07-29-2016, 12:10 AM
Today was the day.
Caira traversed the final roads of Camelot and entered the Nexus beside her giant shadow lion. In her hands, there were the notes from the astronomers she had met in Dalaran, in the indents of the page, more had been written and even between the lines. She admitted a sigh, it was nearly illegible for people who were considered so very literate. The portal released her with a Whoosh! and the room became white.
She was alone.
Not the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The simplicity of the moment had Caira mesmerized. As any direction could take her to any of the clues. Her violet eyes stayed on the page, and she chose simply to go straight and see where it would take her. The girl’s legs were tired of walking at the end of the journey, so she paused and did a few stretches before carrying on. New places, new things. The idea of adventure buzzed in her mind as she finally approached a portal that had shells built into its border.
There was only one choice.
Caira plunged in, and was immediately enveloped by the scent of saline. It engulfed her nose, and she could’ve sworn she even tasted the burn of salt on her tongue. Her violet eyes squinted while her ears perked at the soft sound of the tides changing. A rush of wind fluffed her black hair, full of ringlets while the shiny fabric of her sleek attire remained glued to her skin. The wounds she’d accumulated had healed, and she looked down at a few tears in her black skin-tight suit gave her a rather disheveled appearance, considering the stark contrast between the splotches that were torn, it was hard to miss.
Bright eyes glittered at the setting sun and she made her way toward the horizon. Today was a day for new beginnings. The female placed her book back in her satchel and strode off toward the town. Never before had she seen the ocean, never before had she taken in the beautiful orange hue of waves lapping against the sun behind a silhouette of a city’s scape. The view was intoxicating, the air aromatic. It was the perfect weather for her to find what she was looking for.
Now it was all a matter of where to look...
Sand glittered with sunlight as the tide played tag with the sand. Magenta sky painted the cool sheer sheet of water onto the echo of water pooling to create a mirror along the hardened slope of the shoreline and the sun sunk into the cold depths of the night. A new moon began to rise, the sliver of white contrasting against the vast expanse of blue and Caira felt the chill of the wind nibble at her nose. The city streets had certainly died down by now and Caira wandered in, casting wondering glances at the immense beauty of the ocean as she did.
“And my dear, you’ll find the next one in the verse where the waves kiss the sky.”
This was surely it, she thought as she remembered the advice, still clinging in the corners of her mind. She meandered through the streets of Costa del Sol, and she had stopped a few times along the way asking a few merchants and shopkeepers who were closing up, whether or not they had any clue of what she was looking for.
“Astronomer, y’say?” one man asked, putting his hands on his hips and rotating his hips outward, “Why I haven’t heard that term for over a century.” There was a jubilant laugh, his eyes shined with light, but he couldn’t say he remembered anyone by that profession coming through town.
The next shop keeper was a woman who owned a flower shop, she had beautiful hair, and her name was Martha, “Hi there sweetie, what can I do for you? Shop’s almost closed but for you I’ll let you look around, m’kay?”
“Actually,” Caira’s violet eyes caught Martha’s, “I was hoping you could tell me if there are any astronomers in town? It’s a pretty big place and I’m not from around here...”
“My, miss, are you a prime?” her sweet tone was layered with honey.
“I am, this is my first time in this verse. I go all over the place but I’m a knight in Camelot.” Caira spoke the truth.
“Now sweetie, I have some advice for you, don’t be saying those things around the men in white, you hear me? They’ll arrest you, things here aren’t like they are in Camelot, have you ever read George Orwell’s 1984?” the woman spoke rather whimsically, and invited Caira in for tea, who seemed delighted and intrigued by the mention of a book she’d never heard of, and accepted.
“No,” she spoke curiously, “I don’t believe I have.”
“Well hun, not all governments are created equal, see, and... This one has more of a totalitarian regime also there was a lot of surveillance... Umm, let’s see, control that’s the word, the Stormtroopers here patrol in an unhonest way, and they might eavesdrop or attack you if you seem like you’re doing something important.”
“That’s terrible!” Caira gasped.
“And its true, they trashed my shop, and threatened me after my husband died till a nice tall, redheaded gentleman with one arm came in here and saved my life. Now I can afford the shop and the repairs I had to apply since they’ve left,” her tone was calm and sweet, when a little boy with a dog hanging by a bright red leash ran in.
