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“Rosehip,” Gage started. The two of them were walking down the alleys back towards her stall. The heat of the day had already left the sand, leaving the walkways fairly cool. “What exactly does a tab do, if it is worth forgoing this much tally?”
The mouse-woman shrugged. “Can’t say they would get as much as you. Most who have come here only know a language, maybe two if they know a Common tongue. Knowing more, even partially, put you a step ahead.” Rosehip seemed to think for a moment. “A tab translates, oye assume in the same way Ma’tuk does for you. It can only do the languages that are spelled into it, even still only to one at a time, and generally to one person at a time.”
“That seems… kind of limited?” Gage furrowed his brow.
Surprisingly, it was Ma’tuk who spoke up. “Well duh! Not everyone has a super powerful and awesome and handsome and magnificent archon helping them out! You have an advantage with having divine power backing you.”
Rosehip nodded along, chuckling. “Such a good boy you are Ma’tuk!” The orb beamed with light. “It is right, you know. At a time like this, communication is important. We got lucky with having someone show up with the forethought for talking with each other. Else this place might have been a blood bath, rather than a new beginning.”
“Is it really such a weird spell?” Gage asked as they reached the bazaar with Rosehip’s stall.
“On its own? Not so much, oye suppose. Oye once cooked for a big party hosted by some lord or other, and he had a similar spell in place since he invited people from all over. He wanted them to be comfortable and enjoy themselves, not stay lumped apart because they couldn’t even say ‘ello’ to each other.” Rosehip pulled the two of them to a stop a few feet away from her stall. “But it was expensive from what oye heard. He paid more for that spell than for the rest of the party. Normally it was reserved for diplomatic events, oye think. It is the having it on constant, like you do that is… well, different.”
Gage felt himself flush. “Well, thank you for letting me know, I suppose. I hope I’m not putting anyone out by this.”
“Doubt that. You just come off a bit posh. But hey,” She elbowed him playfully. “Now you have the tally to back that up!” Rosehip chortled.
Gage snorted, “Oh all right now. Thank you, Rosehip. I really appreciate it, and I should probably go have a talk with my tent now.”
The two of them shared their goodbyes and Gage headed back to his tent. As he and Ma’tuk approached, there was a light inside the tent. He exchanged a glance with the orb, flipped the front flap aside and walked in.
The blankets he had laid out over the floor had been folded up and placed neatly outside his room. They had been replaced with what looked like carpets of a light orange color. There were several pillows, designed for various seating arrangements and of various shades of orange and brown. They were seated around a low, flat table of a dark, sandy color that had been set up in the middle of the tent. A hole was cut in its center for the pole supporting the tent. In the far corner, outside the storage compartment, was a stone fireplace that looked like one you would find on a patio. Its chimney rose and went through the roof of the tent. A screen of off-white silk sat in front of it, diffusing the light through the room for a steady light, rather than flickering flame.
Elfric and the family were seated on the cushions around the table, and each turned to look as Gage entered. “Well,” Gage started, “I am feeling a little less confident about my food box now.” He grinned and stopped himself from stepping on the carpet. Several slippers and a pair of boots were set just inside the tent flap, and he realized everyone was bare foot. He stepped out of his shoes and lined them up with the rest. Eshu gave a chuff as he looked up from the far side of the tent, a bone in between his front paws. Chew marks were already evident on it.
“Do not worry my friend, I am sure it will still be quite useful.” Elfric said as he raised a small cup in salute, then sipped from it. “You can thank Aeliana for most of the new furnishings, though I managed to get the food and drink.”
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“I take it you all had a fruitful day, then?” Gage moved over and sat down on one of the cushions, setting his food box next to him.
Aeliana nodded. “Yes, it was quite ‘full of fruit’. We were able to do an exchange of goods with one of the crafting clans. Silk for furnishings.”
“That’s great! I think I may have a consistent job now, as a healer. I also learned a few recommendations on how some things are done here.” Gage said as he accepted a cup from Sarnai, though it was more a small bowl. “Rosehip suggested we have one or two of us in charge of the financials and the tent, while everyone else goes out and earns.”
