Chapter 32 — Gateway
Mocking. That’s what it was doing.
The Easruth River was mocking her as it just flowed along at a constant, inevitable pace. It didn’t have to wait in a long queue of travelers to get into the city; it didn’t have to cover its mouth with a scarf because of the flatulent oxen ahead of it; and the river certainly didn’t have to block out the shrill cries of a baby, unimpressed by its mother’s ministrations. No, the river and the occasional barge sailing atop it just waltzed into the city through the large passage in the wall that was made just for them.
For the hundredth time Rína’s eyes rose, and rose, and rose, all the way to the top of the massive walls that spanned the width of the river valley. She had first seen them hours ago, and back then—in those innocent times of yore—they were a welcoming sight, telling her that she and Yvette had finally arrived. But now… Now they only served to jealously guard what lay beyond them, making the time Rína had to wait in line feel longer than the months it had taken her and her aunt to get there.
According to some of the chatter Rína had overheard from her fellow inmates, the wait time was longer than usual, owing to the fact of what day it was and people from all around converging on the city to celebrate. This tidbit of information did little to placate Rína, in fact it just raised her ire even higher as she understood the full extent of what the walls were keeping from her.
Regardless, the eons passed as Rína occupied herself with a bit of kinesis practice. As it was her turn to pretend to be the wagon’s driver, she couldn’t do anything too overt, but that ultimately wasn’t a problem. As she sat with one hand on the reins, she kept her other hand in her pocket with her fingers closed in a loose cage around a single blueberry. Once again the aim was levitation, preventing the blueberry from touching her palm or fingers. It was simple enough in concept but, especially since she couldn’t actually see her target, the execution was significantly harder. However, as the berry had quite a lot less mass than a throw pillow, she needed that much less aether and could practice for longer before the buildup of blight got too much.
In the end her practice—and incarceration—came to an end as the wagon reached the front of the queue. Before her was a gatehouse bedecked in flowers, colorful ribbons, and tinsel of what had to be fool’s platinum. It wasn’t the only such entrance to the city but it was certainly the closest, being the terminus of the road that ran parallel to the Easruth.
“Welcome to Westreach. Do you have any bulk cargo or other mercantile goods to declare?” Droned the foremost guard. He and his fellows wore simple leather armor decorated in a fashion similar to the gatehouse behind them. But despite the festive accoutrement, none of the holiday cheer seemed to reach their eyes—a fact probably owing to the fact that they were stuck with guard duty today of all days.
“Hey, happy Sharad,” Rína waved a greeting, “And no, we’re just traveling healers—no cargo or any of that stuff.”
“None at all?” The guard asked, skepticism plain on his face as he eyed the massive wagon.
“No? It’s just living quarters in there.”
The guard looked unconvinced, but after sparing a glance at the long queue of carts and foot traffic, he gave a dismissive shrug, “Whatever—I’ll just be needing the gate fee and you can head on through.”
“Oh, uh, sure thing,” Rína said, reaching for her coin purse, “How much is it?”
Her whole body flinched as the guard quoted the amount.
She’d known in theory that things would get more expensive the closer to the big city they got, but she still wasn’t quite prepared for it. Looking into her purse, she soon realized that she needn’t bother counting out any coinage as just the entry fee alone was nearly all their savings—or rather, her savings as it had literally been more than a century since her aunt bothered carrying any money.
But even calling it ‘savings’ was a bit of a misnomer as up to this point their monetary expenses were practically zero. Most of what they needed day to day, Yvette could just configure the wagon to grow, with the only real cost being the biomass and calories that they could source from just about anything. And on the rare occasion the wagon was low on something like iron, well more often than not the locals of whatever village they were passing through were more than happy to just give them what they needed for free—typically after receiving healing just as freely. Hells, there were even a few times when Rína donated medical supplies that the local healer refused to accept without compensating Rína at least a little.
Between that trickle of income and her savings she had fled Leighton with, they had what Rína had thought was a fair bit of cash on hand, but obviously the local inflation had been creeping up on them in the last few weeks.
