Fate - First Reply Sunshine, and All That Brings Happiness

[Maxi Ardune]

Across the rugged and rocky badlands, north of the Baal-Duru River, they walked. Their reward awaited them in Annuakat.

"I'm actually new at this myself," said Ashara Yonnel admitted, demurely rubbing the back of her neck as they went.

Maxi just smiled. Looked back to her and said, "Ahhh, can't be. You're pulling my leg. You're way too good of a shot to be new. You could teach me some things. The Six know I could use it."

"My Pa was a great hunter," Ashara said, blushing still. "He'd stalk herds of addax for days. It's easy to do that along the lush riverbanks of the Baal-Duru, but out in the open deserts? Phew! You really need your one shot to count."

"He taught you well."

"He did, Maxi, he did."

Both Maxi and Ashara had answered the call of a young Annuakat nobleman. He had been looking for someone to take care of some dirty work, retrieving a heirloom amulet that he, in a drunken haze, had sold off to some shady nomads for coppers on the gold coin. As the nobleman had anticipated, the nomads weren't willing to sell it back. So Maxi and Ashara had gotten into a scrap with them and took back the nobleman's property. The job would've been very difficult, if not impossible, for either of them to do alone. But together, success was theirs.

"Your Pa still around?"

"He is," Ashara said. "He lives in Annuakat, and...well, there's quite a few days where I go to him to have a roof over my head."

Maxi was going to mention perhaps meeting him, learning archery from him too, and he still had a mind to do so. But Ashara hit on something a bit nearer and dearer to him: the struggle to make ends meet. Still he smiled, spoke with the tone of a cool breeze on a hot day, "Everything doesn't always go as smoothly as this mission, huh?"

"No. No it doesn't," Ashara said, glancing down a touch woefully. "Is this your first mission? As a bounty hunter? Mercenary? Hedge...cat-man knight," she laughed lightly, "whichever it was? Sorry, you told me, and I forgot. I'm awful."

Easy as anything, Maxi replied, "All is well. I can't say I haven't forgotten a thing or two myself. Bounty hunter. And, yes, this is my first mission. My first real mission, I suppose. A few other times it just didn't work out, for one reason or another."

"Oh. I know. Someone better comes along, or the requester doesn't like the look of you and cancels on you, or someone beats you to it because the requester just sent everybody who came asking."

"I think I've got all three of those to my name." Maxi gave a playful shrug. "Guess I'm not so new after all."

They shared a laugh, and into the welcome shade of a large, ruddy red rock formation they went. Through the shadow they walked, Maxi in the lead and Ashara behind him.

"Well, congratulations on your first mission done and done."

"Thank you."

"Some advice I learned early," said Ashara, "is that gold is better when it doesn't—"

Maxi whirled around threw a hard fist straight into Ashara's teeth; his ears had picked up the quiet draw of her knife and he didn't wait for her to finish talking. The force of his own punch sent him down to the ground with her. He climbed atop her, straddling her, and kept slamming his fist down into her face again and again. She drove the knife into his side and Maxi didn't care and he just kept punching. He broke his hand from having hit her so hard and so often, and without a second's pause he switched to bashing her face further in with vicious strikes of his elbow. One. Two. Three. Four, even.

When at last he drew back his explosive fury, Ashara, though her face was an inhuman pulp of blood, torn flesh, and battered bone, gurgled just the tiniest bit. Maxi reached over with his uninjured left hand and procured a stone and drove it down into her skull. He caved it in and at last she was still.

He sat there. Panting from the effort.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," he said, giving her body one last smile. He patted her down looking for the heirloom amulet. She didn't have it. He rose, clutching his side, and began to stagger back the way they had come.

* * * * *​

Maxi trekked back toward the little village he and Ashara had spent the night in before departing this morning: Zudal. He appeared as a lone figure at the village's periphery, walking with a wounded gait. Still that knife was in his side, for he knew not to pull it out until he could get help. And he needed help. Desperately. His normally tanned skin was paling, a large portion of blood staining red his pants of his left leg.

Maxi struggled to keep his eyes open as he neared the village. His vision blurred. Some silhouette, or silhouettes maybe, were approaching him. He couldn't really tell. He just hoped they would help him, or at least find him someone who could.

Because he needed to recover from his wound first.

Before he went in search of just who Ashara had handed the amulet off to.

 

[Masika]

She was laughing when she first saw the dark silhouette on the horizon. The heat of the sun was wonderful on her deep skin that only seemed to get darker and darker instead of red. Like bread in the oven, every minute making the crust deeper and stronger. Masika wondered if she laid out in the sun for days and days if her skin would begin to look like her hair.

She giggled at the thought. Imagine her, the same rich black throughout her whole entire body. Even the whites of her eyes would be dark and meld with the dark brown of her eyes. She’d look like a shadow. She could probably tease some people with it.

Rahma would be fun to tease! She could already imagine the way he would huff and puff at her from her silliness. His ears would flatten against his head and he’d show his canines as if that would ever frighten her. Then he would…. Masika squinted her eyes. Was someone approaching her? No, surely not her. It had to be for the town.

It was then that Masika remembered she was trying to specifically go to the small, grudgingly there inn: The Pompous Hawk. Yet she had gotten lost, and had forgotten where she was going, so she ended up far on the outskirts of Zudal. Masika was very thankful for this person, and how amazing! They was exactly like how she had pictured herself, all one color and burnt by the sun. Once more, Masika thought about the silly joke she could play with her coworkers and the reactions they would have as the silhouette continued their slow pace towards her. It must have been a elder, judging by the way they walked.