“IS DINNER READY MARTHA?” he shouted.
“Yikes, no need to yell!” she exclaimed.
He asked, comically to anyone who didn’t have sensitive hearing, “WHAT?”
Caira could’ve yelped, instead, she rubbed her ears painfully and winced while the boy continued, “Oh! You can hear me, I was at the harbor today and needless to say, lots of boat horns. My ears’ll be numb all week,” he offered the stranger a grin with only one front tooth, “Hi there, you have really pretty eyes. Martha here would say they’re like irises. Are you her new friend?”
This child smiled up at her with great big doe eyes, the dog by his side following suit, with his pink tongue popping out for stunning appeal, “Now, now, I only just met her five minutes ago when she came into my shop just prior to closing, also, you’re late young man!”
“Ooooh, I get it, so you’re staying for dinner?” this kid was good, and a sly smile leaked from his eyes.
“You’re still late young man. March up to the bathroom and clean up and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get desert,” the beautiful woman pointed to a place out of Caira’s sight and the boy did as he was told with his steps falling heavy on the stairs. “Heh, kids right? He’s not even mine, but he comes here every night for dinner and drops off the paper in the morning, if you ever see a red bike, that’s him.”
The woman laughed and it touched her eyes, “I’d love to have you stay for dinner miss...?”
“Ayryn,” Caira said, noting the ominous tone her false-name gave the stranger, thinking about food and the fact that her body didn’t need it to live.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Martha, and I hope you like fish, ‘cause thats what’s on the menu.”
Less than a half an hour later, the woman was serving up steaming white fish fillets, the little boy had set the table and the dog sat at the end waiting for his bowl full of scraps. It was a beautiful family dinner, and Martha asked Caira to say grace, “Since we are honored to have a wonderful guest with us tonight, please do us the honor.”
“Sure,” Caira blinked and delved back into her childhood, trying to remember what the monks had always said before a meal, “Once, the sun rose, once, the sun set, but when we are together surrounded by the ones we love, we become the sun and welcome the warmth into our hearts. We are thankful for all that fills this room and beyond, our health, our safety, and our everlasting quest for fulfillment.”
Their hands unfolded themselves very slowly while Martha praised, “My, that was beautiful,” and the boy was already gobbling down his fish, adding a dash of salt, a squirt of lemon, and two shakes of pepper for taste.
The young boy thanked Martha for the meal and left with his dog leaving a small trail of paw-prints behind him. The bell on the door jingled as it shut and Martha asked, “So Caira, do you have any place to stay tonight?”
Reluctantly, the Prime shook her head, and Martha only grinned, “You know, I’ve been looking for a way to return the favor to the Prime that helped me, but he must’ve fallen off the Earth for how much I’ve searched for him, so, as long as you promise not to cause me any trouble, I’ll invite you to stay in my guest room. It isn’t much, but it’s a bed, and you seem like a fine young girl, you shouldn’t have to go out on the streets at this hour.”
“Oh, you’re very kind but I can’t possibly impose on you like this,” she protested.
“It’s already done, you Camelot type are all the same, and what’d you say, you were a knight? All the more reason to honor my offer, eh? Tell you what, if you stay with me for the night, I may have a place to send in the morning to help you find what you’re looking for.”
There was no denying that, and Caira was already feeling the limp fatigue draining the from muscles in her legs to the bones of her shoulders. The idea of a clue caught the knight’s attention and she accepted with the gratitude lining the layers of her words, “Thank you,” the Prime said cordially and offered to do the dishes.
“I’ll set out some clean sheets.”
...
In the morning she was awoken by the gentle rise of the gleaming sun over the water, and the loud ruckus of dishes downstairs in the kitchen behind the shop. It was all one building, a very quaint home and of course, Martha’s tea was to die for. The smell of food mixed with the fragrance of flowers filled her nostrils, and it was a kind she had never tried before. “Pancakes” or so they were called, were what was on the menu for breakfast. Lathered in gooey golden maple syrup.
