The night faded ever-more as morning’s twilight slowly dawned, the stars beginning their retreat to behind the blue-sky’s adventing shadow.
Walking. Endless walking. They have been walking for time uncountable without much break besides a moment’s pause. Reminded so thoroughly, they were, of the speed differences between that Far Western hauler-horse and they themselves; they were considerably slower.
“I can’t… I need…” Novea blurted, now even more miserable than she could have fathomed prior.
“Let us pause again, then” Antica stated. Besides her head still throbbing sharply, she was doing just fine.
Novea, on prompt, collapsed down. Panting, cramping, she took off her Raven mask and drenched herself in water from her waterskin.
“This has been a long ‘short’ walk” Antica remarked frankly.
“Shut it… please… not now…” Novea begged in fatigued breaths, by no means in the mood for Antica’s deadpan sarcasm; “I… misguessed…how far…Sparklewater was…”
Antica sighed, sparing Novea of any further…remarks.
“Look…the grass… it’s more… sparkly and…blue but…still green… blue-green… We are close… We are…getting close…” Novea’s exhausted breaths attempted to state.
“Or maybe it is simply your eyes.” Antica, deadpan, bluntly stated; she had failed, it seemed, in her attempt to spare Novea.
“SHUT… Raven Mother… Antica…why are you so… so… you” Novea exhaled out, in essence, demanding to know.
Novea caught her breaths, laying her back against her carry bag on the grassy ground. Her battered lungs relaxed, her baggy exhausted eyes…staring around. “…this would be so much better…if passers…didn’t ignore us… If only we were...in…more innocent forms…” she lamented; “So… hungry too, I…hate…salted dried meat; I want…something…filling and real…”
Antica herself detached her Remnant liquid container-flask, pressing its button as the tip slid open. Taking a few sips of the cooled and sterilized water, she closed the tip and reaffixed the strange flask to her equipment-attacher.
Now that Novea was carrying her primitive munitions-bag, such was now an easier endeavor since her container-flask had actual space. Indeed, her equipment-attacher and equipment-harness were designed to accommodate Remnant…stuff, not primitive. She felt more natural…and comfortable.
Novea began to shiver, the…consequences of drenching her face with water at this…rather chilly hour…having arrived to collect. “Gods’ fucked Demon… Ugh!” She was a mess, to describe it mildly.
Cramping, exhausted physically, emotionally, and cognitively… such was evident in her language usage. Antica had not heard Novea speak such…vulgarities…in such a way and to such an extent nearly as frequently as the past couple or so hours they had been walking.
Antica sighed; “Now will you rest? We walked away… We are away, so you may rest—I will watch” she suggested, again.
Novea, her mind impaired from drained exhaustion, puffed; “They…could be following…”
“Your bird is in the air; they will know if we were being followed. Besides, I can assure you we have not been—I would know” Antica…tried to reassure.
“We’re outside… exposed… right next to the road… Slavers, bandits… I don’t… What if Sunflower…comes around and just—” Novea was splurging aloud, her thoughts…not exactly coherent.
“Your imagination is taking control: you must rest, and that is final.” Antica so bluntly declared; “I will not continue to walk until you rest. You are unreliable this moment, and I cannot allow that.”
“Woawa… ice-voice… That was harsh, but…yeah, you’re…you’re right… I can’t… I need… a few hours… a few… few… just a few… hours………” She toppled over, gone in an instant.
Antica sighed… How fast that was indeed. Though, she evaluated around. Antica…did not necessarily like the position they were presently in. Too exposed, and too many avenues for…long distance suddenties.
Hmm… She analyzed, identifying several…securer alternative locations—collections of vegetation and forestries primarily, being abundant in this locality.
Although she had many reasons to now be…wary…of forests, ever since that…incident…hours prior, Bee was being far more attentive, even to priorly designated ‘non-relevant’ highlights; she had not even ordered her sentinel to be such… But neither Bee nor she herself…wanted a repeat of that…hubris. In retrospective hindsight, it was so obvious that…her predominate threat were the locals themselves, not even those unknowns.
Regardless, she had no reason to be too concerned. Thus, without delay, she approached the sleeping Novea and…
How was she even going to…move both Novea and her large carry bag and…stuff?
