19 Tagsibol, 891 ED

Buwan, 12:49

Milagre, Empire of Tyrman

Gogo and I slept in late the following morning. It wasn’t a conscious decision on either of our parts, just something we both needed badly. The bed in my room above the Heron tavern was a comfortable one, and the noise of the taproom below didn’t reach me. I was so exhausted, in fact, that my head had to barely touch the plump pillow before sleep claimed me. I had no dreams, at least none that I could remember. But even before I’d fallen asleep, I’d had one more exhausting task to take on.

“What are you hiding?” Gogo had asked, stepping into my room and glowering at me. “I let the matter go before, but I can tell you haven’t shared the whole story.”

I looked back at him in faint surprise, trying to think of something to say. Not that he gave me much of a chance. “I get that you have a secret you don’t want others to know, Tuck. But I need to be able to trust you. And if I don’t know your purpose, I can’t trust anything you say or do. So you’re going to tell me what you’re hiding, or this is where we part ways.”

I could hold my silence, of course, and refuse to give the Beast-Kin anymore. It would have been the easier option, that was for sure. It would have sucked to lose their companionship for a few days, but I’d recover quickly. That’s how it had always been in life for me. Yet something made me want to preserve the bond, even if prolonging it would risk revealing my secret to someone who couldn’t handle the information.

“Close the door,” I said finally. I still had no clue what I was going to share, but I didn’t want whatever it was to be overheard. I used the time to sit on the comfortable bed and think of what to say. Finally, I settled on something so close to the truth that it was essentially the same thing. Because I didn’t want to lie. I hated lies myself.

“How much do you know about Ancients?” I asked him. Posing a question gave me a little more breathing room, and put Gogo on his heels.

He frowned deeply as he thought about his answer. “Not much. I understand that most of what the world knows is by accident. You Ancients like your secrets.”

I was tempted to let out a sigh of relief, but I didn’t. He still thought I was an Ancient. That would prove a great boon. “Tell me what you do know.”

Again, he frowned. “You were created in the first days of the world. Ancients are the oldest of the races. They were created by Ahya to fight against Chaos and Corruption.”

I nodded in agreement. It was accurate so far, but he wasn’t finished. “Everyone thinks that Ancients are immortal, but I know it’s possible for them to die. Still, they can be revived. Their bodies don’t rot, right? At least, there was no sign of rotting when I found the tomb of Menikos.”

I nodded again. “What happened to the Ancients after the First War?”

“They scattered,” he said. “They went across the lands and ocean to the far corners of the world to fulfill their purposes.”

“There we are,” I said, interrupting him. “Purpose. Each Ancient has one.”

“Right. Everyone knows that. Even the Ancients that were made more recently have a purpose.”

Well, not all of them, I added, thinking of Sefina, Elena, Eric, and a few others. Some were just given the physical, mental, and spiritual strength of an Ancient. I didn’t share this thought aloud, however, as I was pretty sure the actual Ancients wouldn’t want that information out in the world.

“Are you telling me,” Gogo guessed, the frown deepening, “That your purpose means that you can’t reveal yourself to the other Ancients? I thought you knew them well.”

“Oh I do,” I said at once without thinking. “But it’s important that very few people know about me. None of them do. Only the Mother does, and that’s the way it has to stay. For now at least.”

“But you looked really scared of those two girls downstairs,” Gogo pointed out. “Were they Ancients?”

“In a way. The redhead is the daughter of Samuel Bragg.”

Gogo let out a soft ‘ah’ of understanding. “I see. Bragg would be the one to identify you quickest, I bet. But who was the other girl?”

“That was Sefina,” I said. I almost shivered at the thought of that particular Ancient discovering who I was. Seeing that Gogo still didn’t understand, I added, “Sefina Lance.”

“Lance? But isn’t that…”

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“Yes,” I agreed. “That’s Grimr’s original last name. Sefina is his daughter.”

Gogo let out a low whistle of awe at the realization. As he did so, I could see the last of his suspicion toward me fading away. “No wonder. If Samuel Bragg is a bad one for you to be on the radar of, he’s just as bad.”

I nodded slowly. “I hope that’s a good enough answer.”

“It’s fine for now,” he replied, turning toward the door. But then he hesitated, as if he wanted to ask something else, but was building up the courage. “What is it, if you don’t mind telling me?”

I raised an eyebrow, not understanding the question, so he elaborated. “Your purpose. What is it?”

“Ah,” I said, pushing down a new flare of panic and trying to appear wise and mysterious. “That, I will keep to myself.”

“Fair enough. Have a good night then, I suppose.”

“Good night, Gogo.”

