Fate Weaver's convergence

V2 C101

The march back to the city was not unlike the trek outward. There was the occasional break and the same soundless nights. Even with his lack of hostility, it seemed that sleeping around the hidden behemoth of a slime made the group weary. Pulling the train of carts along, weighed down by their share of megafauna, was taxing but familiar in small ways.

It was like exercising with equipment on earth, ropes over my shoulders as I imagined a sled with forty-five-pound weights on it. The hardest part was continuing from a stop. It was two days later, and we arrived in the morning as we camped on Brenton's outskirts. Lapsha was shooed back to the temple in the sinkhole where he stayed, and I had a more pressing matter than reuniting with the soft furs of my bed.

It was a sight for some of the outer city residents, already accustomed to seeing my feats of strength. The guards, however, took to fetching spare horses and clearing the crowds, releasing me from my duties as an escort. It would spawn another rumor to give Sabine thought to outperform.

"Damnit, hit my damn toe. Don't feel broken, but sure may as well be stubbed to hell!"

Findlay swore to himself, hobbling through the front door of his shop. In his hands, he held a sack of dried meat, a tomato, and some bread. The dwarf inspected the door for a moment, huffing to himself at some oddity he took notice of.

"It's about time you're back, old man."

I playfully chided, swinging my feet in the air as I sat on his countertop. Findlay turned suddenly, jolting in surprise.

"How the hell- your Gods' damned parents teach you not to break and enter?"

What? You left the door open.

Findlay seemed perturbed, his face morphing in anger as he realized his mistake mid-thought. His eyes fell to his keys, sitting on one of his display tables from before he'd gone out. Noticing my confusion, Findlay breathed and seemed to discount his own frustration.

"Forget it. What do you want, brat? Wasting my time? Giving up on the hunt?"

Findlay looked to the dull slab of rock at the floor of his counter, appeared to nod in surprise, if only slightly, and shook his head.

"That ain't jade."

My smugness died down.

"Wait, what?"

I asked, looking at Findlay in confusion.

"What do you mean that ain't jade?"

The dwarf placed his thumbs along his belt and cocked his hips.

"Girl, do you aim to be some kind of mineral scholar? The crust isn't nephrite; it's quartz."

Quartz?! You mean I fuckin hauled my ass out there, nearly got Myles eaten, and fuckin dragged a Gods damned slab or bullshit back here? Fuck that!

Findlay could see my internal struggle, pursing his lips before speaking.

"Good ol' quartz."

Findlay stopped to think, ignoring my dejected outward expression. He focuses on it for a forward moment without saying anything, wiping a hand along the quartz slab.

"Aventurine."

He spoke, seeming aggravated to a degree, before huffing and moving for what I assumed was a kitchen area. Not a word further was spoken as he began rummaging for cutlery to prepare a sandwich.

So that's it? I fucking-

I held in the urge to slam my fist on the countertop.

Fucking DAYS wasted. Fuck my life... Fuck!