Omens In Ashes

Frost 03 Age of Kings Year 20

It was the season of high tides, freezing winds and thick fogs. Hundreds of boats lowered their anchors and tied their ships into harbour, bringing with them their haul to the morning fish markets. Over time, many of the waters here would grow cold and the schools of fish would move on to warmer climates. Little trade would happen over the span of the next hundred or so days and Oliver needed to figure out a way to make a living or become a supplier.

Sound roared around him as the dock workers rushed back and forth, doing their best to cater to the hordes of people setting up their last stalls trying to get some money in. Everywhere the last-minute buyers of the markets kicked up stones beneath their feet, braving the cool morning chill in the rush get the freshest of fish.

Opportunity loomed its head around the horizon and Oliver knew that there was something beautiful just waiting to be sketched somewhere in this city. Setting new sights for something exciting, the fisherman pushed past the crowds and ventured to the more sophisticated, less pungent areas of the city where the gardens bloomed richly coloured flowers, knights guard their special houses, and the maidens sleep until high sun. He ogled at them, admiring the craftsmanship and shapes of the structures built by the stone masons. So much love was placed into the preservation of these areas that none could help but admire them. There was nothing more beautiful to him in the world than something built with heart.

“Must be nice to own such lovingly shaped stone,” Oliver muttered beneath his breath as he precariously walked forward, his eyes statutory upon the buildings as his head turned paying no mind to the world in front of him. He had seen in the past his father doing similar things with wood, and although he had learned much of working on ship building, he was eager to know more.

Wait. Oliver’s mind snapped back into reality and he realized that he was supposed to grab some hooks for Torim and go to the bank. He forgot why.

“Anybody know where I can find a bank?!” Oliver yelled out at the top of his voice, absent minded of the fact people in the city still slept at this hour.

Foul weather had started early this Frost and Elyna hated to be cold. She was wrapped up with a knitted scarf, hat and gloves over her tunic and cloak. Still, despite the insistent chill, she couldn’t help but smile.

The woman had been set a challenge, to celebrate something good. Her smile spread across her features as she picked her way through the sparse crowd. It was still early morning, but now her mind was made up she wasn’t going to waste any time.

It had been suggested that the Skyrider buy a house and she had done just that. But now, with the announcement of land available for half of its usual value, Elyna was determined to make an investment. Why shouldn’t she? She had earned the gold with her blood sweat and tears. Her home, her land, these were things that could never be taken from her.

Elyna climbed the city, away from the barracks and the lower quarters into a region better reserved for dignified men and women. The sparse crowd of people moving around wore finer clothes and usually had servants in livery following close behind. Trained as a Knight walking the city streets for the best part of a year, this is why Elyna noticed the young man, out of place.

He wasn’t wearing finery. But from the expression on his features as he studied their surrounding architecture he looked like a poet or an artist. Elyna couldn’t help but smile, pausing in her stride. Her own clothes were non-descript. Skirts beneath her tunic. No matter that she preferred breaches, skirts were more usual for women among the city folk.

He turned, shouting suddenly and Elyna hid her smile behind her mouth. He drew a number of alarmed looks but the woman approached.

‘The bank?’ Her own tone was polite, if jovial. A smile teasing the corners of her mouth. ‘I’m headed for the bank,’ she offered, ‘I can show you the way?’

Waiting with bated breath, Oliver could feel the chill of the cool Frost morning biting at his skin as the lavishly dressed passersby glanced a look in his direction, but ultimately ignored his early morning rambling bar but one. A jovial tone perked up from over yonder belonging to a woman with locks of soft brown hair, regular slightly less common that the commoners that he was used to clothing and big brown eyes that beamed with mirth.

He stared at her, studying every aspect of her appearance “You’re like a doe in a forest of stone, soft with grace as you prance gracefully through the trees…” Oliver lost a sense of time as he admired this young woman. He wanted to paint her.

Reality took a minute to settle back in before Oliver cheered excitedly “Really?!,” he exclaimed, running over and extending his hand to her “Cheers. I’m Oliver, it’s a pleasure to meet you little doe.”

As grand and beautiful as the intricately carved stone buildings with filigree laden handiwork had been to Oliver, he had often seen them many times before and this was much more interesting. He paused. Mid-offering his hand, the fisherman remembered to check his person for the bag slung around his shoulder, trying to remember why on earth he had to go to the bank. Oliver tried to figure out ways around it, he would much rather spend the day drawing the beautiful creature if he so got the chance.

…Why?

