We Solemn Few

Chapter Fourteen : Books and Stories

Zenrin stifled a groan as he shrugged on a large crimson robe, the wool weathered and scuffed at many points, precise stitching holding many tears together, but it fit perfectly. He had asked Freya who it belonged to - it was clearly not hers; she was shorter than he by nearly a head - but she had grown quiet and did not speak much after. He hoped he did not offend her. She was a nice woman, and kind enough to let him dress himself, too. With a grimace, he ignored the flaming pain that shot through his back, then drank down the last of his tea with a brief thanks to the elven woman, even though he did not like the taste.

Sparing a brief moment to look over the little girl - he really did wish she had given a name - he left the cozy home with promises to be careful, and genuine ones at that. Her voice may have been honey, but if she could command Amber to allow him to stay... well, he did not need to worry about that. He would keep his promise, even if her blue eyes nearly dared him to think otherwise. He would. He just wished there wasn't a faint voice in his head reminding him of what happened when he remained too long in the outer village of southern ils'Tar. Hopefully they cannot teleport, too.

An odd concept, that. There had been talks of teleportation in old stories, especially those that spoke of old mages and sages and great minds, but it was usually cloaked behind the many other veils of magic of the time. To them, teleportation was as common as walking, though he could not see how. Even now the mere idea that Amber had teleported them still wrapped his brain; he knew of magic. Mjunik had been able to foretell events - scorn him! - even if most were only stories, and Ixus could supposedly "enchant," though he never explained how that worked too well. He was always "too young." Even so, magic like this, like in the stories, left him awestruck.

Pulling himself from the depths of his thoughts, he allowed himself to take in the rather quiet atmosphere of Mintralou. The town was smaller than ils'Tar by half, if not even half that, yet it was still many times larger than Kluseth, if his home still stood. Amber says it does, but if he lied... He forced the thought from his head; he'd have to trust the man going forward, he was sure. Surprisingly, the town itself was not much unlike Kluseth, with many homes built up by paneled wood - though many here had stone foundations - with thatched roofs to complement it, though there was a tiled roof for every five thatched. The streets, too, were gravel paved, rather than slathered with the every-flowing concrete he had seen in ils'Tar, and the quiet bustle was much more preferable to the flood of people he had seen before. He was thankful for that most of all; swimming through people was much tougher than swimming through water. Perhaps even swimming through mud.

Quietly he made his way through the streets, noticing the many homes that surrounded him. Not once did he notice a shop, though an inn popped up here and there. People were about nonetheless, some congregating on the porch of one's home, while others simply called across the street to one another. Children ran uncaringly around the streets and land, playing an odd game where half wielded sticks and the other half snarled, baring teeth as if they were monsters. He wished he did not ask one of them what the name of the game was. Ghorahks and Soldiers, they called it, and nearly ran for their mothers when they saw how cold his stare had gotten. He did not think the kids had ever seen ghorahks, perhaps they hardly even knew them from stories, but he had been nearly cut down by them several times. He forced his eyes forward as he walked; he did not want to watch the game anymore.

Deeper he went inward, until the streets of gravel transitioned into a harder platform of cobblestone, a wooden archway donning banners of pastel pinks and whites, bearing the sun eclipsed by the two moons of Ethernia. That was something he certainly remembered from stories. The Hallow Banner, a radiant display of the Hallow One's glory and further, the Hallowed Kingdom's might. Their rule eclipsed most of central Kronha, from what a history book had said, but some said it held the continent in its entirety whilst others argued it hardly had control at all. He thought the latter was foolish; if Hallow representatives could appear in Kluseth, they could appear anywhere. Kluseth wasn't on most maps, yet they still found their way.