She spent some time giggling to herself, thinking of the fancy words that Arash might say, and giggled some more. The figure seemed to be limping, now that she was closer, that was how it seemed. Heatstroke? She saw that plenty with merchants and travelers who weren’t truly prepared for the sun. Or were they just hunched over?

Creeping ever closer, Masika felt that the figure was a man. She could see his clothing now. How nice. It was wonderful to see the elderly still getting their exercise! Masika began picking up her own pace. She wanted to wish him a good day and keep cheering him on!

Finally, she saw the blood, or rather she noticed it then. It had always been there, she supposed, but she was close to the man now, close enough to see the folds of his clothes and pick out the individual way his hair fell over his head. Why hadn’t he called out for help?

“By the Six!” Masika sprinted to him now, not thinking much of the question that she cared little for. He was injured. The sun was in her eyes, the breeze dry and hot yet comforting. She was frowning as she ran, sweat glistening under the sun and making her skin look bronze and glowing like the buildings of Ragash. Oh she couldn’t wait to go back home!

But first to help this… maybe not so old man.

“You have a knife sticking out of you!” Masika exclaimed.

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

"Yeah," Maxi wheezed, "there's a funny story about how it got there."

All he could really see of the—girl? woman? he only knew from her voice—was vague shape against the background of badlands and sky, a fuzzy apparition which his weak and unfocused eyes couldn't bring any clear definition to.

He armed sweat from his brow and blinked rapidly but this did little to bring clarity to the person with whom he was speaking.

And, almost as if he were merely a traveler on a normal day, taking a leisurely walk in pursuit of some destination, this despite the heavy burden of pain and exhaustion intruding on his tone, he said, "Does Zudal...have an apothecary?" He tried to smile, but his lips pursed and a wince rumbled in his throat. "I didn't need one yesterday."

It'd make for a prudent practice to be more observant in the future. And if not, then he'd have a funny story to tell in the afterlife, different to the one with Ashara. Imagine: no apothecary after trekking back all this way. Ah, shoulda made a note of that! The humor of the story seemed to write itself.

Masika

 

[Masika]

Masika stood in front of Maxi, arms beginning to reach out to then only stop midway. Her dark eyes looked over the man as he spoke, lingering the longest at the dagger in his side and the stain of red in his clothing. She didn’t know how he could be so funny while bleeding out. The grave situation at hand wouldn’t let her laugh.

All she could think about was a apothecary. Flustered, her hands were brought up to press coarse fingers into her temple. She took a step forward, then a step back, looking over her shoulder at Zudal. She thought there was one, but what if she was mistaking Zudal as another town. Then again, there had to be. This was one of the largest villages before Annuakat, plenty of travelers stopped here.

It would only make sense. And if her memory did serve her correct, she had come across it in this town, right where she had entered. Glancing over her shoulder before looking back at the injured man, Masika made up her mind then. He needed her aid. She stepped forward and hands gingerly went to his arm and shoulder to keep him upright.

“I believe so.” Masika said, her voice void of the usual ebullience. “On the other side of Zudal I think there is one.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t mean to be rude but you are not walking as fast as you should. Really, you should be running.” But he couldn’t, could he? Masika sucked in air through her teeth. Why had she said something so foolish? “I can carry you there. If you get on my back, I’m certain I could get you there quickly.” She’d have to remove her mace axe to make it comfortable but it would be a decent solution in not wasting any further time.

It would also, if the gods were so kind today, allow Masika to traverse Zudal as fast as she could without looking like she didn’t know where she was going. Or that she was prone to taking wrong turns.

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

Should be running. Yeah, the point of that was pretty clear: you don't have a lot of time, Maxi, and she can see that you don't have a lot of time. Even his ears were laying nearly limp against his hair, what with him putting everything he had into his legs and simply keeping upright. Somewhere along the trek from where the scuffle went down and here at the outskirts of Zudal, he shifted more from physical strength to spiritual will as his source to just keep going. He didn't know if he much of either left now.

Which was why her offer to carry him was so welcome. Six make her one of the Hundreds, because she was the blessing he needed right now.

"I'm light on my feet," Maxi said. "Maybe I'll be light on your back."

With a certain imprecision he held out his hands, doing what he could to make the effort of carrying him as smooth as possible. His left hand was soaked in his own blood, and his right had a few of its fingers twisted unnaturally—this along with the patch of dried blood adorning his right elbow. Little hints of the tale.

Masika

 

[Masika]

She looked at his hands, only understanding the blood and severity of blood being where it shouldn’t be. Twisted fingers didn’t frighten her as she turned her back towards the injured man and squatted down low. It would be easy for him to get onto her back this way, especially once she removed her mace axe and it’s sling over her head. She dropped her mace-axe onto the ground beside her. She’d pick it up later. The moment his legs were on either side of her, she’d move her arms in preparation to bend at his knees and hold him up.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry if you’re heavy.” Masika said, easily standing up from her squat. Her thighs didn’t even shake as she righted herself up. As gently as she could she shifted her arms to make him more comfortable. The hold she had on him was tight and secure even as she hunched over. “Which you are not. Lie against me and close your eyes.” It was a gentle suggestion. She took a deep breath, dark eyes centering on Zudal.

