Prelude 13 - Morning
"Between white and black lies the truth that reflects who you are back at you.”
[Unknown source, page 292 of the Adventurers Alliance Encyclopedia]
Next thing he knew, gruff and irritated sounds of awakening animals filled the air. Aches surrounded him, concentrating on the middle of his back, where the ground under the tent swelled upwards like the back of a spoon. Rolling to his side brought immediate relief, like being swaddled in a cool, minty wrap. He could drift off with such ease. But an urgent plea broke through, screaming inside his skull. Wake up!
He was up, but his head felt weighed down by anchors in all directions. A swallow of water from his canteen dislodged a lump of dryness but those invisible burdens still wanted to drag him back down. Cestia!
She lay right next to him, her pale night clothes exposed to the stiff, morning air. Her arms flopped to the side with her hands balled in fists. She didn’t snore but, as he knew well from their sleepovers in the forest, she breathed urgently through her nose, as though fighting for each breath. It worried him, but he got used to it.
Shuffling quietly against the material of the tent, he reached over and delicately adjusted her blankets so they covered as much as possible without moving her. Slowly, she drew her arms back close to her body and shifted. He waited a few moments to see if she would rouse or give any other sign of being awake. When she didn’t, he made his way back to the other end of the tent to gather his things.
Outside, the still air clung to every patch of exposed skin. His slow breath swirled and hung like a puff of smoke. Once on his feet, his body felt ready to go through the daily chores. But none lay before him. No animals to feed and check on. Although...
Reaching into his bag, he extracted the pet box and the pink, crystalline egg containing Leaky. Glancing around the camp, with the cold embers of a fire at the center, he saw Suray‘s tent set nearby.
It was smaller than theirs. Worn, metal clasps joined the material shut at the front. Unlike Cestia, Suray absolutely snored and with gusto. Breaths passed through her entire body like a vibrating wave, making noises to challenge the excited snarls of fierce monsters. Rufus had to be somewhere else.
Clasping the crystalline egg firmly, he stretched out across a bare stretch of grass. What flakes fell overnight clung to the tallest blades like a thick, icy dew that refused to drop. Finding a decent enough, bare patch, he laid the egg on its side and drew his hand back.
He watched, with all his attention and focus, as the egg peeled back like a translucent, rounded envelope. Strands of golden light linked to the box as Leaky plopped on the grass. Simple as that, and he’d done it without either of his instructors over his shoulder and flooding him with details he struggled to parse into what he really needed to know.
Leaky wore a blank but curious look for a moment, before it seemed to understand where it was. Whimpering and shivering, the Charmdrop hopped in place and vibrated to shake the dew. Kaye beckoned it over and the Charmie dashed, mostly airborne, before landing in his lap.
“Ahhhh....haza payan podda fuuu...paradda faaara? Goomma taaa!”
Even though Kaye had no idea what it was trying to say to him, its body language told him enough. Leaky expressed relaxed relief while enveloping his lap. Kaye steeled himself, as the first few moments felt like cradling an icy teardrop. Soon, his pets and rubs brought a surprising amount of warmth from the creature, as it shifted and vibrated in place. While its mood started out at what best could be described as shivering concern, it overwhelmed his lower half like a squishy, living pillow of contentment and joy.
Rummaging through his bags, while still keeping his lap steady for Leaky, Kaye dug out a white, woolen topplue. He brushed it off and held it next to the Charmie to judge the fit. Leaky stretched to check out the knit hat and glanced into Kaye’s eyes curiously.
He unfurled a long, slow breath like a spinning band of lace. His feet started to throb with renewed circulation as he turned the cap back the way it was supposed to be from inside out. Stretching the material, he gently secured it around the pinnacle and leading, upper edge of the Charmie without covering its eyes. The creature gave a brief, nervous whimper as the hat settled over it, then paused in anticipation when Kaye took his hands away.
“Pranya? Branna poyo? Bagaaan?” Confusion lingered with its mood and questions. Kaye let the edges of a frown trace his lips as he considered whether this was a good idea. This wasn’t the original topplue. It wasn’t even the second. Those meant so much more than this one. He barely even wore it anyway. But it would be better to have some use. Returning to his travel gear for his shaving mirror, Kaye held it in front of the Charmie and tried on a smile.
