Chapter 4

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IV

Smiles and Shaking Hands




"The Sapa seemed very interested in you, Fletch," said Rosellia. "Were you two close?"

 

Fletch bounced in his seat as the carriage shook over bumps on the road. "No. No, not at all. I don't know why he cares so much."

 

"Well, you're an important scholar, aren't ye? He seemed to put a lot'a stock inta that."

 

Fletch shrugged. "Important…I guess the Korrenarh family is important, but I'm one of their newest members. I don't think he knows a lot about who I am."

 

"He doesn't," said Alikath. "The Sapa was being like that because you're representing both East and West Clearbrooke, and he's in a bad mood about it."

 

"You are?" Rosellia scoffed. "But you live in the East! Is that not a huge conflict of interest?"

 

Fletch shook his head. "Nope! Actually, nine people from each city had to come together and argue about who'd be in my spot, and I won!"

 

Amira raised her eyebrows, and scanned Fletch up and down. Feeling he was being undressed with her eyes, Fletch tucked his knees up to his chest. His talons poked a hole in his seat cushion.

 

"How'd ye manage that?" she asked.

 

"Natiri," said Fletch. "I was born in the West, and grew up alone with my parents in the woods. When I left home, Natiri took care of me, and showed me how to live."

 

Rosellia shrugged at the name, but Amira recognized it after a little thought. "Natiri... th' Grapevine!? You knew 'er?"

 

Fletch nodded. "You, too?"

 

"A little," Amira explained. "She spent a year or so livin' on Gro, in the town of- ahh… Greshalt. Was the closest town next t'mine, so I heard gossip, but I never met the lass."

 

"I'm sorry," Alikath shook his head, joining in Rosellia's confusion. "Who is Natiri? The name's familiar, but…"

 

"She's my teacher! Ah- and a traveling druid. People call her the Grapevine, because where she goes, good things happen! Parties, harvests- a lot of alcohol. She ends plagues, stops wars- whole cities leave depressions when she's around!

 

"When my mom died," he went on, "I didn't have a community to run to. We lived alone, in the forest. I had to find Delta, full of all these strangers. But Natiri let me live with her right away, she taught me how to act around people!"

 

"Quite the etiquette professor, apparently." Rosellia snickered to Alikath.

 

"Shut up!" Fletch blushed. "Wrong!"

 

Rosellia jumped a little at the immediate outburst. Awkwardly, she uncrossed her legs, and looked out the window.

 

Fletch twitched, and tapped his beak before continuing. "Anyway, when she left Delta, so did I. I crossed the Valley, and moved into Lumen, where I met the Korrenarh scholars. I started studying and hunting with them, until… well you know. I guess I have a reputation, but for the most part, it's Natiri's fault I'm here."

 

Rosellia looked back at Fletch, hesitating to speak up again. "...So you were a compromise. I'm sure the Sapa isn't happy to share you with the West."

 

"He's not happy to share him with us, either," Alikath shook his head. "The old man thinks we're a threat to his city."

 

"But we're here t'protect it, aren't we?" Amira asked.

 

"Sure. Sort of. Ideally, we try to do everything we can to protect our cities… but we can't do everything. Not everyone recognizes that."

 

"What do you mean?" Rosellia asked.

 

"Well… the Ambassadors exist as a joint project between Heavenfell and Lyveria. I don't think I need to tell you all that both nations want more than their share of our land and resources."

 

The group all nodded.

 

"Left to their own devices, the two nations will argue over nothing, and resort to warfare. And since Heavenfell's in the sky, and Lyveria's underwater, that makes us their battlefield. But we don't have the means to defend ourselves from either of them. So, to keep war from breaking out, the Queen and the General of the time worked something out. Us.

 

"We are a political body of the Land District, whatever that means. But our funding comes from a pool of both Lyverian and Heavenfell coin. Our real job is to mediate when the Queen and the General meet to discuss land division. That's 'who takes what territory.' When it counts, we influence what those two leaders agree to take, and what to leave alone."

 

Rosellia nodded. "Then a representative is important, indeed. A city left without one is as good as gone."

