…..:::::|. The Glorious Toot.|:::::…..

Sun-rising broke as smoothly as it always had; brightness striking the eyelids with a warm glow. Halycind had gone back to Siin's door and knocked twice, softly. He'd been late to breakfast and they needed to get on to Cloudsfall. Percival had warned her he may have been in poor state due to all the use of craft the day prior. The sharpness of sound and light could churn him.

She knocked once more, holding a glass of water gratefully chilled on one of the ice-blocks a barmaid kept in the Inn's meat closet. It'd been suggested to her that something cold would help soothe his waking. Halycind pursed a lip. Dureyr’s craft users were few in number, hundreds, compared to the population in millions that lived in her seas and lands. Magi were both feared and revered, both hired and hunted. There number wasn’t known to live long due to the hazards of their occupation but some saw ripe old ages well passed that of a normal person’s cycles. But to do this to themselves…this abjection to the aBn Tera Villa? Did mages feel they were always hunted? Did they feel they were always so weak? Why put oneself through such physical turmoil for a modicum more of magecraft? Sense of accomplishment? Status in the world? Mages were just mortals with a sensitivity to the la'as of the planet, nothing more than a hunter or a trapper or a farmer could sense of his trade, she thought. There were magi back home in Haganos who could perform a few magnificent feats without having drunk one-hundred days worth of poison.

She calmed her huff. Her judgements were before her. Halycind didn't know her rear from her head when it came to the craft and she knew this. It was only that she'd wished Siin didn't have to drink that stuff.

Her concern for him was vexing her now and she knocked again. A boy's groan eked in whimpers to the door. The knob turned and the door opened with no one having touched it. When she saw him, her heart immediately went warm staring at the poor thing in bathing robes sprawled on his bed. There were piles and piles of empty barrels scattered about the room. Pools of water puddled the wooden floor. His linens were all soaked and pulled to dilapidation about the bed. The innkeeps were going to fit cleaning up after this one.

This was her childhood friend, whose life of recent she knew next to nothing of. She wanted to get to know him again, honestly. She missed their times playing together albeit full of mischief and troublesome behaviour. Here, even as he lay in genuine ruin upon the cushions, she knew if he’d gone so far as to become a scholar, he'd grown to be centered...dedicated even, to his own life.

She made a soft roo. One she hoped he'd remember from cycles bygone. His body drew in as if to cover himself but there was no cover on the bed that hung well enough for him to reach.

“You react as if you think you're ugly.”

He groaned for a long moment. “Must be a hold over from before the sauce.”

“Or how you really feel.” She advanced slowly taking the sound of her footsteps into account. “You're not.” She offered as she closed in on the splayed man, whose eyes kept attempting to open but failed every time.

Fight it as one may, a Zhuer's tail was the first thing anyone ever looked at. They were so odd, their tails, long from the base of their mildly ridged spines to the length of their legs, curling just so at the tip. Across the race, they varied in both gradation and girth. Siin's tail was heavy looking and a darker blue at the end than some others she'd seen. She vaguely understood his kind to be serpentine in their make but she'd never fully grasped how a pixie could also be a snake. Some of the markings on his skin even mimicked that of a slithering creature but they were faint where she could see. His skin on the whole was different from most Zhuer. Most Zhuer were grey over the whole of their bodies but Siin was a blue mixed with a ruddy caramel. She remembered liking the colour-mix when they were children, blue and that reddish honey, but she didn't have the wherewithal to express that in her rage against his constant pranks. So she instead focused on the oils and pimples of his prepubescence.

“You weren't even all that bad before the sauce.” She prepared to care for his waking with a fresh cloth dipped in a basin by his bed.

“My teeth were constantly missing...I had a broken nose...I never combed my hair. You kept saying to me. I was uglier than the mushrooms I smelled like.”

“Did I make you believe it?”

“Why're you so soft?” His eyebrows tried to knit together over his closed eyes but his expression relented. Any other day he’d have had her underneath him, moaning, in his arms faster than she could realize it, but his stomach was ill and the room swam and even the tip of his tail hurt. “Aren't you supposed to be kicking me in the arse or something?”

“If you saw the pitiful mess I was looking at, you wouldn't kick it either.”

“I'm sorry...I'll rise.”