He looked at the little doe bluntly, blinked twice then shrugged and readjusted his position. “Sorry, got confused. Not sure why I need to go, but I guess I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

The man turned around and the woman adjusted the strap of the bag that crossed her chest. There wasn’t much in it, but it held a number of important documents. She had found herself checking the bag was still every dozen strides in the walk through the city so far. The intensity of his gaze caused her to fidget, touching a hand to her hair, ensuring that the tresses were still neatly plaited, the braid running over her shoulder. Did she have something on her face? Had mud splattered her or the wind thrown leaves into her hair?

His words provided some relief, that there wasn’t anything untoward about her appearance. But far overstepped the boundary of politeness she had expected from a stranger.

‘I’m a what?’ She asked, blinking with confusion before she frowned. A poet then, she had been right in her assessment. Surely only a poet or artist would speak so lyrically, especially so early in the morning.

Before she had time to regret her offer of assistance, the man approached at a run. Elyna steadied her balance on her back foot, sliding her satchel around her body so that it was tucked behind her. She caught his hand and shook it between her own.

‘Reyes,’ she smiled, although the expression was uncertain. Oliver. She filed the name to remember. Though didn’t expect that she would soon forget the encounter. ‘You can call me Reyes,’ she insisted and her smile softened.

Maybe there wasn’t any harm to him. She gestured to the street, where the majority of people seemed happy to give them a wide birth with a few sidelong looks.

‘This way,’ she encouraged and gestured for the man to follow. ‘We’re not far away, I’m sure you would have found it on your own,’ another, slightly nervous smile followed as he made his admission. Elyna paused in her walk to look at him again. He didn’t remember why he was going to the bank? She swallowed the sense of unease and shrugged.

‘Well,’ she searched for something to say. ‘Hopefully you’ll remember before we reach it…?’ She suggested with an optimism that she didn’t feel. She checked her own bag again. ‘You’re not from Andaris, are you?’

Mirth was a shallow gift to those comforted by the shadows of their own doubt. Reyes’s alarm for his being was clear, though not entirely unwarranted. Oliver could only question why such an individual would offer herself up to showing a stranger to an unfamiliar place if not prepared to be faced with the discomfort of a new face. He smiled back at her.

“A doe!” the fisherman exclaimed, walking alongside her “They’re social animals that live in herds, herbivores. I remember anchoring down on one of the coasts to the south during the crisp morning of Bloom. We had been fishing off the coasts for tuna and decided to make a stop to enjoy the scenery. I remember there was this beautiful doe with her baby calf grazing through the trees. She was so peaceful and graceful in the way that she moved. Your eyes, they’re so rich and deep in colour that they reminded me of her.”

Step by step Oliver followed the stranger down the cobblestone paths as they weaved their way past the residential through to the bustling market squares. Where Oliver was welcomed by the aroma of fresh bread hitting his nostrils, warming the very core of his body as his ears rang with the voices of people yelling loudly, as they tried to sell their wares in one of the most difficult trading seasons and shop owners moved through the shadows of the cold morning to set up and ready for the few hours of sunlight the Frosty days had to offer. Oliver’s glanced over at the stock, it was scarce in comparison to what he remembered it being years before.

Reyes spoke up again and opted for a notion that Oliver was unsure if she believed when she spoke, but none the less he appreciated that she tried. “Remembering? We’ll sail over that wave when it gets to us,” he laughed as he buried his arm into his pack to retrieve an apple, “I’m from here. Just never needed to go to a bank, never had the money for it. How about you? You seem a little tense, you all good?”

Oliver bit down on the apple and watched the little doe expectantly.

Elyna nodded politely as the man explained his comparison. She tucked stray strands of hair behind her left ear. Should she reply? The woman decided to hold her tongue, the man was a little...unusual but she didn’t sense malice from his intentions. Even if it was more that slightly disconcerting to be compared to a prey animal upon meeting a stranger.

‘Just Reyes is fine, honestly.’ She suggested again with a smile. The woman had paused in her walk but turned to lead the way once more. She loved the smell of the marketplace in winter, especially in the morning. There was something clean and crisp about the air that made the delicious scent of bread, or breakfast pastries all the sweeter. Her gaze lingered on the bakers stall that they passed and she resolved to buy something on the way back through to the barracks.

‘My apologies, I didn’t mean to be rude,’ she ran her fingers down the bridge of her nose, brushing the dark freckles that dotted her skin, ‘I just meant you’re more energetic than most people from Andaris that I’ve met? I’m not from here myself,’ the woman added, ‘it took me a while to get used to life in the city,’ she offered another cautious smile, ‘but I dare say that there are always a few surprises still in store.’

In comparison to Burhan, the stone walls and houses were colder than the wooden surrounds she was used to. The woman had grown up in deep forest, which sheltered the settlements from the worst of all elements. She had often wondered if the people of Burhan were a little warmer than those of the city too, because of their love of the natural environment that encased them.