“You’ve never had pancakes? You haven’t even lived!” the kid burst through the doors, letting the bells chime as they slammed, “Oh and the paper’s here.” He slopped down her copy of the paper and looked at the giant stack of pancakes towering over the wooden table with thin legs, which looked like it might collapse under the weight of all those pancakes. It was a feast fit for kings, and Caira was lucky that the kid with the red shirt ate over half of them since Martha said she was ‘watching her weight’ and only ate one pancake without a cube of butter on the top.
Caira picked up her fork and knife, which let’s admit, will always be a little weird for someone who grew up without having to use utensils, and cut a too big bite of flat dough for herself. It had already been saturated by the liquid sugar and it’s golden color glittered in the morning light. After sticking the fork in her mouth, she pulled it out and let the sweet dough fall on her tongue.
“Mmm! This is delicious,” she said through another mouthful as the flavors danced and mixed with the stray blueberry or sliver of banana. After eating a few, Caira was stuffed. The boy went off, thanking Martha for the meal and saying her pancakes were the best he’d ever had, “I’d have to agree,” Caira said with him out the door.
“Thank you, I rarely have cause to cook them, save for the squirt’s birthday. Now, after we do the dishes and water the flowers, I bet you’re mighty curious about what I have to tell you next.”
It was past three in the evening and after hours of grueling work Dang, flower tending was no small task! when, finally, Martha relinquished her silence (save the helpful advice she gave Caira when trimming a snapping bush, which actually snapped off a tiny chunk of the young girl’s hair.)
“His name is Gary, and no, he’s not a bartender at this saloon, but he’s a drunk who stays there day and night. Thing is, he’s the least drunk of them in there, y’know? I worry about the poor guy, I don’t think the alcohol is doing what he wants it to do for him, but hey, it’s his life. The bar isn’t far from here, just two left turns around the block. Remember, his name is Gary, and he’s got blue eyes and usually wears a hat so I don’t know what color his hair is,” she smiled again, warming the entire room and bringing her flowers to life, “Now, I don’t know if he’ll be able to help you, but if anyone in town is an astronomer, Gary knows him, or knows where to find him.”
“Of course, thank you Martha so much for your hospitality, is there any way I can repay you?” Caira offered with earnest intention.
“One way, Miss Ayryn, if you ever find Gildarts, you tell him Martha’s been waiting for him to come visit for practically months. That’s the prime that helped me, you see. He’s a very kind fellow, no temper really, but if he catches you mistreating some silly old flower shop keeper, you’re toast,” Martha giggled as Caira waved and walked out the door.
Two lefts, right? That wasn’t so hard, except that now there was about two thousand people filling the cobblestone streets, it must’ve been a farmer’s market every day, for no one in the city looked at all discomforted by the commotion, save the girl in the single layer of black.
“Ouch!” A knee landed on her shin, while two elbows shoved their way into her ribs. Making her way downtown, and she couldn’t walk any faster to get out of this mess. It was nice though, since she more or less, had cover of the crowd. Not that she was being followed, but with Martha’s warning and the way the guild had treated her with their trials, it was peculiar business indeed, these stars that fell from the heavens...
“Two dollars for a loaf of sourdough! Three for a fresh baked apple pie! Excuse me miss, are you interested in eating any fish?” a merchant leaned closer to the woman, his nose just barely inches from scathing hers.
“N-no, I just ate some last night,” Caira gulped, feeling his eyes as an owl’s boring into her soul.
“Okay! Come again!” the man said and Caira walked off, eyeing the man who had given her shivers. She never liked crowds, and well, this entire street was one calamitous cloud of them. Click click. her shoes carried her, yes, two city blocks left of the cute little flower store she had departed from, and there it was, her destination and it was unmistakable. A big sign hung on the front of it, but the words weren’t in a language she was familiar with. It was German, and they seemed to scramble up and around the wooden sign with a curved and fading font.
Her long legs carried her inside the wooden building, opening the door, she smelt the pungency of alcohol’s odor and dank air. “Hey!” there was a cheers as two men raised their glasses and a third put on a spoiled expression. “Bet’s off Jeremy, you lose. Your odds are nothing compared to my luck. It was a lady who walked in the door.”
“Yeah, yeah, round’s on me,” he groveled.
Caira’s steps didn’t skip a beat as she strode to the front, her eyes catching on the gorgeous blonde bartender with a ski-slope nose. She had no intention of sitting down, but the Prime on task, realized there were certain rules when you came to places like these. Even when you knew you didn’t belong.