She helped him to do so. He took the still chilly glass and gulped it down immediately. She felt so sorry for him as she brushed that soft cloth over the pretty skin of his neck. She kept considering why he felt he needed to take that stuff.

“Zhuer always catch a bad run, don't they. I won't be mean to you.” She said still soft in her voice. He was yet moist from lying in soaked linen but the cloth being rubbed across his skin seemed to satisfy whatever other discomfort he still suffered. He must have been terribly dehydrated to wrap himself in wet bed coverings.

“I'm not that much a favourite even among the Buraamirans. Too much like the foreigners, they say.”

“Not good enough for them? Skin not grey enough? Eyes not black enough?” They looked one another in the eyes, each observing the other's colour. Siin's were more grey in their amber and hers were more a chocolate in her amber. They both smiled in-spite of themselves; becoming reacquainted.

"No. No, not really that. It's just...I have codes. Buraamirans tend to be a bit...freer...in action. But having worked with the Villa for so long...I just wholly seem more reserved than others."

"You? Reserved?" She was smiling wholly. "Somehow I can't see that. Pilferer."

"Oh, I'm going to keep stealing. That's never going away."

"Same as I."

“But I've come to understand...somethings in life just have...more meaning. So I focus on those."

“You remind me of the blended-men Veygornne goes on about. 'Always spinning, never landing...but lower than the ground'.”

“Oh, do I sound that depressed? I don't mean to.”

“It's all right. I've always thought you a decent sort even though your scruples were askew.”

Siin perked up a bit loosening his rigidity from hard sleep. “Why haven't you married?”

She gave him room to ready. “Well, while I am Ashok, I – I've not chosen a mate to run with and no-one's chosen me...so I've kept mossy. I haven’t done anything with anyone.”

“Nothing as in nothing?”

He watched her shake her head and that heat from last night rose in the depth of his chest as he examined her features. She'd grown well. Meatier and rounder in her womanly curves than he'd imaged she'd grow into but reality was quite better than he'd imagined. She'd given no one the approval to caress her sculpted jaw, her high cheeks, her well-shaped lips? No one had been given license to hold her naked shoulders, the heft of her form, the strength of her thighs against them? None had seen the rich golden-bronze of her skin beyond the tips of her extremities? Something in him was both pleased and saddened. Had he remained in Ashok, he'd have never let her wonder how desirable she was.

Then he scoffed at the impurity of his own youth. “Well, when I was taken from Cashtiel Roams I thought they'd shove me into a tinker-house; building war-wheels and weyships or something. So, I ran away to Air House. There, I did what I did in Cashtiel but I screwed up and stole from a brothel. Instead of handing me back over to the Kadifs they taught me how to thieve bigger and better things. How to focus. They also taught me the art of pleasure. Something I didn’t know Zhuer were naturals at. While, I admire your resolve, I've long since not shared in your innocence.” Siin educated as he stepped behind a dressing screen.

“Well you know the honor of Ashok mating. Have to make things formal with the parents. Visit with the matchmakers and listen to a thousand meters of warnings from Those Who Wear Old Helms. Be gifted for a cycle's worth of courtship. It’s a lot to go through so I’m not surprised no one’s done it for me."

"I don't see what’s so wrong with all that. If you love her, she's worth the thousand-meter giving." He smoothed from the other side of curled wood and blossoms.

Her own explanation stalled in her mouth behind half open lips for a moment and she let out a nervous breath. What would the matchmakers say about Siin's destiny? Would he be a pair with hers? She near shook the thought to continue on easier topics.

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"B – But the men I found there all thought the same, talked the same. They work hard, sure, but…I dunno. I just need more. I think I've been waiting for someone a little on the edge of Blood and Honour.” She smiled.

“Hmm, perhaps you'd find a mate in Buraamira.” He passed her a teasing eye and grin to match. He was native to Buraamira, and she knew this, but he was also not trying to corner this one warming up to him.

"I sniff aBn Charm."

"I'm not using that...I'd never use it on you." He folded a shirt over his body, having discarded the soaked sleeping attire. "Without knowing." He sounded far more honest than his jovial self. "I only mean to say the 'Raam may fit your liking.”

“I’d always thought I was far too dumb to fit in with those tribes.”