An instant later it occurred to him, from his experiences on the farm with cows striking their hooves at puddles, that this might be a bad idea. But, before he could pull the mirror away, Leaky exuberantly bounded towards the glassy surface. It missed, tumbling end over end off the edge of his legs and into the cold, dewy grass. The dazed critter looked to him in confusion as he helped it back into his lap.
Putting aside the mirror, Kaye rested his hands on Leaky's sides and explained, “This is yours, to keep you warm.”
He suspected explaining in words was just as pointless, but he wasn’t sure what else to try but give it time. Once Leaky settled again, it watched him. An earnest, concentrating expression wriggled across its simple features. Kaye smiled sympathetically and added, “If you want it.”
Quiet moments passed as the Charmie listened, flexed with the cap, and glanced around, as though uncertain what happened to its friend. It asked something else in a language he still couldn’t understand with high-pitched, cute little murmurs. Carefully, Kaye stood up, with the Charmdrop cradled in his arms, and announced, “We should go get some breakfast.”
While Leaky still puzzled and murmured nervously as Kaye rose to his feet, it also snuggled deeper into his arms. Leaving their tents behind struck a sudden spark of fear in Kaye’s gut. He pushed it down. Cestia wouldn’t just leave, not this time, he told himself.
He dashed such thoughts away with Leaky clutched comfortably in his arms. The Charmie made little, curious noises as it gently shifted to peek. Not many others were up but some hunting around led him to a self-proclaimed "traveling" chef working on an immense pot of rommegrot porridge with large slabs of salt-cured venda meats and several dawry eggs nearby.
The man had his dense, full hair tied back and away from his cooking. He explained that, in Elshelm, the castle cooks eagerly shared lessons for the most intricate cakes along with simple, fried skewers. “I’m still learning. It doesn’t all turn out perfectly. Your friend there may enjoy one of my failed experiments.”
The porridge was richly aromatic with a touch of delicate sourness that reminded Kaye of the best times at home. But what the cook revealed on another table was unmentionable. Parts of it begged to be blurred by steam or dazzling beams of light. Clearly, it was food, or at least attempted to become it. He had no idea why the meaty parts were vivid blue.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Compared to his slightly-green reaction to the disastrous platter, Leaky approached with eager anticipation. The Charmie could barely be restrained from the discolored, monstrous mess.
The chef filled Kaye's inventory with plenty and more for breakfast as Kaye sighed and accepted the ruined dish as well. But he made sure to pack it at the furthest end, while the better food sat next to his most recent drops. Despite Leaky creeping and nearly drooling its way into the special bag, Kaye had his doubts about whether the creature would ultimately appreciate the taste. As an alternative, Kaye inquired about Tersa green apples, feeling an internal rush of satisfaction that he was able to recall the name.
While the cook didn’t have any of those on hand, he was able to point him to a traveler in the camp willing to part with a half-dozen. However, the currency he wanted in exchange was strange. Only by asking and trading around did he manage to get enough for a single Tersa. It seemed so meager.
He looked down at Leaky, who hopped out of his hands while he was negotiating. The Charmie bounced vigorously across patches of traveler-worn grass still with flakes of icy dew. It lingered by the nearest campfires and rocked gleefully while humming childish tunes.
Back at camp, neither Cestia nor Suray appeared to have stirred from their tents. Nodding to himself, Kaye tried to assemble the fragments of a plan, like delicately handling jagged shards of glass. He started a small fire to first warm the rommegrot porridge, and set the rest of the ingredients off to the side.
While roaming around, he heard idle mention of an exchange market organized by a “weird-looking” guy. That description helped. Before long, he found him.
At the edge of a small incline past the phonograph (Charmie conductor and rodent players still snuggled up asleep), it was easy to pick him out of an ambling assortment of adventurers and wayfarers. He wore eyeglasses of a tone like polished obsidian just translucent enough to glimpse his prominently-arched, black eyebrows. Metallic buttons and buckles decorated his sleeves and waist. In fashion, his attire evoked the style seen on Melody. Stitches and seams even, clean, or invisible. Yet, neither of their clothes quite matched the qualities of a magical sewing machine like Rufus’s.