“Ain’t she a little underage?” the groveling man asked his friends for a re-match to his two friends who immediately said, “No deal.”
There was a bit of commotion stirring in the bar, the paper had come, and apparently, there was some old news on the front of it, though, Caira wouldn’t have known the difference if Omni was out of power by now, she’d just met him, after all and it seemed like yesterday.
“What can I do for you?” the blonde approached Caira with kind eyes and a smile that accented her cheekbones.
“Hi, could I get a glass of uh, milk?”
Jeremy and the groveling man snickered, Caira felt her eyes widen in embarrassment. Before she could blink the ice-cold glass appeared before her, and the blonde was walking in the opposite direction! She took a few sips and hoped to get the bartender’s attention when she came back around. For now, her ears were loaded with the sounds of many people talk, while her eyes scoped the room for the one man wearing a hat.
“This fella apparently blew up an entire town in Camelot! Killed a few dozen people too! Gosh you just don’t know how crazy the other verses are until you read it in the paper!” A chorus of men responded with laughter while Caira seemed horrified. Camelot was her home.
“Bull shit!” A drunken man called out while Caira searched for this ‘paper’ they were all reading. Would it be in German just like this bar?
“No, it happened, not only is it in this article but I have connections in the Kingdom and apparently it was something that couldn’t have been prevented.” The Prime’s blood was boiling already, it sounded like an all-out massacre.
“He fled the scene after, done and got ‘imself a bounty ‘e did,” someone continued, hiccuped, and grabbed another flask.
“If it’s so true then what’s his name?” someone challenged.
“Everyone calls him Gildarts.”
Caira’s ears rung at the sound of the name, at the same time another man seemed to have dropped his glass, on himself, the bartendress hustled over with a clean cloth and began to pat the man, while Caira looked at the the newspaper a few feet away from her, a paper had fallen out of it in the commotion, it was a wanted picture with a man who’s hair was the color of smoldering flames, and a dark menace had been drawn in his eyes. Below, the number on his head and on the side of that, the very name they had just spoken.
Caira traversed the final roads of Camelot and entered the Nexus beside her giant shadow lion. In her hands, there were the notes from the astronomers she had met in Dalaran, in the indents of the page, more had been written and even between the lines. She admitted a sigh, it was nearly illegible for people who were considered so very literate. The portal released her with a Whoosh! and the room became white.
She was alone.
Not the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. The simplicity of the moment had Caira mesmerized. As any direction could take her to any of the clues. Her violet eyes stayed on the page, and she chose simply to go straight and see where it would take her. The girl’s legs were tired of walking at the end of the journey, so she paused and did a few stretches before carrying on. New places, new things. The idea of adventure buzzed in her mind as she finally approached a portal that had shells built into its border.
There was only one choice.
Caira plunged in, and was immediately enveloped by the scent of saline. It engulfed her nose, and she could’ve sworn she even tasted the burn of salt on her tongue. Her violet eyes squinted while her ears perked at the soft sound of the tides changing. A rush of wind fluffed her black hair, full of ringlets while the shiny fabric of her sleek attire remained glued to her skin. The wounds she’d accumulated had healed, and she looked down at a few tears in her black skin-tight suit gave her a rather disheveled appearance, considering the stark contrast between the splotches that were torn, it was hard to miss.
Bright eyes glittered at the setting sun and she made her way toward the horizon. Today was a day for new beginnings. The female placed her book back in her satchel and strode off toward the town. Never before had she seen the ocean, never before had she taken in the beautiful orange hue of waves lapping against the sun behind a silhouette of a city’s scape. The view was intoxicating, the air aromatic. It was the perfect weather for her to find what she was looking for.
Now it was all a matter of where to look...
Sand glittered with sunlight as the tide played tag with the sand. Magenta sky painted the cool sheer sheet of water onto the echo of water pooling to create a mirror along the hardened slope of the shoreline and the sun sunk into the cold depths of the night. A new moon began to rise, the sliver of white contrasting against the vast expanse of blue and Caira felt the chill of the wind nibble at her nose. The city streets had certainly died down by now and Caira wandered in, casting wondering glances at the immense beauty of the ocean as she did.