‘I’m hoping to buy some land,’ she confided, touching her hand to her bag. ‘I have all the paperwork ready,’ the woman couldn’t help but smile, still giddy with the prospect.

‘I am excited, but you’re right - also a little nervous.’

An air of discomfort persisted through their interaction. Oliver could practically feel the gears churning on the outside of Reyes’s brain as she continued to speak. As polite as she had been to him he could feel some kind of disconnect in their rapport as she anxiously shared the details of the contents of the satchel donned over her shoulder. There was no sense in pressing her on the issue, given that it was an odd conversation to have with a stranger.

“You should keep that to yourself,” the painter suggested, taking a bite from his apple “some folks are greedier than others.”

“Don’t worry about being polite. If anything I should be sorry I make you so uncomfortable, it’s clear you don’t really want to be here with me in this moment so just take it easy. Don’t force yourself,” Oliver continued and gave her a gentle smile “I’ll be okay from here.”

Elyna’s brows drew together in a furrow at the man’s warning about her plans, she offered a small smile then.

‘It’s just the paperwork,’ she explained with a grin, patting the bag once more ‘it’s no good to anyone but me,’ the young woman certainly wasn’t a fool enough to carry a vast amount of money around with her in the streets. The cold wind tickled the back of her neck and she shivered.

He continued to speak and her frown returned. Elyna glanced at the man, confused that he had taken such offence or read so much into their brief interaction. Maybe he would simply prefer to find his own way? Although she had felt discomfort, it wasn’t anything she struggled to set aside.

‘It’s no bother,’ she shrugged lightly, ‘I’m heading to the bank, you’re headed to the bank. It would seem rather foolish for us to both travel separately at this point?’ The young woman continued her route, pausing to look back at Oliver to see if he was intent on accompanying her or not.

‘Are you a poet?’ She tilted her head to the side, maybe that would explain some of his exuberance. It’s what she had originally assumed when he had started calling her a doe.

Reyes was about as easy to read as the weather was easy to predict for a smithy. On one turn she showed clear signs of nerves, on the other friendliness. At her request to continue, Oliver shrugged in return and stayed walking alongside the strange lady for the time being.

“Fair enough,” he returned her shrug and casually buried his hand into one of his pockets “I’ve not really done a lot of land buying, but if I were a thief I’d know to make you a target now.”

The implications of this lead Oliver to believe that Reyes was either naive, or somebody who could handle herself in a fighting situation; maybe even both. In one scenario, the stranger would be able to deal better with whatever scenario the consequences of those actions took. In the other it meant that he was carelessly just accepting information from someone who was kind enough to show him the way and not warning her about potential threats for expressing such things. He wanted to try to help.

Oliver juggled his apple in his hands and glanced down at Reyes at the mention of his profession followed by the idea of being a poet. “Far from it, i’ve never been much of a cunning linguist. Though I thank you for your praise,” he grinned from ear to ear “I’m a fisherman and artist by day. A professional lover at night.” The artist winked at Reyes and intentionally made a silly face by being way over the top with his facial expression then shifting his brow in a jokingly suggestive manner. He really wasn’t anything but asleep at night.

“What about you?”

He was persistent in his concern for her safety, and Elyna smiled in reply. While she didn’t share his concerns, she could appreciate them. Hopefully it meant that he was a trustworthy individual. Or maybe just a better liar than most. That was how it worked, wasn’t it? The best liars seemed most honest. They seeded their deception with grains of truth and sincere consideration. She pulled her jacket closer against the rising chill in the air. Bloom felt a long way off, with only the bleak season of Frost and icy weather to look forward to.

Elyna was impressed by his juggling skills, slowing her steps in order to watch the deft actions of his hands. She pressed her tongue against her front teeth. Would it be a useful skill? Her fingers tightened on her bag strap and jacket and she paused in her stride. She moved onto her toes a little, almost excited as she listened to his response. A fisherman and artist? What a strange combination, perhaps he had a lot of time between hauling in a catch?

‘I draw,’ she encouraged his artistic nature before the words fell from her tongue. Stunned she blinked at the man, cheeks scalded pink by his third profession. Caught off guard, Elyna wasn’t sure where to look and so she laughed, realising that he was joking. Or hopefully he was joking. Was that right? Inwardly she cringed, who was she to judge if that truly was his profession. Elyna realised that she hadn’t spoken in reply and drew a quick breath.

‘I uh-‘ she blinked again. What was she? She swallowed, ‘I’m a Skyrider,’ she continued with more confidence. ‘I’ve been in the Iron Hand for over a year now, and the skies are where I’m happiest.’ She set off down the final lane that would lead them to the bank. ‘Could you teach me that?’ Elyna glanced back at him, ‘j-juggling? Maybe someday if you're back on shore during Frost?’