The material had a faint sheen, even in the dense morning air. While most of his outfit was a dark brown between sodden ground and evergreen bark, a prominent, golden band encircled his right sleeve with an even brighter, yellow shirt flaring underneath the jacket. A solid, black vertical sash of fabric looped around his neck and filled the middle space of the shirt. As Kaye took in the presence of the oddly-dressed man, he adjusted his snug, ivory-toned gloves and inquired, “Is there anything you would like to buy or sell?”
The man raised his head attentively but gave no cheery smile Kaye might expect of a general store owner or any of the merchants he’d ever known. With a flash of his glove, the man fixed a single barb of his hair which had dipped out of place. The groomed expanse of it reminded Kaye of a combed hedgehog. It was perfectly slicked back with a rise near his ears. A silvery, nearly-white flare trailed off at the back of his head, like someone had covered his head in glossy paint and forgotten a dab at the finish.
The final, curious note was he didn’t have any visible goods present for sale. It was just him standing alone. Leaky bounded in place a few times before Kaye reached over to pick him up again. Though he’d been hopping across cold, icy grass, Leaky warmed up quickly in Kaye’s arms.
“What do you sell and what will you take?” Kaye asked in return.
“Anything and anything. But I only stock what others will sell and buy. Give me a name and I’ll give a look.”
”Tersa green apples.”
“An excellent choice. 273 in stock, 3000 Zel each. If you wish to sell any, I can offer you 100 Zel for any sold on our platform, minus a modest 9.1% trade tax for stocking and other expenses.” He bowed lightly and waved a gloved hand.
Kaye scrunched his forehead. He had several questions, beginning with, “Who are you?”
The strange man covered a quick chuckle and calmly replied, “Call me Broker, for that is my service. I am a broker between travelers, adventurers, and anyone who wishes to trade goods throughout the multiverse. The market moves quickly, so I can only host sale goods for two days before I must return them to you. No charge.”
Kaye wrestled his thoughts into as much focus as he could manage at this early hour. He pressed about prices.
Broker spread out his hands evenly at his sides like a balance scale. “Simple supply and demand. My associates do all the calculations to determine the fair market price. If supply falls below a certain level, then something we sell might enter crunch time. Suppose there were only 30 of these green apples and 50 buyers wanted them. We hold all sales during crunch, so supply can come in and buyers can change their minds. If demand still exceeds supply then my associates flip a few coins and those lucky buyers go home with what we have. Make sense?”
Despite all that information, Kaye didn’t feel quite so lost as sometimes. However, he still only had one of the apples for Leaky.
Rationally, he understood the best move was to just stay with what he had, head back to camp, and prepare breakfast for Cestia and Suray before they got up. But Leaky looked up at him with those curious, adorable eyes. So, he put practically everything he had on Broker’s trade market.
In return, Broker handed him a parchment agreeing to what they had traded. Like the maps and all the other strange things around, it had a magical liveliness. The broker also assured Kaye that if he wanted his stuff back (before it sold), all he had to do was say the word. All the actual trade involved was opening up his inventory and sending it over to the broker. Ultimately, the waiting was the most challenging part.
It registered to Kaye that actual, other people needed to buy what he was selling on this mystical marketplace. But how? How many locations were there? And how likely was it he would sell what he needed, to have enough for the apples? All good questions he should’ve asked before committing. At least he reassured himself that he could just ask the broker for everything back. To keep his mind from dwelling on the awakening encampment, while Leaky nuzzled his chest, he asked the broker, “So…multiverse? How… exactly… does that go?” He could’ve phrased it a little better.
Fortunately, the broker had a ready reply. “Well, same as how Mithgard is a single layer of the Nine Realms, there are many layers of universes. Each so close to this moment that another you and another me could be having an identical conversation in exactly the same circumstances with a single, additional breath as all to distinguish us. However, I can only trade through a relatively-small, curated number of them. Think of it as... nine districts in a large kingdom. Each district contains three townships and each township holds 27 locations. In conclusion, there are 729 universes that the grand mages of Gennep consider safe and benign for trade, travel, and sport. But you can find more about that to the east, just across Providence Bridge, on Lingsie Island. What matters here is, the marketplace casts a wide net. So, just keep your eye on your parchment of trade and I assure you someone out there will pay Zel for your goods.”