Her thighs twitched. Masika took the first step as she exhaled that hot breath she held deepin her belly, warming herself up. She ran as fast as she could, the dry air that had been so still now feeling like a fierce wind that whipped at their faces. Each step she took seemed to blur into the next, a staccato that echoed in their ears and made it impossible to understand her stride.

Not even her own shadow would have been able to keep up with her.

One of her cheap sandals broke off from her ankle and then slipped off her foot entirely. It clattered away but Masika continued on. Running barefoot, even on some questionable terrain, hadn’t ever bothered her. It wouldn’t bother her now, especially as she entered Zudal.

The roads here were more packed but nothing like the major cities. Compared to the crowded streets of Ragash it was easy to swerve through the oncoming traffic here. The streets may have been more narrow and there were sharper turns to be made, but Masika was swift enough to move without hindering anyone. Although she got quite a few curses thrown her way, she moved so quickly she didn’t have time to hear more than the first word.

As she went deeper into Zudal, a town that seemed to be built as if on a spiral and had to reflect such a tight coil, there were a few times when she had to skid to a halt and turn back around to then run the opposite way. Some things looked familiar, some things did not. Did these buildings only look familiar because she had recently ran past them? Was she going in circles? Where had she entered from exactly? Another wrong turn. Then another and another.

She stopped running, dust kicking up around her. Masika was breathing hard, sweat dripping down the back of her neck and brow. Still, her hold on the injured man was the same.

“I’m lost. Again. Forgive me, I need to think.” She panted, so close to where she needed to be yet having no idea whether she should turn left or right. Would thinking even help her at this point?

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

There was no comfort to be had in being lifted up and carried, aside from the assurance that his pain and plight would sooner be over once they found that apothecary. Maxi winced as his feet left the ground and his weight from being so carried on the woman's back shifted, but he made the effort thereafter to keep such wincing and groaning under wraps. Sure the run wreaked a jostling hell on his wound, but that was no reason to go messing up the woman's day (wasn't all the blood she'd get on her enough?) by filling her ear with all the noises of agony. Pain didn't rule him; he ruled him. So at most came some suppressed rumblings in his throat, and some heavy breaths out through his nose, nestled as it was in the crook of the woman's shoulder and neck, for he couldn't much bear to keep his head aloft and thus had it come to rest.

Though he couldn't much see even if he was looking up, his ears let him know that they were back in Zudal. To Maxi it almost seemed like they had teleported there, for even before he'd stumbled onto the woman outside the village had his sense of time become more and more loose.

He wasn't thinking about dying until, tangentially, the subject was touched upon when the woman stopped and said she was lost. Maxi until then had just entertained sporadic thoughts about, obviously, the pain of the knife in his side, about how nice Ashara was, about how nice this new woman was, and about finding the heirloom—Ashara, yesterday evening, had mentioned going to meet a local friend before returning to the inn.

But with the woman admitting she was lost, ah, well, it was just prudent to think about what might happen.

Maxi basically spoke into Masika's shoulder, saying, "Hey, if I die...can you return me to Annuakat...I'd like to be buried...with my family."

Masika

 

[Masika]

The guilt she felt at this moment was reflected in her dark eyes. She didn’t want him thinking about dying already, even though some time had passed and Masika had no clue where she was, surely he wasn’t on death’s doorstep just yet, was he? There was a dampness on her that she realized wasn’t just sweat. A metallic tang that only now she recognized.

“I’m sorry.” She said and then again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, give me…” a second? A minute? He didn’t have time, no matter how small she thought it to be. With this nervousness, and the looming possibility of a man dying on her back growing greater and greater, Masika wished she was brighter or sharper or whatever it was that meant she was smarter.

It was during the middle of her lamenting that a lone woman with a woven basket that was covered had decided to step out from a home in front of Masika. She must have been favored in this moment, surely could there have been greater divine intervention? Well, if it had been Mistress Medja instead then yes, there could have been.

“I’ll ask for directions.” There was no need to tell him when she called out for the woman to wait. The woman turned around, made a face that at first looked disgruntled but quickly turned into wide-eyed alarm.

“What do you want?” She seemed frightened. Masika didn’t much care, briskly walking towards her. The woman seemed to hide her basket behind as if Masika were to snatch it and run away with it while carrying a dying man on her back. Did Zudal have a crime problem? Focus, Masika, focus!

“Is there an apothecary here?”

“Yes.” The woman looked suspiciously over the duo. “Why?”

“I— he’s… what do you mean why? I need directions to go there, please.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not joking! It’s very serious and—“ the woman pointed past Masika’s left shoulder. Masika turned around. There was a building, dark curtains drawn over the only window. It looked abandoned although if one looked closer they would see that there was no debris or spiderweb in the crooks and crannies of the lopsided building. Most importantly was the yellow paint of a simplified image of za'atar. She was already here! How wonderful! “Oh, thank you, thank you.” And many more words of thanks tumbled from Masika’s mouth as she wasted no more time to bring the man to a place that could hopefully help him.

“Forgive me,” she had to shift him on her back once more as she hunched over more to hold him up while she opened the door. She had no time to waste on knocking. A small bell pealed out as Masika stepped inside and the door fell short behind them.