Oh well, she will figure it out…
-|||-
Novea yawned herself awake…as she sat herself up, stretching and wiping her eyes. She did not even remember…falling asleep, yet nevertheless… “…I feel reborn… Wow, soo much…better… I needed that, I really did…” her thoughts bled aloud as she glanced around.
Immediately, Novea could tell that…she had been out for…quite the some time—the sun was creeping towards noon, in fact.
“…how long was I—”
“Six hours, I think… That is how long” Antica interceptingly answered, having been patrolling about as Novea slept. Antica’s ignited eyes were…exhausted quite so, but her mind remained with sharpened attention. She said she would watch; thus, she watched.
Novea acknowledgingly nodded… “Ah… Well… oh well, I am not even going to become…dumb-minded about that…” She continued eyeing around…finally realizing that…
“Wait… Wait… Where… Where are we? This not…near the road, and I remember we were…right near the road… Why are we in a forest—of all…”
“I moved us…somewhere safer” Antica simply replied.
Novea nodded away… “Safer?”—she peered around, skeptical quite—“This is… Alrightly, this is a loose patch of trees, so maybe… But I…don’t even know where to…find the road… So remote…” She sighed, before noticing her carry bag, corvid mask, revolving-rifle, and such…all neatly organized together… “…how did you even…carry all of that along with me?”
“If there is a will, there is a method” Antica vaguely…stated; “Besides, you ask this of I who carried full bags of those…glow-crystals many times” she added.
Novea nodded away; “Message received… You’re right, you are a you—I keep forgetting” she cordially replied with a pinch of sarcasm.
Novea’s mood and condition seemed considerably better; she did not seem as miserable.
“So, how are you?” Antica asked, nevertheless.
Novea let out a relaxed exhale; “Reborn…almost, I think my bleed is subsiding… Though, speaking of that… I have to… Oh Raven Mother…” She stood herself up and quickly ahemed; “Anyway, uhm… what happened yesterday…never happened; officially, I…helped you away from those goblins, and…cared for you, and…then we went on our way… Got it?” Her voice was strict.
“What is this ‘yesterday’ you speak of?” Antica simply replied, deadpan.
“Good… Now, if you…excuse me, I have some…matters to attend to, so…could you… you know… uhm… give…a girl her space?” Novea…awkwardly…requested; “We’ll be walking afterwards, but I have to…”
“Of course, I know… I have my…own needs, after all, so…I shall leave you, then” Antica replied, before she turned around and…walked off, giving Novea her…‘privacy’ or whatever. Denizens…
Despite her acquiescing, Antica would have preferred maintaining her guarding presence; after all, such moments were ones of inherent vulnerability.
Nevertheless, she patrolled and wandered about…within reactive range…of course. Having no such needs actually needing to be attended to, she simply…did nothing—no different than when she had been traveling by wagon, to be frank; at least she could move around, though.
-|-
“Boo! Alrightly! I am ready! Let’s move!” Novea suddenly announced from behind with revitalized energy.
Antica had anticipated her arrival, however; thus, she was not surprised by this suddenty. She turned and stared… Indeed, carry bag strapped on back, revolving-rifle too, corvid mask donned, Novea was ready to continue walking; Antica was ready in kind.
“Finally. I was concerned for a moment.” Antica replied, her voice devoid of any such concern.
“Eat my—ahem—anywayy, you didn’t…leave anything, rightly?” Novea…catching her tongue, quickly inquired.
“Of course I did not.” Antica replied more bluntly. Indeed, she had already double-quadruple checked several times over well before this point.
“Greatly heard… Let’s start walking, then… Will have to…figure out where you’ve…dragged me, but Sparklewater awaits! We’re close!” Novea said with enthusiasm. She began to promptly walk off…in an almost energized march, Antica simply trailing behind…
Yet as the two recontinued their traveling walk, Antica’s most apparent nemesis as of late was once again beginning to…incurse: boredom.
“So, then, spy…” thus she began to speak from behind, Novea glancing in reply, “this ‘Sparklewater’ or wherever… Tell me the details of this place, if you are willing”.
Novea…continued to glance; “I just woke up feeling reenergized… and you already want me to…drain myself, my soul, and my voice, don’t you?”
« … » Antica simply stared, flat affect.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“The silent ‘yes’… Oh, why not? Though, I must caution that you will get what you asked…” And thus, once again, Novea began to speak as if she were a walking-talking book, detailing…many of the details of this ‘Sparklewater’ locality—quite so, intentionally so.
