Evelyn spent the last two weeks on a ship, slowly making her way to the eastern shore of Midarior, to find Annette. The journey was painfully dull. The ways of amusing oneself on a ship were rather limited, especially if one wasn't a part of the crew, but just a passenger. Most of her days were spent in mundane training, fixing her travel-worn clothes, and looking out over the railing to see the scenery change from the northern reaches of Thabinat to that of southern Aldunis.

Today was the day that she was to finally set her feet on the hard, steady ground. After two weeks of worrying about what might be happening to Annette, she was finally going to start looking for her.

The intertwining of gentle beaches and steep cliffs marked the shore as Aldunis, and in one of those alcove-like beaches was Sylio, the town where everyone not rich enough to buy crane service in Avinea was landing. It seemed a good place to start, not only because Evelyn didn't exactly have access to her family's plentiful resources, but also because Annie's kidnapper probably also wouldn't.

She couldn't be sure if he took the route south and hoped to get away by boat, but it was the closest way for her to check, and she had to start somewhere.

It was already after dawn, and the night crew had already replaced with the other half of the sailors, ready to dock and start working on the cargo once they reached Sylio. They didn't have to wait long.

The ship arrived at the Sylio docks, situated in more of a valley between the cliffs, rather than nestled between two steep walls. Evelyn guessed that location was one of the reasons why this port thrived more than the numerous fishing villages they have passed along the way. The docks themselves were mostly quiet, calm even, when they arrived. Lots of empty spaces too. Though they were slowly beginning to fill out, the ship Evelyn was on was part of that process. When it first tossed the ropes overboard for the harbor workers to moor, Evelyn was out. She had already paid for her toil and had no intention of staying on that deck any longer.

She didn't have much with her, only a small travel bag to make moving from place to place easier. She wasn't exactly an adventurer — not yet anyway — but she practically did what they did. Travel from place to place, help people, and maybe get some money in return. She spent the last two years living like that, and she loved it. What was there not to love? Freedom, adventure, and a sense of purpose. All the things she never had when she still was an errant girl, or as her stepmother and her stepbrothers called it: a member of the family. A stray that her father brought with him after a diplomatic trip somewhere, and never explained why or how. He remains the only one she could call family to this day. Well, he and Annette.

And she was going to find that half of her family, whatever the cost. She couldn't afford to lose her.

Evelyn decided to start her search by asking questions. And what's a better place to do that than a tavern? She started going to every inn in Sylio, one by one, and the first thing she found was that there were surprisingly a lot of them in Sylio. It may have been small, but the constant flow of goods and people surely brought its advantages to the commercial market. It was both a blessing — because there were a lot of places to get information from — and a curse because there were a lot of places to get information from.

The questioning didn't go great at first. No one had seen a teenage girl with black hair and blue eyes, and if they did, they had no idea where she might be headed, or if it even was Annette. Evelyn knew that a lot of people come through this town, but it didn't help to ease her frustration. She had asked extensive questions to every barkeep, local man, and even some travelers, but she was no closer to picking up her trail than she was while on the ship.

After going through the entire side of the big street that most of Sylio were centered on, she decided that if she did not find anything on the other, she would have to change her target. She really hoped that the kidnapper would go through Sylio, because the next best spot for information is Avinea, and Evelyn really didn't want to go back there. Meeting her father perhaps would be nice, but not the rest of her "family."

Evelyn walked into an inn that was furthest away from the sea. It didn't look any different from the rest, which didn't raise her hopes much. A bar across the room, facing the door, tables set all over the floor in a rather unorganized manner, and a second floor with rooms for guests that were staying the night. The smell of alcohol and food mixed with the stink of people made for a rather ordinary experience of a tavern. The two small distinguishing marks were a small stage in a corner and cover protruding from walls that made little alcoves for the tables nearer the walls.

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She made her way to the person she assumed was the innkeeper. He was in the middle of cleaning the mugs as his workers cleaned up the rest of the inn. There were some clients,, but they seemed like the kind that wouldn't mind the staff doing their job when there wasn't much clientele yet. Evelyn approached the innkeeper and with a firm and confident voice, asked, "Good day to you, sir. Can I ask you some questions?"

