Private Tales A Life to Live

[Chasmine]

This garnered Edric no small amount of curious and strange looks as the man sat alone, reading a menu aloud. Chasmine, of course, was entirely ignorant to such since she was still occupying the book and merely listening to his words. She'd only been expecting him to summarize some things, maybe pick one or two from the list that looked interesting.

Not read the entire thing.

The spirit stirred in her book, equally endeared and enthralled to hear such a great variety of things. There was so much. The Academy had not provided a very robust menu to begin with, so Chasmine had found it quite difficult to eat a full meal with her otherwise limited diet options. This is what had forced her into practicing plant magic on the side and lead her into growing gardens of herbs, vegetables, and other things of dubious nature.

Wishing to be alive was a daily thing, but now more than ever she wished she could partake in the selection.

"Ohh," she sighed wistfully, "that all sounds lovely. What a wonderful place to live."

 

[Edric]

"Seems like a pretty big intersection." Edric agreed, placing his order not soon after.

The conversation was simple, quiet, even if everyone around him thought him insane. Ed had never much cared about what others thought, least of all folk he'd never seen again. His meal came not soon after he'd ordered, and by the time night fell completely he'd already paid.

Stepping out onto the street, Mallian seemed colder than he'd thought it would be at night. The sea air coming from the eastern seas cutting harsher than those of the west. He wondered why that was. "Glad I got that cabin."

He murmured.

Edric couldn't freeze or nothing, but that didn't mean he liked being cold.

 

[Chasmine]

She would be thinking about that list of produce for a long time.

So much so, Chas asked Edric to slip a copy of it into his bag so she could read over it again another time. If she couldn't actually partake in the eating, she could do the next best thing: imagine it.

"It will be nice to leave the book for a bit," she said in reply to his words. Cold made no difference to a ghost, but even ghosts apparently got cabin fever. For her, there was nothing she could discern between occupying the book versus occupying the previous amulet Edric had worn. They felt the same - simply a safe pocket to retreat to where others within the spirit realm could not easily find her.

But if incorporeal entities could feel cramped... well, she supposed that's what she was feeling. A restlessness to move freely and experience at least a little bit of the realm beyond.

As Edric walked along the streets and took in the evening view of the waters beyond, he'd notice some uniformed officials moving about. Some were hanging wanted signs while others were mingling among the foot traffic.

"Have you seen this man?" spoken in near a dozen languages.

The poster showed a very familiar face upon it.

 

[Edric]

They had talked about this.

Edric had been in the middle of saying something back to Chasmine when he noticed the voices calling out. His muscles tensed, but they had known that it might come to this. Mallian was a big trade city, nothing like Alliria, but the only thing like it on this side of the world.

There had always been a chance. At least the posters of him were old, making him look like he was still seventeen. These must have been just made after graduation. It made sense, they would have been made with old prints. "This was a good idea."

He remarked, looking at the poster while scratching his beard.

Lingering only for a few moments longer, Edric shook his head and then headed towards the docks.

The Rogue Dreadlord didn't rush or run. He didn't sprint or hurry. Instead he meandered slowly through the streets, letting the small bit of alcohol he'd drunk stumble through his step. By the time anyone thought there was a resemblance between himself and the poster he would be long to sea.

As Chas had said, there was no need for violence.

 

[Chasmine]

Before leaving port, Chasmine bid Ed to do one small favor: collect one of his wanted posters.

"Why not?" she said to him when he presented said poster and asked the obvious question of why.

"Now we know what they know," Chas continued, manifested in his cabin with a great amount of form and detail for the fount of energy available within the city. She gestured to the poster so that it drifted up into the air before her, hovering just beyond her ghostly reach, "and clearly they do not know you have a beard."

That was good. But also he looked much more like what she remembered of him from her last days at the Academy. The depiction was that of a younger Edric, before joining the exiles and striking out on his own. Chasmine turned to face Edric, the poster following, and looked between the flat ink version and that of the real version standing before her.

"I prefer the beard," she said then as if telling a Waitress she preferred house salad over Cobb, "although it does make your eyes stand out more. Perhaps we should find you a hat."