Ultimately, Antica would come to understand more about this obscure likely-to-never-be-revisited locality…than she ever cared to know. Though, she merely wanted to pass the time, which such certainly had.
-||-
Glimmering away in the distance downhill, sparkling as if carbonated, was the Great Sparkly Lake, connected to which was the colorful humble city of Sparklewater, the chief holding of the sub barony, barony, and vice county of the same name.
Sparklewater was nominally a vassal realm to the County of Sparklewater—the county-level title being held by someone who was…not the title-holder of the Vice County of Sparklewater, but rather was the Vice Count and Grand Baron of this ‘Bubblewood’ locality, who happened to—due to quite the convoluted chain of events and feudal technicalities—inherit the title of ‘Count of Sparklewater’ but not the actual fief and city of Sparklewater itself…which had gone to a relative along with its associated titles.
Regardless, Sparklewater, despite being subordinate to Bubblewood and thus paradoxically the County of Sparklewater, was largely autonomous if not quasi-independent.
Likewise, despite its humble size, Sparklewater was a rather affluent city, owing to its connection to the one-of-a-kind Great Sparkly Lake which provided fresh, clean, and perhaps unique…water, which was also the key ingredient in their most iconic production: bubbly and sparkly water, sweet-flavored ones these days. Recipes and craftsmanship perfected over thousands of years, the making of this ‘sparkly water’ was an integral tradition of their culture. Nowhere else could such a—according to the locals—perfected beverage be found…which made it ever the hot-zone for traders and merchants looking to export.
Indeed, as the two made their way down this hill, the road leading to the city’s white, aquatic, and bubble-sparkly patterned walls was a train of…wagons and carriages seeking entry, backs stuffed with empty crates and barrels eager to be filled with the lucrative beverages. So excessive this was, the realm’s guards had to regulate and control entry.
“Wow… I mean, I could already tell from…the traffic on way, but…it really is worse than the last time I remember being here… Guess demand is…higher?” Novea remarked, slightly perplexed.
Antica stretched her hood forward as much as possible, lowering her exposed cyanic eyes downwards to keep them obscure. She did not want to close them just yet.
“Do we have to wait…as with the rest?” she inquired.
“No, we’re on foot, so we can skip them by and head for the gate… Maybe not fair, but who’s going to stop us?” Novea replied. She then gently grasped her abdomen… “Hopefully…Fertility is done with me… I have enough lady-linen just in case…” she murmured to herself; “Though, speaking of…” Her focus abruptly shifted to Antica behind…
“…what is it?” Antica inquired, noticing the sudden stare; “Focus at the front or you will hit into something—again”.
Novea shook her head; “Ahem—no, sorry I was…just looking at your… Your hood seems to be covering that spot up…besides the wrapping, but…not a problem… Not a problem at all…” she said, her voice perhaps implying…that such was a problem provided that such could be seen.
“The bandage thing that you…put on me, is that…what you were interested in?” Antica inquired with a slight tilt.
“Heh… It’s not… It is not…an actual medicine-padding—ahem—I had to use…the only doable…thing I had on me, so…yeah… It’d be weird if you were spotted with that on your head, but…nobody can see it… so… like I said, not a problem…” Novea replied.
“I see. Alrightly, then.” Antica simply acknowledged.
Though, now that her attention was on Antica, Novea shifted her sight to…the rest of Antica’s figure… They were about to head into a city, after all, with her looking as she was. “Huh…” Novea began to blurt, “…that purple cloak of yours really does…conceal you and all of your…gear… When your arms are tucked in, at least—keep it that way, if you can”.
Indeed, provided that Antica was not moving her arms around and about, much of the figure underneath her cloak was concealed, fitting perfectly beneath.
« De corsad, síc éntelliģetùr » Antica acknowledged, “It is understood”. It was not as though such was exactly one of the points for her Remnant smart-cloak and so-called ‘denizen disguise’ uniform to begin with.
“Anyway, here we are… Entry should not be a problem for us, and once we are past the gates, it’s straight for the Guild hall… And remember what I said, follow my lead, let me do the talking, and—” Novea was saying…
“And remain silent and keep my eyes obscured—I know.” Antica completed.