When I awoke the next morning, the first thing I noticed was the sound of the street. The magic laced into the walls that blocked out sound was ruined slightly by the window, which I’d thrown open to tempt in the chill night air. I could hear the sounds of more than a hundred people walking by the Heron, chattering with each other quite loudly. I grimaced against the noise, not to mention the shaft of sunlight that stabbed into my eyes, and rolled over on the bed, burying my face into the pillow.

A quiet knock at my door made me sit up, holding one hand against the light. The system told me that it was just after midday. Perhaps this was Mandra, or another member of the staff, coming to tell me I had to leave the room. But after a second, the door opened, and Gogo was revealed, with tousled hair and a pale face.

“Best you wait up here for a moment,” he said, stifling a yawn. He looked very odd without his fine red coat, I thought. But he was already making efforts to tame his hair back down. “Those Ancient girls are down there saying their farewells.”

“They stayed here for the night?” I asked, incredulous. “It couldn’t have taken them long to reach the forest.”

“Apparently, by what they said, Mandra insisted on it. When they leave in a few minutes and you come down, Mandra has breakfast ready. I’ve already paid for it, and the meals.”

I cursed quietly as I realized I’d forgotten about the cost of the rooms. I reached for my coin pouch where it was resting on the bedside table and fished out a few coins. Gogo saw the movement and waved it away. “Don’t worry. I had a fair amount of money before you came along. It was nothing.”

And he’d closed the doors before I could say more, so I gave a deep sigh and returned the coins. Might as well get up now, I told myself, swinging my feet around and resting them on the warm planks. I checked the time on the system again, measuring out how much of the day was left for me to pursue, and making a mental list of all I wanted to accomplish. It was going to be a busy day, I thought, getting up with a groan and crossing to the basin of cold water on the dresser.

About half an hour later, I found my way downstairs into the taproom. It was much quieter than the previous night, with only a few patrons enjoying a quiet lunch and a drink. Gogo was waiting for me with the promised breakfast, a pile of steaming scrambled eggs and sausage. I scarfed the meal down, following it with fresh orange juice, and then we were on our way, with Mandra’s cheery farewell following us out of the door. “Come back tonight if you’re still in town, dears!”

Gogo chuckled as we paused outside the door, looking up and down the wide bustling street. “What a woman. I could eat there every day for the rest of my life.”

“Let’s hope you find a way to become very rich,” I replied with a snort. “That’s the only way you could afford it.”

“It was more reasonably priced than most inns and taverns I’ve been to,” he countered. “Besides, the point of gold is to spend it, right? What’s the reason for avoiding the occasional treat, just for the sake of saving your coin?”

It was hard to argue with that logic, I thought. And as I thought of the coin, my eyes drifted to the right, deeper into the city. If the city hadn’t changed too drastically from the mental map I’d had for years, then about a mile that way and to the west would lead straight to the market district. My first goal.

“Let’s go then,” I said, taking a step into the stream of people on one side. At once, I found myself surrounded, corralled in one direction. The noise of the crowd was slightly oppressive once I actually took the time to notice it. The faint hubbub that had drifted through the window of my room couldn’t do this crowd justice. It was easy to tell now that Milagre had over a million souls that called it home.

Gogo caught up with me without much trouble, weaving through the crowd as if it were a natural act for him. He flashed his teeth in a wide grin when I looked at him curiously. “If you think this is my first crowd just because I’m from Baithak, you got another thing coming to you. I’m full of surprises.”

He was certainly that. Laughing and shaking my head, I stayed with the flow of traffic for the better part of a mile. Then, when we reached a crossroads with paths that led into the Market, Temple, and Noble districts, I began to hedge to the left-hand path. Gogo made the change easily enough, and before long, the crowd around us thinned to the point that we could walk more comfortably.

“The famous Market District of Milagre,” I said, pausing in my tracks. The flow of people behind me simply diverted to the sides, avoiding running into Gogo and I. “It certainly lives up to expectations, doesn’t it?”

I hadn’t meant to say the question aloud, but Gogo shrugged, unimpressed. “I’ve seen markets. Big or small, they’re all the same.”

“No pleasing you,” I snorted, moving forward again. Despite the crowds and the level of noise from all the shouting that customers and merchants alike were doing, it was just as exciting as I’d expected. A real treat. For once, my expectations matched what lay before my eyes. The hollering merchants, the flood of different tongues, the wildly differing colors of the exotic and plain clothing, it was all a wonder to behold, and exactly as I’d always pictured it.

But, of course, there’s always one thing that you can count on, whether you think of things in your head or see them with your own eyes. The unexpected. No matter what you do, there are some things that you don’t expect to happen. And fate, or rather the hands of the person who was writing this story, had deigned to throw something unexpected my way. Later, thinking about the feeling of excitement and peace that had swelled within me, I should have known that something was coming. No story can go that long without drama, right?