“Dumb? In what world, puppy?!” He exclaimed wrestling with clothing. “You taught me...in-case you didn’t remember. I’d have never known adding two rocks to two other rocks would have yielded me four rocks.”

“Doing arithmetic in small numbers does not make one smart.” She sagged and sighed at his jokes. “...After...after you were gone…” Her head hung a bit. “...My tutors didn’t like me. I didn’t pay attention well. I tried, I really did, but after a few moments of hearing them speak...I didn't hear them anymore. I only saw wuribai playing outdoors. The wistful whims of our leaves turning their seasonal colours. The cloth of wash-maids billowing on the breezes...” she fumbled with her own fingers.

“Perhaps they were uninteresting.” He cut. The sound of her memories was sweet to him, she’d lived a whole life he knew nothing of, but his brow also crowded itself with the distaste of that fact, and that she’d had trouble without him.

She thought for a moment, “I’d never considered that.” She was slouching now and Siin was noticing something he’d never seen in her before.

Self-loathing.

“Yes, some people are just uninteresting. S’got nothing to do with you.”

“Albeit, the only reason they handed me any form of satisfactory marks was because I was royal. That too made me hate listening to them talk about contract breaches and the societal effects of exchanging currencies on foreign soil.”

“You’re not dumb, Cash. You’re curious. You run on curiosity. If that’s not fed at the start...what’s the rest of the learning session for?”

“And you’re definitely not dumb.” She complimented in a scoff. He’d again thought of something she’d not even considered of herself. “I’m sorry I ever said it. I’m starting to understand I was not a good friend to you.”

He scoffed hard.

“I’ve never heard you speak of yourself this way, Cash.” Done wrestling he fiddled with another article of clothing. “I don’t like it.”

“What, you want me to call you dumb?”

“We were having fun, Cash. Whether I was dumb or the smartest child in the world, it didn’t matter. I was having the most fun with you.” He’d hoped his words would lighten her mood. “And sometimes the litter of no-goods we ran with?”

She laughed a bit. “Rotten kids, the lot of us.”

He wanted to hear her laugh at least a little. “We have large litters in Buraamira. You once spoke of that. How many?”

“Oh, it didn't matter. I'd wanted my first one to be a girl, though. That was my only requirement.”

“Same. I'd want a whole litter of girls, however. They can all mend my clothing.”

“Siin.” She scolded.

“What? I'm toying.” He chuckled.

“Then you'd have to marry them all off.”

“No, what? Marry? No, they'd stay nine forever.”

She scoffed. “That's impossible, Siin. Children grow up.”

“Not if you stop time.”

They both relished the little laugh. “But travelling is good for you, pup. Buraamira would love you. You're already open of mind. Creative. Crass.”

"Crass?" She smiled with a small laugh. "I should mind my tongue. It's going to get me in trouble one day."

"Depends on what you call trouble." He trifled, and she couldn’t hide the minute shock on her face. His urges were surfacing and his intestines were beginning to dislike them again so he waved off his inner eagerness to claim her fancy. Without trying, he'd manage to win some of her regard. He would exploit this in due time; when his stomach wasn't such an enemy.

“Oh, reminds me, we have orders to escort some Stainpull from Kha—wee—n—ne—the capital city of Gibson's Loss.”

“Oh. Khawaenae. Why are we going there? It’s so far away.”

“Nono, we aren't. We've orders to escort some Stainpull that's from there. Seems he found himself in some sort of trouble. We're to meet him in Cloudsfall.”

“Oh swell...the armpit of Havvenchael.”

“How's that? I heard it was beautiful.”

“Who told you that?!”

“Veygornne.”

"Veygornne?" Siin rolled his eyes behind the dressing screen. "That man'd be napping in a cessy puddle with culls dancing on his chest and he'd say it was a beautiful day."

"So what it's not?"

“Maybe nearest Havvenchael. Someways up toward the foxfolk mausoleums, possibly, but at the port you can't see anything. It's a logistics nightmare. The fog's so thick they have barges on tether just so the arriving ships don't go crashing into the marina. They have whole diving teams whose only job it is, is to retrieve cargo lost from boats who've run aground. Merchants have whole guilds who guard goods on the docks because the mist's so thick anyone can come take your shite....and there's always some bit of a turf war. Over what turf I couldn't tell you because you can't see anything!”

“That thick, eh?”