And now at the city gates, it was the first real time that Rína had to pay for anything since leaving Leighton as she and her aunt had generally been avoiding the larger towns—places where gate fees happened to be a lot more common.
«Aaaaaand we’re broke.» Rína wrote to her aunt as she paid the guard.
«Oh?» Yvette replied from within the wagon, «Well hopefully we will be leaving within the day so it should not be an issue.»
«Yeah, fingers crossed,» Rína sighed as the wagon passed through the gatehouse, «Although… I mean, we could also try to stay a little longer, you know?»
«Perhaps, but is there something specific you wanted to do while we are here?»
«Oh, maybe just one or two things…»
Pandemonium met Rína as the wagon entered the city. It was only the early morning and yet more people than she had even seen at once were crowding the streets. All of them were rushing and shouting this way and that, churning like white water rapids among the countless carts and rickshaws that dominated the wide thoroughfares.
It was an immediate sensory overload even before factoring in the Sharad festivities, and Rína had never been more appreciative of her aunt for being the one to actually control the ox puppets.
Not having to pay attention to the road, Rína shamelessly gawked at temporary stalls peddling everything from nick-nacks that were ‘priceless artifacts from Territh’s Age’ to ordinary scented candles made of ‘mystical lowland herbs’ guaranteed to cure illness. And from her perch atop the wagon, Rína was treated to one miniature performance after another as street performers ranging from small bands of musicians to jugglers to sketch artists to acrobats and more all filled the corners of the main street into the city.
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Sharad itself allegedly dated back a few millennia, though exactly what it was originally meant to celebrate and with what traditions, Rína had no idea. Some of the iconography like tinsel and flower decorations seemed to have survived the ages, but nowadays Sharad was ultimately just an excuse for people to cut loose after what could frequently be some pretty brutal winters. And after all, what better way was there to usher in spring than with a giant party that most people wouldn’t be able to remember in the morning?
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«I will be back as soon as I can. Hopefully the local homestead records will be both easy to access and will point towards a suitable place for us to settle back down.» Yvette wrote, «In the meantime, keep up the kinesis practice, and do not open the door for anyone.»
«Uh, what?» Her niece shot her a challenging look from across the small breakfast table, «I won’t exactly be able to answer the door while I’m out in the city.»
«You intend to venture into an unknown city all alone?» Yvette frowned, «And amidst a crush of strangers during some hectic festival?»
«Uh, yeah?» Rína wrote, «I mean, the ‘hectic festival’ is most of the appeal. And folks are usually pretty decent; if I get lost I can just ask for directions.»
Yvette gulped as she eyed the wagon’s portal into that press of bodies and predatory eyes. She knew all too well how easily one could disappear—or rather, be disappeared—in a city such as this.
“Please don’t.” Yvette said aloud.
Rína quirked an eyebrow as her defiance softened to one of concern.
“I…” Yvette began, struggling to find the words that would not be immediately discounted, «I believed that Nameless was sufficiently safe, that I would not need to worry for you there.» Yvette wrote, leaving the rest unsaid as she pointedly broke eye contact. And with a slight flick of her eyes, Yvette motioned to the burn scar dominating the side of her niece’s jaw and neck.
“Oh…” Rína trailed off, «Well, it’s not like they'd let a small army of bandits just wander around the city. And with proper guards and tons of people everyone, I’ll probably be safer than I ever was in Nameless. Also… I mean, come on, it’s Sharad. There’s no way I’m going to be cooped up in here all day.»
Yvette grimaced knowing full well that those factors did not always produce safety, and even on occasion did just the opposite. But Yvette could see in the girl’s eyes that she was set on being dazzled by the city’s attractions. And Yvette doubted anything short of an outright order as her elder would stop her; though even that might not work. Simply locking her inside the wagon was theoretically an option, but one far too barbaric for Yvette to actually consider—at least at the moment.
Yvette sighed as she left the table, making her way to their small textile cabinet, «If your mind is truly set in this, then… you may partake in an urban excursion, but only on two conditions.»