“And my dear, you’ll find the next one in the verse where the waves kiss the sky.”
This was surely it, she thought as she remembered the advice, still clinging in the corners of her mind. She meandered through the streets of Costa del Sol, and she had stopped a few times along the way asking a few merchants and shopkeepers who were closing up, whether or not they had any clue of what she was looking for.
“Astronomer, y’say?” one man asked, putting his hands on his hips and rotating his hips outward, “Why I haven’t heard that term for over a century.” There was a jubilant laugh, his eyes shined with light, but he couldn’t say he remembered anyone by that profession coming through town.
The next shop keeper was a woman who owned a flower shop, she had beautiful hair, and her name was Martha, “Hi there sweetie, what can I do for you? Shop’s almost closed but for you I’ll let you look around, m’kay?”
“Actually,” Caira’s violet eyes caught Martha’s, “I was hoping you could tell me if there are any astronomers in town? It’s a pretty big place and I’m not from around here...”
“My, miss, are you a prime?” her sweet tone was layered with honey.
“I am, this is my first time in this verse. I go all over the place but I’m a knight in Camelot.” Caira spoke the truth.
“Now sweetie, I have some advice for you, don’t be saying those things around the men in white, you hear me? They’ll arrest you, things here aren’t like they are in Camelot, have you ever read George Orwell’s 1984?” the woman spoke rather whimsically, and invited Caira in for tea, who seemed delighted and intrigued by the mention of a book she’d never heard of, and accepted.
“No,” she spoke curiously, “I don’t believe I have.”
“Well hun, not all governments are created equal, see, and... This one has more of a totalitarian regime also there was a lot of surveillance... Umm, let’s see, control that’s the word, the Stormtroopers here patrol in an unhonest way, and they might eavesdrop or attack you if you seem like you’re doing something important.”
“That’s terrible!” Caira gasped.
“And its true, they trashed my shop, and threatened me after my husband died till a nice tall, redheaded gentleman with one arm came in here and saved my life. Now I can afford the shop and the repairs I had to apply since they’ve left,” her tone was calm and sweet, when a little boy with a dog hanging by a bright red leash ran in.
“IS DINNER READY MARTHA?” he shouted.
“Yikes, no need to yell!” she exclaimed.
He asked, comically to anyone who didn’t have sensitive hearing, “WHAT?”
Caira could’ve yelped, instead, she rubbed her ears painfully and winced while the boy continued, “Oh! You can hear me, I was at the harbor today and needless to say, lots of boat horns. My ears’ll be numb all week,” he offered the stranger a grin with only one front tooth, “Hi there, you have really pretty eyes. Martha here would say they’re like irises. Are you her new friend?”
This child smiled up at her with great big doe eyes, the dog by his side following suit, with his pink tongue popping out for stunning appeal, “Now, now, I only just met her five minutes ago when she came into my shop just prior to closing, also, you’re late young man!”
“Ooooh, I get it, so you’re staying for dinner?” this kid was good, and a sly smile leaked from his eyes.
“You’re still late young man. March up to the bathroom and clean up and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get desert,” the beautiful woman pointed to a place out of Caira’s sight and the boy did as he was told with his steps falling heavy on the stairs. “Heh, kids right? He’s not even mine, but he comes here every night for dinner and drops off the paper in the morning, if you ever see a red bike, that’s him.”
The woman laughed and it touched her eyes, “I’d love to have you stay for dinner miss...?”
“Ayryn,” Caira said, noting the ominous tone her false-name gave the stranger, thinking about food and the fact that her body didn’t need it to live.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Martha, and I hope you like fish, ‘cause thats what’s on the menu.”
Less than a half an hour later, the woman was serving up steaming white fish fillets, the little boy had set the table and the dog sat at the end waiting for his bowl full of scraps. It was a beautiful family dinner, and Martha asked Caira to say grace, “Since we are honored to have a wonderful guest with us tonight, please do us the honor.”
“Sure,” Caira blinked and delved back into her childhood, trying to remember what the monks had always said before a meal, “Once, the sun rose, once, the sun set, but when we are together surrounded by the ones we love, we become the sun and welcome the warmth into our hearts. We are thankful for all that fills this room and beyond, our health, our safety, and our everlasting quest for fulfillment.”
