Back then while he traveled with Rask, it wasn’t that Ral didn’t want to be a Freerunner - it was rather the Rask who kept him from calling himself one.
“There’s a training period with a veteran Freerunner, then you have to be accepted by others as one, like a kind of club,” the captain once explained. “Not only do you have to maintain a good reputation to stay in the club, but if the others deem you ‘unsuitable’ for Freerunner work, they can kick you out without warning.”
Rask went on to explain that there technically no benefit of being a Freerunner, at least not in their current era.
“Oh, lots of old Freerunners would talk about how kings used to bow to them and how they were more valuable than any lord and ladies of the lands,” Ral remembered the captain saying, following it up with a snort. “But now? I daresay a jack-of-all-trades wanderer isn’t exactly put on a pedestal.”
Despite that, the years after leaving Aris at the Academy were spent as if they were Freerunners. Rask even introduced himself as one to anyone who asked and picked up contracts under the name of one in order to travel. It was certainly a more inconspicuous title compared to Captain of Caelis. Rask had assured him several times that he only used the Freerunner title because he needed to, not because he wanted it.
Even now, Ral didn’t understand why the captain was so hung up on it. If calling oneself a Freerunner was as inconsequential as Rask had made it, then what was the big deal? Kentor frequently made up titles for himself when he thought it would benefit him a certain way. This made-up title would explain a whole list of things people might question: why was Ral in the company of Kentor? Why did he know all sorts of random bits of languages and customs, including Yscian? Why was he going around asking all these questions?
If he was poised as a hard working Freerunner who was simply looking for a pretty horse named Affie, it made things a lot easier on him. He had no need to pretend to be his more secretive twin, or the more conniving Kentor to get by.
After drinking with Donn that night, Ral thought long and hard over the topic of sick horses. If he had to find a sick horse, perhaps he had to pretend he owned a sick horse he needed to get rid of. So the next day, he strolled into various pubs and taverns across Alkkes and asked if anyone could take a sick horse off his hands. He gave his fictional horse a name and everything.
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“My loyal girl, Donna,” he had loudly told several people who shared a drink with him. “I’d hate to see her go but I really can’t use a sickly horse for my cargo.”
“I would just use it until it drops,” one patron shrugged. “Those things cost me money and shits everywhere, why shouldn’t I use it until it dies?”
“Your alternative besides killing it and abandoning it is selling it to stable master Ivron,” someone else said diplomatically. “He buys sick horses.”
Ral pretended that it was the first time he’s heard of that information, leaning forward to the wiry old man in the packed, hot pub. “That would certainly be useful for me. I mean… not many people buy sick horses. Is this Ivron doing it out of the goodness of his own heart?”
“Goodness of his heart, ha!” The old man laughed so hard he snorted in his drink. “Ivron only ever does things for money. Money money money. If he’s buying sick horses, he’s certainly doing it to turn a profit.”
That then begged the question: how does one turn a profit on a sick horse? An even better question: where in sun’s name did Ivron put the sick horses when he buys them? Despite what Donn had told him, not many people would want to spend money on a horse that couldn’t work. And it certainly didn’t seem like Ivron sold any feeble horses.
The next step was obvious. Ral spent the day looking at spots where horses could be kept in Alkkes. There were stables for them around every corner, the creatures were essential for hauling heavy rocks and cargo in and out of the city. Ivron already owned the largest stables that could hold upwards of thirty horses. Other stables were privately owned by rich merchants or noblemen and they could hold no more than five at a time. There were work horses that frequented the upper levels of the mines and although they were dirty, they all seemed to be strong and hardy.
Alkkes had no place for sickly horses. Ral finished his search near the end of a long day and ended up trudging back towards the mines. A crowd had gathered there under rumors of a new batch of Liquid Crystal being mined. The best spots to spy on the mounds of rock and ore being carted out were taken, so he had to stand a bit further back. Ral found himself in the spot he saw Ivron stand in days ago. It was a little elevated due to the frequent hills and dips around the mines. If he looked northwards, he saw that he could see over the walls of the city. It was much more obvious in the dark since what was beyond the wall was lit up in a yellow glow, like a whole town’s worth of lantern fire shining through the night.
If one couldn’t keep a sick horse within Alkkes, the obvious answer was to keep a sick horse outside of Alkkes.