 

Amira drank that in, her eyes hazing over as a chill crept up her spine. Then, she shook her head, violently swatting her hair around. "-No. No, it can't be that easy. Th- these're thousands 'a people we're talking about here, n' half a dozen pricks n' a horse cart are their only defense? Th' Land District's made it this long 'cuz every city's strong enough ta fight; we can't be that helpless."

 

"Fletch," said Alikath, not bothering to acknowledge Amira. "the two cities you represent are at war. A few good conversations with either nation, and there's a real possibility one of them steps in to put that to an end. Do you understand now?"

 

Fletch sat back in his seat, awestruck. "The Sapa wants me to destroy the West."

 

"That's right. And he knows the Tlatoani wants the opposite."

 

"Nono, stop that! Don't scare 'im like that." Amira didn't notice she was half-standing out of her seat. "We're one group 'a many! Why're we puttin' so much power in one person, anyway? I mean, couldn't we've had a representative from both cities?"

 

Alikath shrugged. "Sure, we could have."

 

"So why don't we?"

 

"Because I didn't let them. When I sent out that missive, I said that if they gave me two representatives, I'd turn them both away."

 

"What!?" Fletch twitched. "Why!?"

 

"Because that gives our power away, and gives it to both of them. The two representatives wouldn't be working together, they'd be mouthpieces for their respective leaders, who hate each other. I saw that first-hand. Having just one undermines their power, and asserts us as the authority for the entire forest."

 

Rosellia sighed, and rubbed her forehead. "I was hoping to at least meet all of my coworkers before drowning in political cess."

 

"If it were up to the Sapa, we wouldn't exist," said Alikath. "I'm sure he wants our heads on pikes."

 

"Do we need t'worry about him?" Amira asked. "I mean, is he a threat to us?"

 

Alikath shook his head, and leaned into the corner of the carriage. "Probably not. The war has him occupied, same for the Tlatoani. But if those two ever stop fighting, or if the Isolationists come back into power… maybe."

 

Rosellia huffed. "And he seemed so sweet."

 

Amira sunk back into her seat and shrunk. She looked out of the window, and didn't say another word until the carriage stopped.





The carriage had been moving for some time now, and it had a little left to travel before they reached the Matria River. The Matria was named after the southern city beside which it originated, before it grew large enough to split the continent of the Land District in half. Its name cursed it with a false sense of scale for what it really was. It would paint a more accurate picture to call the Matria River a long, vertical sea. It stretched many miles wide, carrying waves that flowed in two unchanging directions, careless of the wind or weather. The eastern current flows north, and the western flows south- always.

 

Once upon a time, when the two halves of the continent were one, the Matria was just a river. But, thanks to a process of Lyverian magic cutely dubbed 'erosion,' the Water District's government was able to wear away a path through the earth, growing slowly over time. They used the river itself as a trade route, magically controlling the direction of the tide, to allow for easy access to all shores of the continents. Beneath the watery surface, small trade-heavy cities thrived in the eye of this commercial cyclone, though most land dwellers would only see the traveling merchants and curious Lyverians who flirted with the shore. The port cities were known to have little blossoms of expensive real-estate right beside those ports, so Aquatics who found themselves charmed by the Land District could frolic and swim in their precious water whenever they pleased.





It was two hours past midnight when the Ambassador's carriage parked at Port Valor. Matria, the city, had no ports large enough to justify transport ships, as that would prove too large an inconvenience for those who use Matria as a crossing border between the water and the land. Nearly a full day had passed since Alikath met Rosellia that morning in Valor, and the group were trying their hardest not to fall asleep before they boarded the ship. Thankfully, they made it to their destination, and boarded with no issues. The crew were given word in advance that they would be boarding, so two rooms were set aside for the four travelers.

 

The party of four was exhausted by the time they boarded the dark and stoic vessel, so they didn't stop to admire the deck, and only made passing glances at the hallways inside on their way to their rooms. The interior was claustrophobic, even for those who weren't over seven feet tall, evenly lit by lanterns in the wall, emitting a sterile orange glow. The rigidity of it all meshed sickly with the subtle movements of the boat riding the water; sailors of this particular vessel were known to lose their minds when they spent too much time inside.