He lifted one eye from the cup he was cleaning. "First time?"

"E-excuse me?" she asked, confused. "First time what?"

"Asking questions. I know that an inn is the best source of information. Some even make more money selling it than drinks. I understand how that might make you think like it's normal to just strut up into my inn and act like you own it, but that just makes me annoyed." He put the mug aside and took another to wipe clean. "And worried," he continued, "that there could be problems involved in my inn. I bet that most of my peers in our town feel the same, judging by your discontented look."

Evelyn looked at the man cleaning the mugs and didn't know what to say. She was taken aback by the straightforwardness of the innkeeper and wanted to say something back. She was held up by the fact that what he said was making sense. After swallowing her pride, she asked, "You're right. I'm sorry if my behavior insulted you in any way."

"It didn't," said the man, "but only because I know you didn't mean it."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, if you've been in the business for as long as I was, then you get to recognize good from bad at a glance." He kept his eyes and focus on his counter and mugs.

"What made you think that I'm… 'good'?" asked Evelyn, crossing her arms.

"Your demeanor, how you walk, and your clothes," he replied simply.

"My clothes? What about them?"

"For starters, they are clean. That means you aren't likely to just start punching at every inconvenience life throws at you, which is why we are even talking. Your pants are fitted, but not because you want men drooling after your legs but because you travel a lot and you find them comfortable. You aren’t easily intimidated when walking into taverns alone, where men are eyeing you from across the room. It's not because you don't see 'em. You just don't care. Shows you feel confident in your skills, which most likely were learned on the road." He picked a glass to his left eye and tried to find more dirty spots, letting the light show any smudges. "That belt," he continued, "that's as wide as a tree is practical, but surely draws some curious eyes. You don't care whether you draw attention or not. Your blouse, sweater, or whatever that is that doesn't have its bottom half also says that you want to wear that belt over your clothes and have quick access to it. You could have just worn a thicker shirt underneath, but that would cripple your movements, and those short, flat-topped shoes say that you like to keep your balance. Probably a fighter. A dancer or thief is less likely, judging by your assertiveness.”

Evelyn stood once again, stunned. She had no way of expecting to be analyzed so scrupulously that day. She shook the shock off and tried to keep her cool. "That's a lot of assumptions from just one look that you took."

"Why would I look more? I'm married and you are way too young for me."

She tapped her finger on her crossed arms, trying to keep her patience with the man. "So, is that what you do here? Tell your clients their life story by looking at their clothes?"

"Nope. Only the ones that think they are entitled to walk into a tavern in the middle of the day, not buy anything, and ask questions."

Evelyn's arms dropped to the side. "Look, I know I was being rude, and I apologize for that ag—"

"No, that's okay." He put the glass and the piece of cloth down and finally looked at her straight. "I was just messing with you with the last one. But, a piece of advice, next time you want to question an innkeeper, buy a drink or something first. That's just basic courtesy."

"Will do, sir." She crossed her arms again, but in a way that was just casual to her.

"Was I right?" he asked. "With my 'assumptions?'"

She huffed, "Yes, you were. Is every innkeeper as observant as you?"

"I suppose most of us are." His face turned thoughtful for a moment, as if he was trying to remember how many other innkeepers he knows. "It's half of what we do. Observing, watching, talking. A tavern is a very interesting place. Lots of stuff happens: from a drunken brawl between two morons — which has its pleasures, as long as nothing breaks — to the start of revolutions. No better place to discuss politics than a house full of intoxicated philosophers, leaders, and muscle. Huh," he chuckled lightly to himself, "no wonder everyone keeps thinking that we have all the answers." He placed his hands wide on the counter, but not in a threatening or intimidating way. "But that's enough lessons for one day, lass. If I spend any more time with a beautiful young woman, my wife might smell it from across the town and tear my ear down about it."

Evelyn smiled at the compliment and instead of waving her goodbyes, she sat on one of the chairs by the counter and slipped one silver to the innkeep. "I think I will have a pint."

The middle-aged man grinned back. "Fast learner. I'm suddenly much less annoyed by having to answer some of your questions."