Inside the apothecary, if there was a name for it Masika was unable to read it, was a coolness that reminded Masika of joining Abasi under the shade of his favorite cypress tree. A bitter, medicinal smell with a undertone that was too close to cat piss caused Masika to wrinkle up her nose. There was a certain dryness in the dark room as if the dried herbs hanging along the walls and ceiling were sucking out all the moisture. In the center of the room was a small chandelier made of a variety of cheap rocks and crystals that Masika could find in a old river bed.

“Master out! Come back!” A squeak of a voice through teeth followed by a snort came from behind the counter. Masika only took a step forward. Low, wooden shelves and stools that were used to reach high places were the only other items of interest other than whatever was behind the counter.

“I can’t. He’s bleeding to death. Can I lay him down somewhere?” A small, reptilian head the color of senna pods and dried lentils popped up, scales turning chartreuse underneath the single flame in the center of the chandelier. Emerald green snake eyes glittered curiously and a snout wiggled. Aquatic looking cheek frills widened then shortened as if it would help the creature decide whether or not to help him.

“Pay Zekda. Pretty shinies. Hmm? Huh? Pay?” Another snort, something that seemed to tickle the back of the throat.

“Yes, yes, he’ll pay you.” Masika wouldn’t, or rather she couldn’t. She was broke. And already missing a sandal. And her mace-axe was left behind. She should have found a way to carry that with her but she had been so frazzled. The little kobold climbed up over the wooden counter and started stomping excitedly. Her green tail wiggled and her three fingers seemed to do the same.

“Come, hah!” Some strange grunting and snorting of excitement interrupted the rest of the sentence. “Back! Follow Zekda, gah!” There was a squeal and a chirp as Zekda jumped over the counter to go into a back room. More snorting could be heard but Masika did as she was told, going behind the counter and through a red-beaded curtain. She only hoped whoever was the real owner of this apocathary (everything was built to accommodate a human more than a kobold) would come back soon.

A table far longer than it was wide was in the center of the room, with another door leading elsewhere to the left. There were more shelves here, although these shelves were far bigger than the shelves in the main room. Masika got close to the table, turning her back to it and tenderly lowered the bleeding stranger so he could sit on the table.

“Pokey stabby. Ha!” Zekda harrumphed then and stomped one foot before beginning to run around the room, collecting various items and haphazardly throwing them onto the low table. The kobold even threw a glass jar filled with something that looked like blood onto the table. Masika caught it before it could break.

“And when do you think your master will be back? Soon? Did they leave a long time ago or a little time ago?” Masika asked, a nervous chuckle following afterwards. The kobold stopped and looked back at Masika as she was climbing up to the top shelf of one particularly tall cabinet.

“Zekda master now.”

“Oh.” Masika said. She glanced down at the man, knelt down by him and whispered, “I promise to bring you to Annuakat. Do not worry, I am very good at digging.”

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

"Yeah, I'll pay you," Maxi said in his fading voice, backing up Masika's assertion to the same. "I don't like to have debts."

That second part was certainly true. The problem was that the first part was doubtful enough to frustrate the efforts of the second part. He had all of two coins currently to his name; he would have had a few more if he hadn't bought Ashara a drink yesterday, but she had bought him one before that, so it felt good to give her a gift too. As for the apothecary here? Zekda? Was that her name? He wasn't entirely sure, her voice had an odd quality to it that made it hard to follow. Well, for Zekda, everything hinged on him tracking down that heirloom and completing his first freelancer contract—then he could actually pay her and the apothecary the sum they were likely to charge for their services.

Maxi only vaguely remembered Masika setting him down on the table or sitting there on the table. It was as though this were the mere suggestion of a moment in his life, there and gone, acting only as the faintest thread connecting his being perched on Masika's back and him, now, lying flat on the table. His tail he felt limply hanging over the table's edge, and he tried to focus on that, that free hanging feel, to shift his attention off the agony in his side.

Then came the revelation that Zekda wasn't the apothecary's assistant. She was the apothecary.

Maxi opened his eyes and looked toward the woman, that gracious woman, who'd helped him by carrying him all this way. It was all about the spirit of the thing; even if he died, it didn't make her any less good for what she'd done for him. But it would help if she actually knew where to go in Annuakat.

"Maxim Ardune," he said. "But everybody calls me Maxi."

He tried to smile.

"Maybe you could write on the headstone, 'He didn't have beginner's luck twice.'"

Masika

 

[Masika]

The green kobold was still climbing up and down the various cabinets and shelves, jumping up and down, from side to side, continuing on her mission in collecting everything she wanted. She was still throwing items with little care about and Masika put it on herself to catch anything flying through the air.

“Maxi, that’s a nice name, isn’t it?” Masika said. It was a bit like her own name when others called her Masi, and most people did just call her Masi, especially around Ragash. “Does someone in your family know how to write? I am, ohh, how do you say… illiterate?” Was that the right word for it? It sounded like it was. “But I could write Maxi! It’s like my name, Masika.”

“Yahoo!” Zekda launched herself off from the tallest shelf in the entire room, aiming to land on Maxi’s stomach. Masika caught the little kobold before she could and was surprised by how heavy the kobold actually was. Zekda squirmed in Masika’s arms until she was set down. “Wash hands.” Zekda said and then shoved one of her scaly hands into her own green maw, pink snake tongue slithering in between her three fingers.