“Goodly heard… Yeah, be what you’re best at being: enigmatic and mysterious… You’re peculiar, even for our standards… Best to keep curious others more confused and asking than being given answers” Novea stated.
« Ôh, jo de talid conșcjo maximë. Ita postomnja éd tébi aghents eșom » Antica remarked from behind. Oh, she was more than well aware enough of that; after all, such was exactly what she was doing with her.
“Oh, rightly, and…if anyone happens to try speaking to you and you really cannot stay quiet, then…just say something in your tongues—not in ours” Novea added, having heard the alien words behind.
-|-
Colorful, aquatic, and so…vibrant. Such was the first impression upon stepping foot into this settlement. The buildings were made of stone and brick yet were all seemingly painted. Bubbly, watery, and sparkly…in the coloring, in the patterns, and even in the very architecture of the buildings themselves which had a more ‘cup’ or ‘bottlely’ sense to them. There were even bubbles dispersed into the air from… Antica did not even know from where, but they were seemingly everywhere.
It was as if this locality did not simply manufacture these most obviously carbonated beverages as much as…worshipped them.
Though, unlike Coastfield, the layout and planning of this city was, at least, organized and structured—by no means the product of chaotic sprawl. Very easy to navigate, seemingly, even despite the…density of denizens—even more prominent given its comparatively smaller size.
Antica’s head was still throbbing; the sheer urban noise and sounds was…making her dizzy. The sunlight too; the buildings were painted so vibrantly the reflected light burned her eyes—in feeling. She had no choice but to close her eyes as she trailed behind—something she was going to have to do anyway, granted, but still…
“Grab onto me if you need to; don’t want to lose you in the crowd” Novea said loudly to Antica…due to the diluting noises around, though not necessarily shouting.
“I am fine; keep walking” Antica replied loudly in kind.
“The Guild hall shouldn’t be too far… Just don’t get distracted, we are here for one reason only” Novea stated loudly. Yet…“W-wait… Is that a… pygmy mammoth?! Awwww!” she…quickly became distracted.
The presence of so many traders meant the presence of…many fascinating things, suffice it to say, including friend-sized furry pachyderms…seemingly.
-|-
The two stood in place. The area around was more silent and calmer, besides the…apparent…denizen-sounds emanating from within…that certain…familiar building. Even in a city so alien, it still looked distinct and specific—unmistakable. Antica had caught a quick glimpse before closing her eyes, so she knew…they had arrived.
The Sparklewater Guild hall. Though, this Guild hall did not have the same windows-for-walls as Coastfield’s hall had.
“It is strange that this building is easy to find no matter where…” Antica remarked. Indeed, compared to this…sparkly and bubbly city, this building stood out significantly—ironically by appearing more normal than the rest of this city.
“I know, rightly… Anyway, here we are; let’s do this…” Novea replied, before taking in a deep breath, setting her mind to the proper…setting, so to speak.
Finally, Novea sprung open the Guild hall’s doors…and stepped in, Antica following behind in kind with closed eyes.
“WHAT THE GODS’ SACRED FUCK-BASKET DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT MY DODO BIRD?!”
“THOU HEARDEST ME!”
As with the first time Antica had ever stepped into such a facility, all the noise swiftly overwhelmed her. Truly, so noisy for what was supposed to be a dying institution. Had she not been shot in the head by a .69 caliber lead ball, she could probably have tolerated this.
Indeed, it certainly sounded like the interior of an Adventurers’ Guild hall, exactly as she…remembered it—if not more rowdy and loud than Coastfield’s.
Her hearing was still adjusting to the transition away from vision, never mind her throbbing mindache impeding such adaptive processes in general, thus…she could not yet pick out too many details of…the space around.
This perhaps…irritated her deep down within, for she did…perhaps…want to stare around, especially at the adventurers—she wanted to know what…peculiar and bizarre equipment they might have on them, even if she did not comprehend…why.
Hmm…though, she could immediately tell that the hall around seemed somewhat smaller and more condensed than the one in Coastfield.
“Oh, door just opened! Hello! Hello!” so gleefully began to greet with a familiar charm…what was most certainly a dark-blue vested main counter receptionist, “Welcome to the—Heh?!” Yet the gleeful charm quickly mutated into…stunned surprise as she finally saw…who had just barged in.
