It was early in the afternoon.

Atlas stepped up to the pavilion of the Bobaross Trading Consortium. He was slightly out of breath after a long walk and took a moment to catch it. His lungs burned with pain like a thousand needles stabbing him at once along with the sour pain of breathlessness. He had crystal lung an illness born from inhalation of qi crystal dust as a kid. Now he was often short of breath with burning lungs and occasionally coughing of blood.

The pavilion was made of a flat stone floor several steps above the road, large square columns formed a grid holding up a thin and flat concrete roof. Steel wagons were lined up neatly facing the road. In each, supplies, packages and other goods were neatly packed to maximize the usable space. Some of the wagons were ready for delivery, covered in rough cloth covers and bound together with rope. Most were only partially full, with workers moving goods from further in the pavilion to fill the wagons.

From a side alley, more wagons were stacked high with lumber with the occasional wagon of plant or animal materials. Here the wagons were made of a mix of steel and wood. These wagons were being unloaded and in the case of wooden ones dismantled in addition. These goods were moved into the back of the pavilion pending sale and transfer.

Atlas walked past the front desk heading into the center of the pavilion. As he went, he greeted several familiar faces of other workers at the Bobaross Trading Consortium.

In the center of the busy pavilion there was a large wooden table two meters in diameter, a cut section of a citrus tree. Eight stools each a foot in diameter were arranged around the large table. These stools were also cross section of smaller trees each of a different species. On one of the benches sat Madam Lucretia, in front of her was an extensive purple clay tea set. Beyond her in rear of the pavilion, packages heading east were stacked in a neat pile, large shipments of bulk goods from distant lands were being broken up, and goods sourced from the locals were brought in. Lumber was stacked and sorted in different piles.

Madam Lucretia looked up from her cup of tea, “Ah, Atlas, it is good to see you.”

“Hello Madam.” Atlas sat across on a pinkish-pale wooden stool.

Madam Lucretia emptied the leaves already in the tea pot into the slop bowl. Then from a purple clay container she scooped new dry leaves into the tea pot. She then filled a small kettle with cool water from a water gourd. Madam Lucretia then placed the kettle on its wooden base, made of a purple wood, which fit snuggly. She laid both her hands against the wooden base and began to cycle her qi to heat the water. It was a subtle thing utterly invisible to the eye but not entirely undetectable. The wooden base under her hands hummed softly with her qi.

Atlas waited patiently as Madam Lucretia used her qi. There was likely a qi crystal or qi matrix in the kettle or the bass which would burn the qi Madam Lucretia was cycling through it. After a short moment Madam Lucretia poured hot lightly steaming water over the dry tea leaves.

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“You should take more time off, spend it with friends. If you keep this up, you won’t make it past twenty.” Madam Lucretia spoke lips pursed.

Atlas had lost count of the times he had had or seen another hauler have this line of conversation with Madam Lucretia.

“We lost another hauler today, Remith got gored by a tainted bull.” Madam Lucretia continued, “Every time I send you boys out less of you come back. Then I have to pick from a new group of kids who to put to the fire next. I rather you boys leave or take on a more mundane job than to die alone on that desert road.”

“It's not like you force anyone to be here, all of us haulers are here by choice.” Atlas responded trying to console Madam Lucretia. “It’s more of an opportunity than anywhere else in the city, besides going into the crystal mines. Here there is the chance for crystal lung at least.”

“Damned if I do damned if I don’t.” Madam Lucretia smiled sadly. “My husband often said much the same.”

Madam Lecretia poured out the water from the tea pot into the slop bowl. Placing her hands back to the base she briefly cycled her qi, reheating the water. She poured hot lightly steaming water over the livened tea leaves.

Madam Lecretia poured out a cup of tea for both her and Atlas. “It’s been a while since you were the only one at the table. How has your condition been treating you? Any changes?”

Atlas: “Same of same old. I stopped going to the Institute for checkups.”

Lecretia quirked an eyebrow.

Atlas: “My condition hasn’t improved at all in the last two years. They just kept telling me the same things.”

Lecretia: “I thought that the Institute offered treatments too?”

Atlas shook his head. “Only experimental ones. I tried two of them, one did literally nothing while the other one put me out for a month.”

Lecretia: “Oh, is that why you went quiet during Spring Coming?”

Atlas nodded.

As the conversation lulled in gloomy silence both Atlas and Lecretia took the moment to drink.

Atlas brought the cup to his lips; the tea was still scalding hot. Atlas cycled his qi and pushed it into his mouth. It was the most basic qi movement, not even an exercise let alone a technique. He could feel the crystal dust in his chest opposing the motion and drawing much of the qi into themselves. Most of the qi made it to his mouth, the higher concentration pushing his mouth to new extremes. His blood flow increased; his sense of taste sharpened as did his sense of smell though less so. When the hot tea struck his tongue and mouth Atlas could feel the heat but only the faintest prickling of pain. He could notice much of the qi he was cycling burn off and more qi being draw in to replace the loss.

The tea tasted like… tea. More specifically it was jasmine tea. Atlas knew this was a high-quality product Madam Lecretia would serve no less at her table. Still in from his limited experience it tasted to him like all the other jasmine teas he had consumed in his life. Atlas preferred a jasmine honey tea, chilled.

Trying to lighten the mood, Atlas spoke. “So… Did you hear that Radjedef is joining the Milistratum? We could bee seeing a Glass Wing honey making its way here.”

Madam Lecretia began to respond then narrowed her eyers. “You know what? Maybe it's a good thing you are going.” Madam Lecretia said rolling her eyes.

Atlas chuckled.

Their conversation continued as the day cooled, a few other haulers joined the table and the conversation over several cups of tea. Then it was time to begin the haul.