Their hands unfolded themselves very slowly while Martha praised, “My, that was beautiful,” and the boy was already gobbling down his fish, adding a dash of salt, a squirt of lemon, and two shakes of pepper for taste.
The young boy thanked Martha for the meal and left with his dog leaving a small trail of paw-prints behind him. The bell on the door jingled as it shut and Martha asked, “So Caira, do you have any place to stay tonight?”
Reluctantly, the Prime shook her head, and Martha only grinned, “You know, I’ve been looking for a way to return the favor to the Prime that helped me, but he must’ve fallen off the Earth for how much I’ve searched for him, so, as long as you promise not to cause me any trouble, I’ll invite you to stay in my guest room. It isn’t much, but it’s a bed, and you seem like a fine young girl, you shouldn’t have to go out on the streets at this hour.”
“Oh, you’re very kind but I can’t possibly impose on you like this,” she protested.
“It’s already done, you Camelot type are all the same, and what’d you say, you were a knight? All the more reason to honor my offer, eh? Tell you what, if you stay with me for the night, I may have a place to send in the morning to help you find what you’re looking for.”
There was no denying that, and Caira was already feeling the limp fatigue draining the from muscles in her legs to the bones of her shoulders. The idea of a clue caught the knight’s attention and she accepted with the gratitude lining the layers of her words, “Thank you,” the Prime said cordially and offered to do the dishes.
“I’ll set out some clean sheets.”
...
In the morning she was awoken by the gentle rise of the gleaming sun over the water, and the loud ruckus of dishes downstairs in the kitchen behind the shop. It was all one building, a very quaint home and of course, Martha’s tea was to die for. The smell of food mixed with the fragrance of flowers filled her nostrils, and it was a kind she had never tried before. “Pancakes” or so they were called, were what was on the menu for breakfast. Lathered in gooey golden maple syrup.
“You’ve never had pancakes? You haven’t even lived!” the kid burst through the doors, letting the bells chime as they slammed, “Oh and the paper’s here.” He slopped down her copy of the paper and looked at the giant stack of pancakes towering over the wooden table with thin legs, which looked like it might collapse under the weight of all those pancakes. It was a feast fit for kings, and Caira was lucky that the kid with the red shirt ate over half of them since Martha said she was ‘watching her weight’ and only ate one pancake without a cube of butter on the top.
Caira picked up her fork and knife, which let’s admit, will always be a little weird for someone who grew up without having to use utensils, and cut a too big bite of flat dough for herself. It had already been saturated by the liquid sugar and it’s golden color glittered in the morning light. After sticking the fork in her mouth, she pulled it out and let the sweet dough fall on her tongue.
“Mmm! This is delicious,” she said through another mouthful as the flavors danced and mixed with the stray blueberry or sliver of banana. After eating a few, Caira was stuffed. The boy went off, thanking Martha for the meal and saying her pancakes were the best he’d ever had, “I’d have to agree,” Caira said with him out the door.
“Thank you, I rarely have cause to cook them, save for the squirt’s birthday. Now, after we do the dishes and water the flowers, I bet you’re mighty curious about what I have to tell you next.”
It was past three in the evening and after hours of grueling work Dang, flower tending was no small task! when, finally, Martha relinquished her silence (save the helpful advice she gave Caira when trimming a snapping bush, which actually snapped off a tiny chunk of the young girl’s hair.)
“His name is Gary, and no, he’s not a bartender at this saloon, but he’s a drunk who stays there day and night. Thing is, he’s the least drunk of them in there, y’know? I worry about the poor guy, I don’t think the alcohol is doing what he wants it to do for him, but hey, it’s his life. The bar isn’t far from here, just two left turns around the block. Remember, his name is Gary, and he’s got blue eyes and usually wears a hat so I don’t know what color his hair is,” she smiled again, warming the entire room and bringing her flowers to life, “Now, I don’t know if he’ll be able to help you, but if anyone in town is an astronomer, Gary knows him, or knows where to find him.”
“Of course, thank you Martha so much for your hospitality, is there any way I can repay you?” Caira offered with earnest intention.