«Conditions?» Rína stifled a scoff.
“Yes, conditions.” Yvette asserted.
Yvette couldn’t blame the girl for her derision too much as Yvette was never one to give hardline orders, and neither was her niece one to follow such. But where the girl’s safety was concerned—or at least the minimums therein—Yvette was willing to be a bit authoritarian.
«Firstly, you are to return here before dusk. If you do not, I will assume the worst and track you down. Secondly,» Yvette wrote as she fished out a roll of fabric from the cabinet, «wear this while you are out.»
Yvette then took a pair of fabric scissors and cut out a narrow meter long rectangle, handing it to Rína. It had the appearance of thin green wool, and while it was soft, it appeared utterly mundane.
«What’s so special about it?» Rína wrote, eyeing the makeshift scarf.
«It is alive in a sense, taking in sunlight, moisture, and particulates from the air; it is more similar to moss than anything else.» Yvette explained, «Its only function is releasing a large amount of a very persistent scent chemical that, to my knowledge, no species can normally smell.»
Rína furrowed her brow, «So then why would you… Oh, you can tweak your nose to sniff it out, can’t you?»
Yvette nodded, «Quite right, and should I need to find you, this will make it far easier.»
«And you just happened to have this stuff lying around this whole time?» Rína wrote, eyeing Yvette.
Yvette frowned, «I made it for a circumstance such as this, though I honestly did not suspect it would see use so soon. Regardless, please wear it Rína, if not for your sake then for mine.»
Rína considered for a moment before nodding, «Alright, I promise I’ll keep it on me.» She wrote as she draped the scarf over her shoulders.
«Thank you. Now I suppose we should both be going,» Yvette wrote, «And Rína, please stay safe and… have fun.»
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Yvette watched her niece’s retreating form as more and more passersby occluded Yvette’s view of her. Some instinct from deep within Yvette’s soul reared its head, demanding that she follow after the girl and keep an eye on her, perhaps even while using a false face. But Yvette suppressed the urge, knowing that no good would come of such actions.
Rína was—at least by the laws of the land—an adult, however among Weavers it was difficult to view someone of only two decades as anything other than a child. Still, though her imagination was fast at work constructing scenarios of the girl’s imperilment, Yvette had to admit that when she was faced against a murderer with advantageous circumstances, it was her niece that walked away alive.
The girl truly was taking to magecraft with startling ease, though of course Yvette would never actually tell her that. She was always sure to acknowledge and celebrate Rína’s achievements, but to give her the full scope of the pace she was setting would only invite complacency—and besides, it would spoil the surprise for when she finally met her peers.
Yvette was abruptly brought back to reality as Rína reached a turn in the street she walked down and briefly turned back to give Yvette a wave.
Yvette returned it, and then her niece disappeared around the corner.
She sighed, feeling foolish. Foolish that she was so worried, and foolish that she would ever let the girl out of her sight. Regardless, she had her own task ahead of her, and the sooner she completed it, the sooner she could just-so-happen to encounter her niece on the street.
Though before leaving the wagon, she would need to get it in a more presentable state, at least to mage sight. During their travels, Yvette had kept a hollow dome of aura projected around the wagon to ward off any such sight. And while it was normally unnecessary, even in the short amount of time they had spent in the city, Yvette had felt the light, telltale fizzle of mage sight against the dome a few times now.
So as a necessary precaution, Yvette went about making small tweaks here and there. In the pantry, the stems connecting the produce to the pantry’s interior were broken off; beneath the floor, the wagon’s digestive system was shrunken and flattened to look more like a layer of insulation; and in the bathroom, the plumbing was disconnected and similarly hidden away within the walls, leaving only a small bath and a chamber pot in its stead. And of course the ox puppets were simply made to appear to be sleeping on the ground ahead of the wagon.
Yvette made these and a dozen other small changes over the next few minutes. It still looked odd once she was done, but with any but a Weaver’s mage sight, the vehicle would look utterly mundane.
With that finished, Yvette turned and so too disappeared into the unending tide of humanity.