“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to…” Masika began but didn’t finish as the bell from the front door tinkled before the door slammed shut.

“Zekda! What til you see this beauty of a crystal!” The kobold’s eyes widened but she stuck her other hand in her mouth anyways. A heavy shuffling and something dragging along the floor could be heard. “Zekda, you in here?” The red beaded curtain was pushed aside and Masika turned.

A short man— although if he stood up straight perhaps he wouldn’t look as short as he did, but his curved back that rounded well into his shoulders would prevent him from good posture— with a thick, bushy beard. He had large hands, hands that seemed to big for him, and in one hand was a large sack filled with something small yet heavy.

“Master!” The other hands was free from her mouth. The man took quick inventory of the room, glancing at Masika and Maxi. He let go of his hold on the sack.

“Move.” He said to Masika, holding out his hand and letting Zekda lick his hands clean. He was already inspecting Maxi’s side, fingers tracing around the wound of the dagger. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.” The man said to Maxi, and then to the kobold, “where’s the mortar and pestle?” Zekda squeaked and scampered off. “Good thing you didn’t pull this out, you’d be dead by now.” He used a small knife to cut off Maxi’s clothing around the knife. “Your hand needs fixing, too, fingers are all broken. But first thing’s first.” He pulled the knife out while Zekda placed a black marble mortar and pestle near her master.

In minutes, the man had already made a bitter-smelling poultice for the wound, a more watery concoction for something else, and was sewing Maxi’s wound up. It wasn’t until Maxi’s midsection was bandaged and some chant involving amethyst and carnelian being rubbed over the wound that the healer would relax.

“Now, if you can drink this….” The healer held up the dark red concoction in a small bowl to Maxi’s lips. “You shouldn’t eat any nightshades,” the healer rambled on, “or anything with too much salt. Have you thought about wearing amazonite? I make these trinkets, see,” he held out the various necklaces he wore around his neck and there were even more around his wrists, “and I have a amazonite bracelet I could part with.”

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

I am, ohh, how do you say... illiterate?

"I'm not that good at reading and writing either," Maxi said. He vividly remembered pretending to read the contract Thurbin Hofnel had rolled out before him years ago. Some of it he understood, little fragments of written Common here and there, but not enough to truly understand what he was getting into—that was all explained in greater detail after he'd signed (more like scribbled) some semblance of his name on the parchment. Maybe if he'd read the contract again now he'd know a bit better just how much he'd gotten a raw deal.

Here and now though. If anything, Masika could just write her own name on the headstone. It was close enough, right? That'd probably be a bad portent though...maybe misspell it to throw off the bad omen.

In short time, Zekda's little fib about being the master of the apothecary shop was proven wrong. The vague shape of the elder gentleman came into view, but more so his presence was announced by his voice, distinct as it was. Then it just came to Maxi enduring the surgical work that followed.

At last when it was over, Maxi—meekly—propped himself up onto his elbows and drank of the dark red concoction. He had no idea what it was, and the taste had a certain undefinable unpleasantness to it; but that's how it went, what's good for you didn't always feel good.

Have you thought about wearing amazonite? I have an amazonite bracelet I could part with.

Amazonite? Maxi, blinking (hey, things weren't so blurry and faded now), hoping that Masika or Zekda could elucidate, said humbly in response, "I don't know what that word is."

Masika

 

[Masika]

“What word?” The healer interjected before Masika could say anything. She was having a hard time following his words and looked at Maxi with the same blank expression.

“Uhm.” She said, taking a step forward as if that could make the healer look over at her. “Excuse me?”

“What do you want?” He didn’t even turn to look at her and instead pulled off his chalky sea foam green bracelet and held it up to Maxi’s face.

“The cost of the treatment?” Masika pressed. “How much does he owe you?”

“Oh, not much. Three gold.” Her jaw dropped. Three gold? Three. Gold. Gold?! Zekda came by and tugged on Masika’s loose harem pants.

“Shinies for Zekda!” The kobold insisted.

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

Suppose he didn't need to know what amazonite was. He certainly wasn't going to be buying any bracelet made of it, no matter how cheap, if he couldn't even afford what treatment he'd already been given.

Three gold. And he had one silver and one copper. Not much. He did have an idea, maybe, one he just now came up with. But it'd take a little time and trust.

"I don't have three gold," said Maxi to the master. "But I can get three gold, if you give me a couple of hours and..." trying to figure a way to make the deal better, he pointed to his recurve bow, both that and the shoddy quiver of arrows leaning beside the table, "...maybe you hold on to my bow? To keep me honest."

Collateral would've been a useful word there, if only Maxi knew it. He had thought about making a little joke there, offering Masika to the master to keep as collateral instead of his bow, but that probably wouldn't have been very funny to the woman he knew for all of about thirty minutes.

Masika

 

[Masika]

There was a long span of silence. Masika didn’t say anything because what could she say? She supposed healing wasn’t cheap. She also supposed that Maxi didn’t look the type to hold much money on him.

“What do you mean you don’t have it?” The healer asked quietly. There was something frightening by how quiet his voice had become and how he didn’t ramble on about things that would soon be forgotten. “Why come here if you can’t pay? Why would I want your bow?” He pressed further in that same quiet, tiny tone. He turned to look towards Masika. “Do you have it?” She did not.