“One way, Miss Ayryn, if you ever find Gildarts, you tell him Martha’s been waiting for him to come visit for practically months. That’s the prime that helped me, you see. He’s a very kind fellow, no temper really, but if he catches you mistreating some silly old flower shop keeper, you’re toast,” Martha giggled as Caira waved and walked out the door.
Two lefts, right? That wasn’t so hard, except that now there was about two thousand people filling the cobblestone streets, it must’ve been a farmer’s market every day, for no one in the city looked at all discomforted by the commotion, save the girl in the single layer of black.
“Ouch!” A knee landed on her shin, while two elbows shoved their way into her ribs. Making her way downtown, and she couldn’t walk any faster to get out of this mess. It was nice though, since she more or less, had cover of the crowd. Not that she was being followed, but with Martha’s warning and the way the guild had treated her with their trials, it was peculiar business indeed, these stars that fell from the heavens...
“Two dollars for a loaf of sourdough! Three for a fresh baked apple pie! Excuse me miss, are you interested in eating any fish?” a merchant leaned closer to the woman, his nose just barely inches from scathing hers.
“N-no, I just ate some last night,” Caira gulped, feeling his eyes as an owl’s boring into her soul.
“Okay! Come again!” the man said and Caira walked off, eyeing the man who had given her shivers. She never liked crowds, and well, this entire street was one calamitous cloud of them. Click click. her shoes carried her, yes, two city blocks left of the cute little flower store she had departed from, and there it was, her destination and it was unmistakable. A big sign hung on the front of it, but the words weren’t in a language she was familiar with. It was German, and they seemed to scramble up and around the wooden sign with a curved and fading font.
Her long legs carried her inside the wooden building, opening the door, she smelt the pungency of alcohol’s odor and dank air. “Hey!” there was a cheers as two men raised their glasses and a third put on a spoiled expression. “Bet’s off Jeremy, you lose. Your odds are nothing compared to my luck. It was a lady who walked in the door.”
“Yeah, yeah, round’s on me,” he groveled.
Caira’s steps didn’t skip a beat as she strode to the front, her eyes catching on the gorgeous blonde bartender with a ski-slope nose. She had no intention of sitting down, but the Prime on task, realized there were certain rules when you came to places like these. Even when you knew you didn’t belong.
“Ain’t she a little underage?” the groveling man asked his friends for a re-match to his two friends who immediately said, “No deal.”
There was a bit of commotion stirring in the bar, the paper had come, and apparently, there was some old news on the front of it, though, Caira wouldn’t have known the difference if Omni was out of power by now, she’d just met him, after all and it seemed like yesterday.
“What can I do for you?” the blonde approached Caira with kind eyes and a smile that accented her cheekbones.
“Hi, could I get a glass of uh, milk?”
Jeremy and the groveling man snickered, Caira felt her eyes widen in embarrassment. Before she could blink the ice-cold glass appeared before her, and the blonde was walking in the opposite direction! She took a few sips and hoped to get the bartender’s attention when she came back around. For now, her ears were loaded with the sounds of many people talk, while her eyes scoped the room for the one man wearing a hat.
“This fella apparently blew up an entire town in Camelot! Killed a few dozen people too! Gosh you just don’t know how crazy the other verses are until you read it in the paper!” A chorus of men responded with laughter while Caira seemed horrified. Camelot was her home.
“Bull shit!” A drunken man called out while Caira searched for this ‘paper’ they were all reading. Would it be in German just like this bar?
“No, it happened, not only is it in this article but I have connections in the Kingdom and apparently it was something that couldn’t have been prevented.” The Prime’s blood was boiling already, it sounded like an all-out massacre.
“He fled the scene after, done and got ‘imself a bounty ‘e did,” someone continued, hiccuped, and grabbed another flask.
“If it’s so true then what’s his name?” someone challenged.
“Everyone calls him Gildarts.”
Caira’s ears rung at the sound of the name, at the same time another man seemed to have dropped his glass, on himself, the bartendress hustled over with a clean cloth and began to pat the man, while Caira looked at the the newspaper a few feet away from her, a paper had fallen out of it in the commotion, it was a wanted picture with a man who’s hair was the color of smoldering flames, and a dark menace had been drawn in his eyes. Below, the number on his head and on the side of that, the very name they had just spoken.
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