“Like a sagn and tak?” Elfric asked, looking to Gage.
Thinking back to their conversations while they had been preparing for their journey, Gage replied “Yes, I think so. Though less biologically inclined as it is for your people, but with you being a tak anyway, you would be out as an earner, right?”
The elf nodded. “That would be correct. I could take on the role, if necessary, but… it does not sit well for one of my people to go against their nature like that.”
“Sarnai and Rashani can do these things. Sarnai is good with numbers, and few can best Rashani in a deal.” As Aeliana spoke, it was the first time Gage had seen Aeliana seem prideful. Or seem like anything besides reserved, for that matter.
“Then, uh, heh. I suppose I should transfer over my tally.” Gage pulled out his token and looked at it, biting his lower lip. “I managed to earn a good deal of tally today. I sold my language to the ‘old git’, as Rosehip called him, who creates the translation tabs. Apparently, he is a linguaphile and I had a few he was unfamiliar with. He paid well.”
Sarnai held out the token and Gage tapped his to it, transferring the tally with a mental flick. The alajin’s eyes widened. “Paid well indeed.” Gage was almost certain it was the only time he had heard Sarnai speak. The hand holding the token quickly disappeared into their sleeve.
It was not done before Faelenor glimpsed a look. “That is a lot of tally! Does this mean we don’t have to go thirsty?” The young one looked up to Eiravela, who admonished the child quietly.
Gage smiled to himself and took a sip from his cup. It was water, though it was flavored with some herbs. Not strong enough to be a tea, but more like the lemon water offered at restaurants back home. “It means we are probably not in as dire straits as we had thought. But Eiravela is right, we should be smart about what we do with it.”
The elder alajin gave Gage a nod. “Aeliana and this one will be producing silk. Though it will take time we will provide a nice sum of tally. With Sarnai and Rashani keeping the home and Faelenor too young, it will not be as often, however, perhaps once every…” Eiravela paused to calculate for a moment, “Twenty-one of these new days.” Aeliana put a hand on Eiravela’s arm and the two shared a caring look.
“I have taken work with the exploration and hunting parties. It is less tally, but I will be getting better deals and first choice of meats before they are sold to the food vendors.” Elfric said with a shrug. “It will also give me a chance to search for signs of my people.”
The tent continued to speak into the evening, planning out necessities for the future. Faelenor and Eshu were the first to drift to bed. The family assured Gage that the dog was not overstepping by taking up so much of Faelenor’s attention. In fact, the family was glad that Faelenor had some responsibility to keep the child occupied.
Rashani had refused to enlighten the rest of the tent as to what the fireplace was burning. Instead, the alajin simply assured everyone that it was cheap and not a waste of resources. It was a fuel that burns over a long period, generating a low heat that would give them light without making things too hot.
Gage was not the last to head to bed, but he was glad once he did. Once again, as he laid himself out, the events of the day caught up with him and he passed into a deep rest.
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In the stillness of the twilight, he stood alone at the top of the spire. It had long whispered the secrets of his ancestors. The vast desert expanse before him lay bathed in the fading gold of the setting sun, each grain of sand aglow with the day’s last embers. As he watched the shadows lengthen, his thoughts turned inward, weaving through the complex tapestry of the solitude of his burden. He knew his actions bore the weight of his conviction to protect his people from that which threatened their ancient ways. Yet, in the quiet, the edges of doubt crept in, soft and insidious, challenging the clarity of his purpose.
He closed his eyes, feeling the cool desert breeze against his skin, carrying the scent of time and memories. In these moments of solitude, he wrestled with the question of legacy – what would the sands remember of him? As the stars began to prick the canvas of the night sky, he made a silent vow to the desert, to the spirits of the kumdahari that danced in the whispering winds. His resolve hardened like the countless grains beneath his feet, each a testament to endurance. No matter the judgement of history, his path was chosen with the purity of his intentions, clear in the sanctity of his solitude. The Son of Sand would walk this path alone, if need be, a sentinel in the shifting dunes of a changing world.