“Well, you see… he… was… robbed?” She didn’t know why but she was standing at attention as if the healer was Abasi and asking Masika for the fifth time why she thought it was a good idea to see how many walnuts she could shove into her mouth despite the last four times having almost choked to death. She was pushing her shoulders so far back that Masika was glad she didn’t have a bountiful chest like other girls or else the healer would assume she was trying to seduce him. Instead it just made her look like she had to take a piss really bad.

“So you don’t have it either.” The bearded man sighed and looked at Zekda. “What did I tell you? Ask for their coin purse first and then help them.” The kobold made a sound that sounded like she was worried and apologetic all at once and she scratched at the horns on her head, neck frills flapping sheepishly. Once more he sighed. He picked up Maxi’s bow and then looked at Masika, only just realizing that she had one sandal and nothing on her that seemed appealing to take. Except…

“Give me that poppy-topaz anklet of yours.” He held out his hand and Masika blanched, her well-tanned skin appearing sallow and pale. “Or else I’ll be forced to curse you both.” Masika glanced at Maxi. Cursed? Oh, curses were awful things. Masika frowned deeply but complied, lifting up her left foot to unclasp the anklet of hers, the cheap bronze chain that held the small topaz in the shape of the sun. She dropped it with a wistful look into the healer’s palm.

“Now then.” He pocketed the anklet. “Both of you. Out. And no amazonite for you!”

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

So the collateral idea didn't work. Even Masika's little lie didn't work. And further still, Zekda the kobold suffered a bit from the wrath of the master by not taking coin up front. Seemed like he got burned on that a few times in the past.

Burned hard enough to threaten both of them with a curse. Maxi's ears pricked up as soon as he heard that, and his heart gave a little bit of a start. These were the things he didn't like to mess around with: angering the gods, flirting with bad fortune, and all things occult.

Masika though...wow, she really came through.

Maxi had an awful time raising himself up from the table when they were shooed out the Zudal's humble apothecary. His wound might have been mended, but its soreness was still keen, and moreover he still felt like a sack of bricks. A bit of rest is what he really needed, but he sure wasn't going to find any hospitality in the apothecary, that was for sure.

Outside, bow on his back and hand clutched to his wounded side, Maxi glanced over to Masika and said, "Sorry you had to do that. That anklet—was it worth much to you?"

Masika

 

[Masika]

She had walked out with a slow, dopey gait. Her face held a sort of befuddlement as if she had just been asked to solve a marble’s average speed if it rolled five-point-two meters in one-point-eight seconds. Just as she couldn’t answer that, she also couldn’t comprehend how in a matter of one-point-eight seconds she had lost her anklet.

Masika didn’t even feel the sun on her face, a feeling that always made her smile out of habit yet her lips remained downturned and pursed. It was Maxi’s question that made broke her out of simple thoughts and she glanced at him, brows raising up. There was a pause as if she hadn’t quite heard him. Before he would feel the need to repeat himself, she wiped at her brow.

“Yes.” Masika said and then laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck anxiously. “Although I guess I could have refused if I found it to be that important.” Another tinkle of laughter that didn’t match her warrior build. “Abasi always used to say I didn’t know something was gone until I missed it.” That was how the saying went, didn’t it? Close enough if not.

“And I left my mace-axe.” She mused further, only then realizing that she had a considerable amount of blood on her. She looked at her palm that had a splotch of it and glanced at her attire, seeing the dirty cotton stained with a darkening red-brown. “But a life saved is more important than material things.” Even if the anklet had once belonged to a mother she never met and the mace-axe was a gift from Abasi. “How are you feeling now? I don’t still need to bury you now, do I?”

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

Maxi felt a small pang of regret when Masika said yes. His mind in one corner already set about to working out some plan to steal back the anklet from the apothecary (and leaving that three gold he said he could get in its place), but this was something for a possible future.

But a life saved is more important than material things. Sometimes that was true.

Then came her question.

"Not unless that apothecary poisoned me out of spite." And as to how he was feeling, he spoke the thought he'd had only just a moment ago. "I still feel like a sack of bricks."

All that blood staining Masika's clothing, staining her palm, discoloring Maxi's own pants in a great reddish-black tide, all of it attested to the brush with his own mortality. Saved from plummeting off that precipice, he nevertheless didn't yet have that lost blood back in him, so with it came an unpleasant lightheadedness, a nausea, a heavy fatigue and sluggish movement, a chill to match his slightly unhealthy pallor. Unburdened with the necessity to get the apothecary his money quickly, now he could just do what he needed: rest. It'd put him further behind the trail of Ashara's accomplice, but he didn't have a choice.

He gave a small glance up and down the environs of Zudal. Then back to her.

"I wasn't planning on staying another night at the inn, so I don't have the coin for that," he said; what little he had needed to go toward food. "Maybe I'll go knock on a few doors. Folks can be hospitable. And if that doesn't work I'll find a nice pocket of shade," he smiled and added, "without scorpions."

Masika

 

[Masika]

There was a slight pause from Masika, although the silence lingered for seconds while she looked over Maxi and herself.

“We both look like we just murdered someone.” A nervous titter. In a way, Masika had just come back from a murdering spree, but it was for a good cause! Mistress Medja wouldn’t have sent her to a siege unless it was something for the Empire to benefit in. Besides, it had been a valuable learning experience for her as a future emerald hand. She had learned so much about breaking through enemy lines and how important armor was, especially against archers.

