sorry.” Cecil was refusing eye contact again, but didn’t give up, “Okra and I didn’t know our dads growing up, but that’s not really the same.”

This changed their dynamic in her head, “You’re not just a guard then? You’ve known her since you were kids?”

“Yeah! All of us have been best friends for ages!” Cecil was enthusiastic to share that with her.

Disan chimed in, “We’re actually all the same age, even, 18. Give or take a few months, of course.”

“How, uh, how old are you?”

A hand planted over her mouth, her eyes slid over to Rowan, who instructed “Don’t answer that. Also…” He nodded at the door which had cracked open. He removed his hand and the anticipation climbed. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t what came out of that room.

Her hair was a platinum blonde much like Phoebe’s, but unlike hers it was styled more asymmetrically and not as long. The right side above and behind her ear held two tight braids that were directly along the scalp. The rest was left loose. Wavy and fluffy. Her clothing was not at all like Disan’s, Cecil’s, or Phoebe’s. There was almost nothing to her dress. It was white and strapless with a high waist. The center of it however was hacked out to have a strip of golden fabric. Despite the golden portion being slightly shorter than the white, both roughly started at the same place and ended just above her knee. No accessories. No shoes.

The lack of clothing showed that her body was covered in intricate gold designs of swirls, circles, and crescents. It painted her lips as well. That and the dramatic eye-shadow were the key to the entire ensemble, pulling the attention to her face.

She brought her hands in front of her chest, hooking the fingers of one hand into the other, her lips fell open, and her voice washed over them.