“You'll find out.”

She could see his musculature through the curls and shapes cut out in the screen. He wasn't a big man but he was a well-shaped man. She pressed her lips together, seemingly attempting to quiet her own thoughts as he finished dressing.

“And Veygornne has about the aesthetic tastes of a cave troll.” He, being a lot more spry now than when she'd walked in, gathered all his satchels and beckoned her from the room.

They walked passed others still waking from whatever nights adventures had taken place and Halycind thought of watching the full moons with him. Kodlaa's words had come true to some degree and she was happy they'd shared that moment.

Descending the stairs, Siin burst a realization.

“Wait, hang-on. Why does he need the Agency to escort him?”

“Dunno. Veygornne said Percival will brief us when we get to the gate.”

“Oh, taking the Twomoon Stairwell are we?”

“Do you want to climb down?”

“Not really.”

His head was clearing but something wasn't making full sense to him about the Cloudsfall order. Then he thought of the occupation she mentioned, then of her adopted father and sagged a bit. "Oh, and...Cash..." He sighed, "I'm sorry about Taphsel."

"Heh, saw his tools, eh? Yeah, well, it was three cycles ago. Strange looking blade in his back. In his shed. Alone. I was out hunting for the Den."

"Then I'm very sorry."

"Yeah, me too."

They stepped into the main tavern hall of the Glorious Toot where sat a few day-drinkers, warriors, and tintplucks packing for travel. She remembered her mental note to purchase a round for them.

Siin stopped on the steps and stared back at her in disbelief. “Wait, soooo we're not doing the 'Venge here?!”

“Beat's me.” She walked passed him shrugging shoulders. He pursed face and began about six or seven curses but never finished.

Halycind saw some of the fighters feeding the fish in the ponds and thought about a necessity she'd overlooked. “I'm getting some travelling provisions.” Siin nodded, still scoffing at their lack of trial orders, and headed toward the front door.

Halycind saw him leave as she approached the pretty innkeep with her long tawny hair tied-up and bright brown eyes. She'd been most kind to the Agents during their stay and so Halycind thought to offer some gratitude. She remembered the walking coin Percival left her with earlier that morning.

She intended to tip only about five gold to her but then thought of the dilapidation of Siin’s room and slid fourteen gold coins to the young woman, instead, and the girl looked up to her with an excited grateful grin. “Ever your heart, Gibbi.”

“Ever yours, Weroance!”

“My companions made a mess of the place.”

“Oh, that’s quite common.”

“Still.”

Then she slid her twenty-four rosemetal coins.

“Oh, my...that’s too much.”

“I know our coin doesn’t go far around the world but buy yourself something pretty, ok?”

“Thank you, Ser. Oh I’m sorry I mean...Everheart.”

“Eh, least that caught on better than our money.”

Halycind asked about provisions for the group and bought a round for the tintplucks readying to leave. Gibbi waved them over for their round and offered Halycind the pick of salted meats as they walked to the closet.

Halycind didn't so much as see the fist as she felt the buzz in the hackles on her neck, and the unfortunate Gibbi was decked in the jaw upon Halycind's uncanny retreat. Then, she heard the voice before she cited the face in the dark of the closet.

“You stole him from me.”

Her voice was course, as if cycles of anger had come rushing into that one sentence.

It took only moments for the pitch-black of the meat closet to be bright as day when Halycind's wolvkin eyes adjusted. It was a girl, whose cut up one cheek had been poorly sewn shut.

Halycind didn't respond, didn't give any emotion as she settled into a decision.

The girl wore something akin to what the fox-women that scouted Marvynn wore but it was old; old and torn.

The cut girl swung wild to where Halycind was but then swiftly struck her in the gut with her boot to catch the fleeing wolf in her get away. Halycind hit the door sill hard and stumbled, unaware the girl had such swift an aim; then readjusted her assessment. As Halycind unleashed a flurry of blows the cut girl slapped them away in defense and landed two to three solid rocks on Halycind's body. Already sore from being in Ladi Gru Has, Halycind exhaled out more of her conviction to end her stay here. She shook her fists out. Then the two girls squared off.

“Who did I steal?”

“Oh, you know.” The cut on the girl's face moved with an ugly split each time she spoke.

“Aw, no, please don't talk.” Halycind grit her teeth.