But that was beside the point. It wasn’t a thought Masika wanted to linger on. She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, giving a smile that matched the gesture.

“You had said that you knew how to get some coin?” She pressed, eyes looking at Maxi to then look away. In truth, she still very much wanted her anklet back. “I mean, clearly, right now you should be resting and, um, maybe we can… share a room?” She went to get her coin purse, holding it up to reveal four coppers among the cobwebs and dust.

“You see, it’s just that, I’ll be paid officially once I reach Ragash. But to then come all the way back to Zudal to get my anklet might not be possible if I am needed out on the field elsewhere and maybe this apothecary might sell my anklet to someone else like he tried doing to you and so I just think if you maybe might be willing and generous and compassionate that you might help me in that regard but clearly, I mean, you need rest, and I understand that, I just…” She sucked in a deep breath, entirely out of breath from her rambling. “We could share a room. You get rest while I get my maceaxe, and whatever idea you had to getting the coin, I could help and then get back my anklet.”

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

We both look like we just murdered someone.

Well, I did just murder someone—these were the words poised right on the center of his tongue. He could almost feel their weight. He almost said them, those words, just as they were, but then Masika tittered and Maxi smiled amiably and he decided as of yet not to (though, just a moment later, would come a similar impetus). It wouldn't make for a good first impression, saying that, even as a spot of humor and even if murder was the incorrect word for the deed.

Maybe she'd get it though. And it was this sentiment, trusting and charitable as was his nature, which would prompt his forthcoming answer.

Masika was really open, wasn't she? She didn't even have enough breath to accommodate just how open she was. Maxi liked that about a person, openness and sincerity. Secretive people? Shifty, double-talking people? They reminded him of Hofnel, and of a few particularly bad clients. And, well, it had to be said...Ashara turned out to be such a one. Which was a shame. She was a fine person upon until that point.

Masika summarized everything, and then Maxi said, "Yeah, we can share a room."

And then came his extended branch of trust.

"Out west," he said, motioning his head in what he reckoned was the very direction he'd mentioned, "farther out from where you found me and left your maceaxe, there's the body of a woman. Her name was Ashara. She stabbed me, and I killed her. I didn't check her pockets, but I figure there's at least three gold in there."

All this he said as casually as if giving directions to a delightful bakery which sold the sweetest confections.

Masika

 

[Masika]

The color didn’t drain from her face, but her words seemed to clog up her throat as she struggled to say something. She hadn’t thought her lie to be true, but as she glanced at his hand, twisted and mangled, it only made sense. She looked over Maxi, from his ears to his face, even leaning over to look at his tail and then at his injury.

Was it wrong to think that he reminded her of Rahma? Not in demeanor but in appearance— by the Hundreds, that was wrong to think, wasn’t it? Masika cleared her throat and the words that had jammed the passageway. She handed what coin she had to Maxi and then smiled.

“Thank you. Go get a room and rest. I will be back at nightfall.” Because if there was a body out there, whether it was a bad woman or a good woman, Masika thought she should be buried. How awful was it for vultures and canids to come and feast on her flesh? There must be one person out there that would weep at the thought.

Masika began to walk westward, only when being out of Maxi’s sight did the thought occurred to her that Maxi could be lying. He could have attacked Ashara and the stab wound could have been in her defense. But why attack a random woman? For three gold that he didn’t even take? The next thought made her shiver even under the warm sun. Rahma was strong and fast. Would Maxi be just as strong and fast? Would he be stronger and faster than her?

The only comfort to that thought was the fact that he was injured. Regardless, Masika knew she’d only be able to sleep lightly in the same room as him. She was not frightened enough to not share a room with him, or perhaps that was from some part of her believing Maxi’s words over her own doubts.

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

"Thanks, Masika," said Maxi. "You're a good person."

He didn't think too much of Masika's slight hesitation, of her clearing her throat in order to speak. He just accepted the coin presented to him and returned the smile. Worries found no harbor for long in Maxi's mind. And as he turned to hobble away and toward the Zudal inn, he, as was his wont, had complete trust in Masika. It was the same trust he had given to Ashara, but, to Maxi, that was only one blemish; he trusted plenty of people, and plenty of times that trust was well at home, and he would rather be open and trusting over closed and standoffish.

It was the way he wanted to live in the world, and so he did.

* * * * *​

Maxi feebly pushed up the inn room door and entered, closing it behind him. The innkeeper was surprised to see him: whether he was surprised to see him again after a rather definitive farewell earlier in the day, or was surprised (and shocked) to see all the blood, that was up for debate.

The thought had crossed Maxi's mind that the person Ashara had been working with might, in fact, be at the inn. Seemed convenient and easy for Ashara to slip the heirloom off to that person if he or she was right here, staying in the same place Maxi and her had stayed in. But, fortunately, the only person he saw while purchasing the room was the innkeeper, who was too old to be involved in some adventurous scheme.

And, in either case, Maxi needed to rest anyway. Let the apothecary's ministrations do their work. Let his body heal and his blood return.

He all but collapsed on the bed, laying face down, his head not even on the pillow, one of his arms hanging over the side. And like this did he drift off.

Masika

 

[Masika]

Abasi had said she was a good person. He had said many things to her, but one of her favorites had been when he said that she was filled with such goodness it showed in her face. It might have been a warning, but Masika considered it to be a compliment to this day.

