Soulbonder

Chapter 8 - A Foreign Meeting

The room inside was cramped and laden with dust. Against the back wall were three straw mattresses that even the monastery wouldn't deem fit to be called beds. In the centre was a cedar table surrounded by four chairs. Caked across the table's surface were stacks of parchment. There were shelves and book cases, stuffed with hundreds of books and scrolls, made visible by the scant light seeping through the yellow-fogged windows.

Outside was a balcony where two people leaned against the balustrade and gazed into the town below. At the sound of Karlar closing the door, they returned inside. Both wore embroidered cloaks of silk, which hid their faces beneath hoods. One figure was of similar size to Shale and Alora, while the other was so tall that their head nearly brushed the ceiling beams.

The shorter one let down their hood and Shale's confusion mounted. It was a girl. Not just any girl either, but perhaps the most striking young woman she'd ever seen. Her eyes were a piercing yellow and her hair was a thick medley of colour, ranging from strands of pitch black, to spun silver, to ivory white.

The taller one let down their hood too and a leaden weight dropped in her stomach. It was a young man, but not the one she'd expected. Of a similar age to Alashar, this boy had short black hair and was as skinny as he was tall. Maybe he was ill, for he did have a slightly greenish hue to his skin.

She could not hide her disappointment. Who, in the name of Bragan, were these people?

Smiling, the girl spoke in an accent as thick as sap, with the words rolling from her tongue musically. "Thank you dearly, Karlar."

"You are quite welcome."

"Come, won't you sit with us, SanMothers?"

Before allowing them a chance to answer, the cloaked boy and girl began clearing the table of its stacks of parchment. When they were out of the way, they lowered themselves down into the cedar chairs. After exchanging a brief glance between each other, Alora and Shale bounded forward and took the opposing chairs. All that was left on the table was a brass pitcher and four goblets.

The yellow-eyed girl grabbed the pitcher and filled her goblet with a blood-red liquid. Upon doing the same for the boy, she eyed the SanMothers. "Would you care for some wine? This Yernish stuff is sweeter than we're used to, but it has its charms."

"I-"

Shale received a sharp kick under the table and an accompanying glare from Alora.

She sighed. "Our vows prohibit us from engaging in any intoxicants or mind-inhibiting substances."

"Inhibiting?" The girl's eyes glimmered with amusement. "Isn't it funny how different cultures interpret things? In our home town of Raiysteil, folk drink, smoke, and taste all manner of teas, plants, and spices, in order to experience the world anew. There are some who even collect the venom of the imrracoddi and thin it, before drinking it, to see visions of the other plains."

The imrracoddi? Shale knew of the snakes. They were said to be as long as carriages, when fully grown. As for cultural differences, she did find it fascinating, almost as much as monsters, magic, and battles. Her favourite part of study time aside from finding great stories, was learning odd quirks of other places.

"Raiysteil?" Alora said. "You are from Orian then?"

"Impressive. Very, very impressive, SanMother. It is only a small city and yet you know of it?"

"I'm quite familiar with Orian."

"Well you are correct. We indeed hail from the southern greatland."

Shale felt a touch intimidated to know she spoke to people from such a rich, historical place, where great heroes had lived and where empires had risen and fallen. Orian folk had visited town before, but she'd never interacted with them directly.