All the other light-blue vested receptionists around…stumbled in their doings, disconcerted from the sudden entry of…what was usually bad news for their branch.
The cackling and packling adventurers infesting this facility with their bantering noises…also began to simmer down into silence as their eyes began to peer and stare…in kind.
“Oh Gods’ sacred toilet…”
“…who are those two broads? Those are broads, correctly?”
“…I’d keep your mouth shut if I was you, bad news…”
“Ravens?”
“What in all the Gods’ names does the Bureau want with our branch?”
“Alrightly, which one of you Copper-merchants are in sick-trouble this time?”
“I got this dodo legally and from a permissioned vendor, if that’s whatfor they be herein!”
“…h…hexagons?”
The main counter receptionist—the only one on duty—ahemed from her stun, promptly redonning her expected Guild girl charm…or, at least, attempted to; “Alrightly! What a…rare sight, truly… We don’t get many of you…Citadel folks here, never mind…little birdies”—she shifted her eyes to the hall around—“Uhm, so… everyone here be quiet while I handle this! Thank you!” she…ordered with a charming smile.
The Guild hall quieted on command.
Novea stepped closer, malevolently; Antica followed along, enigmatically.
Novea ahemed; “Sorry to intrude. We intend to make this quick. I and my…partner here are in need of transportation to the Huckleberry Dutchy. That is all that is needed to be known. I will say, however, that this is an urgent matter for the Bureau of Scribes and Documentation and the Citadel Administration” thus she stated, before turning her attention to the adventurers…in their…adventurer-tables; “Are there any parties here intending to travel to or near Huckleberry?”
Momentary silence.
“…with all respect, your Bureauness, why in all of the thousand realms would any of us be going there?” an adventurer bluntly replied.
“Broad, half of us here are in Sparkle-my-eyes-are-fucking-bleeding-water because we left Huckleberry… Sure, business is fantastic there but the war and politicking makes it not worth it…” another adventurer stated.
“Not to mention the damn greenies hoarding themselves there… Those ones are something else…”
Novea sighed; “Good point…” she…admitted, before returning her attention to the main counter receptionist who…perhaps…slightly flinched from the sharp stare; “Well, miss, may an arrangement be made, then?” she asked, fully approaching the main counter.
The main counter receptionist smiled with a charm; “I am not sure! I will have to ask the chief and or branch master to see to that… Uhm…would you like to speak to them, perhaps?” She was not necessarily asking as much as…referring them to whom they should be speaking to.
“Unnecessary. I am speaking to you, and I am asking you. Your amulet states you have the necessary privileges.” Novea sternly stated.
The main counter receptionist nearly sighed, though managed to pleasantly smile instead; “I see! Well… I am glad to be of assistance, then! But…”—she paused, her donned charm and mandated act beginning to…wither—“I am not sure…what I can actually do for you…” she more sincerely said.
“I see…” Novea replied.
Ten
Nine
The main counter receptionist finally sighed; “Would you prefer to discuss this in private?”
Six
Five
Novea nodded, “Yes. And I have other matters I must report as well…”
“Right this way, then…” the main counter receptionist said with a nudging wave, about to make way.
One
Suddenly, the Guild hall’s door sprung wide open in such a tumult that all attention snapped straight to the source, as a figure barged in and tumbled to the ground, carrying a gargantuan bloodied sack utterly stuffed.
Sweating. Exhausted. Panting. An adventurer of sorts and their companion—a mage—who patted the miserably fatigued adventurer’s shoulder in moral support.
“There there…” so comforted the companion, mellow voice audibly feminine.
“GODS’ SACRED TOILET! NEVER AGAIN!” the adventurer exclaimed aloud, rugged voice audibly masculine.
All the other adventurers glared…coldly.
All the receptionists stared…grimacing.
Novea stared…blankly; “Oh…” She knew who this was.
The main counter receptionist peered in kind; her charming eyes quickly turned cold and indifferent, yet her smile became a more…sinister grin of mischievous intent, for she had an idea to bash two eggs with one bureaucratic fist.
Motioned as predicted
Predicted to near perfection
Fascinating experiment, indeed
Time may have decayed
But it has not rusted nearly so, it seems
I can already see…
New possibilities suddenly opening…
So many…most certainly indeed…
Warning: Desynchronization
Fates cross paths yet again, by chance
This time, more directly
A hero needs her companions, after all