With happy thoughts, as Masika did come to Ashura’s body (animals and critters had already gotten to her by the time she arrived) she was shocked. The woman’s face was gone and Masika wasn’t sure if it was because of the animals or Maxi. When she saw the rock with blood, she knew the answer, but she tried to focus on other things.

Maxi was right. There were three gold. Enough for her anklet. She looked at the woman without a face, who she only knew as Ashura. Too bad she couldn’t spell that name.

Ashura had had a mother and father. Maybe she had brothers and sisters. She surely would’ve had cousins and grandparents. Maybe she was a mother herself. Did she have daughters or sons? Both? Masika began her prayers as she used her mace axe to begin digging. She realized an hour later that a mace axe was not suitable for a shovel and if she continued she’d break it.

Now she needed to mend her sandals and her mace axe and figure out what exactly she’d be doing for food on the rest of the journey. Her stomach growled, reminding her she had yet to eat and that she was likely to go without food for the rest of the day. When she looked at Ashura’s face, the hunger disappeared and instead she felt sick.

Through the sickness, Masika spent hours digging a very shallow grave and marked it with a different stone that she purposely chipped with the rock used in Ashura’s murder. The chip had a nice shape to it. The sun was close to setting when she had finished. Masika threw the murder weapon far, far away before making her way back to Zudal.

---

When Masika arrived at the inn, without her anklet (no one opened the door at the apothecary and Masika wasn’t foolish enough to break in) but with some foraged honeycomb and palm nut instead. The innkeeper regarded her with much suspicion as she described Maxi, asking for his room, promising that she knew him (and not because he was some bounty or she was trying to collect debt from him) and maybe it was because of the bigger chunk of honeycomb that she was able to convince him.

When she stepped into the room, the sight that first greeted her was Maxi. She went to set the small bounty down on a cheap wooden table that was more like a wide and stout stool. Masika was quiet while she did this, hoping to not disturb Maxi too much. She kept her mace axe on her being regardless.

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

Sometimes he dreamed of the brothel, of his friends there, and the weird and unrealistic hijinks they would get up to only in a dream. Sometimes he dreamed of his brothers, maybe going on an adventure with them or just hanging around Annuakat and basking in the sunshine. Sometimes he dreamed of his father, and sometimes his dreams even forget that his father had a limp, and it was nice to see him walk around with all the spring in his step that his brothers had. And then, of course, there were the dreams that were just plain strange and surreal and even a little funny, sliding from one scene to the next with no rhyme or reason and this just continuing until he woke up. But Maxi always had good dreams; he didn't have any nightmares, or at least he didn't have any nightmares that he remembered.

The sunshine of his current dream faded quickly, and was replaced by the dimness of the inn room. It had to be well into the evening. He was still lying on the bed exactly as he had fallen onto it.

He saw the silhouette of Masika by the cheap wooden table.

"Did you find Ashara?" he asked, turning his head ever so slightly. "Did she have any coin in her pocket?"

He was almost certain she did. He didn't feel the heirloom when he had patted her down, but maybe some coin. And hopefully Masika didn't go through all the trouble just for three copper instead of three gold.

Masika

 

[Masika]

His voice made her jump and she turned toward him in sheepish surprise. Masika stood with strict straightness, like a fresh shoot of reed in spring, arms at her sides with her head high and straight. Dark eyes darted over to Maxi’s face and then his torso. They would need to change the bandages tomorrow, wouldn’t they?

“I’m sorry for waking you,” she whispered softly as if it could help to put him back to sleep. “I tried to be quiet.” Her posture relaxed and she sidestepped away from the small table. There wasn’t much space in the room. At least there was privacy here, however, with most of the inns she had come across in smaller towns and villages just having straw beds stacked against the back wall of the inn.

“I did.” Masika said. “She did. Three gold. As you said.” While her body had relaxed, there was still a stiffness in her voice. She cleared her throat. “More importantly, how are you feeling, Maxi? I brought a little snack. Are you hungry? I hope you aren’t allergic to honey…” Masika trailed off, thinking of Ragash. She wondered if Femi was doing alright with the neighbors taking care of him. With a loud exhale, she sat herself on the floor, crossing her legs under her.

She leaned back, her hands behind her and supporting her.

“Today was a long day, wasn’t it? You should eat and rest more.” The smile that followed after held no lies.

Maxi Ardune

 

[Maxi Ardune]

Maxi slowly came to drag himself up from the prone mess that he had been and to sit on the edge of the bed—and certainly not with the best posture, all slouching shoulders and tilted head, this as if his neck could not yet bear to hold it upright yet. His tail hung over the side of the bed, only the tip swishing about with little more than idle energy. The story of how he looked probably was answer enough to her question.

It was good that she found Ashara; that three gold wasn't a lot to a good many people, but that was the key to settling the debt with the apothecary and getting her anklet back. It just wasn't right that she had lost it on account of helping him.

"I'm not allergic to anything when I'm hungry," he said with a little smile.

And, count the Six and count them again, was he famished. A snack, with or without honey, sounded like some kind of ambrosia having fallen from the sky itself right now.

"Yeah," he said to the idea of eating and resting more, "I haven't eaten anything since breakfast."

Then after a moment, he asked with a casualness that belied the potential importance of the question:

"Did you happen to see anyone else when you came in?"

Masika