 

Amira, the first to get to her room, opened the door, and frowned at the lack of space. She expected the room to be small for her, sure- but did they have to fill up half of the walking space with locked up crates and chests? What was in those things, anyway?

 

In so many words, it was bleak. The walls were covered in drab, chipped white paint, almost half of which had given way to the brown wood beneath. The floor bobbed gently from side to side; the feet of the two cheap beds were bolted to the floor, implying they weren't sturdy enough to stand still on their own.

 

Amira closed the door behind her as Rosellia groggily stumbled toward her bed. Amira was finally starting to calm down, and found something amusing in Rosellia's clear distress.

 

"Not a fan'a boats, Rosa?" She teased.

 

Rosellia shook her head. "How do you people get around like this? I feel like the ship is moving my fins around for me. This is revolting…"

 

"Wait- fins? That's a figure'a speech, right? You have fins?"

 

Rosellia looked at the Goliath like a zoo animal. "Yes. Have you… never seen an Aquatic before?"

 

"I have, but… I mean, I don't see any fins on ya," Amira said, sitting on her mattress.

 

Rosellia brushed her hair, and giggled. "Well if you're looking for something like a tail, you aren't going to find it. We aren't fish. But here, look-"

 

Rosellia held her arm out, and let Amira get a good look at its underside. All along the surface, wrapping around the side and leaving a small divot along the blade of her forearm- sure enough, there was a thin, extra layer of skin.

 

Rosellia slid her finger underneath the flap, and drew it up to her elbow. "They only open up when you use them, so maybe you haven't really noticed. But I'm surprised you didn't know they exist."

 

"Ha, yeah! I had no idea."

 

"Alright," Rosellia sat on her own bed, crossing her legs and facing Amira. "That's me. What about you?"

 

"What'dya mean?"

 

"I mean, tell me something about Goliaths. I hardly know a thing about you people."

 

Amira thought, and hummed, finding her thoughts wandering more around the room than her own heritage. "Hm. What's t'say? We're big."

 

Rosellia pouted, her head tilted forward. "Are you now?"

 

Amira kept thinking. "Oh! I know! Goliath women are just as strong as th' men, without havin' ta work harder for it. Somethin' we have in common with Dwarves, actually…"

 

"Aarakocra as well," Rosellia added. "The 'soldier trifecta,' I knew that too.

 

"What about these?" Rosellia poked one of the various sharp black shapes lining Amira's skin. "Tell me about these spots. Are they birthmarks?"

 

"These?" Amira looked down at herself. "Yeah, most of 'em. Sometimes they just pop up as ye get older. Oh- ha! Actually, they like to show up on scar tissue. Sometimes, when a Goliath feels artsy, they'll cut open little pictures on their skin, so the marks'll show up a certain way. In't that cool?"

 

"Fascinating. And… barbaric."

 

"Don't make me blush," Amira leaned back, and headbutted her stiff pillow.

 

"I don't mean it as an insult. I think there's something beautiful about your people's worship of strength. I'd love to see your island some day."

 

"Ah, mean it as whatever ye want, Rosellia," Amira chuckled. "We live with Dwarves, y'aren't gonna offend a barrock. Got stone skin, ah?"

 

Rosellia laughed, and laid back as well. "Wonderful. Then I can let you know that I find your leather two-piece hideous."

 

"Oh, bite me, yer majesty." Amira closed her eyes, and let the boat rock her to sleep.





Alikath slipped himself under the covers, and looked over at Fletch, who was on his hands and knees, holding his blanket over his head like he was preparing for a hurricane. Alikath snickered as he watched Fletch struggle to get comfortable in his ridiculous little tent.

 

"What are you doing, little guy?"

 

"I'm sleeping!" Fletch spouted. "I'm trying to sleep. Why won't the floor stay still?"

 

"We're on a boat, Fletch."

 

"That's stupid."

 

"Th-..." Alikath started, before catching his tongue. "You're right. That is stupid. But how does burrowing under your sheets help you?"

 

"This isn't for motion sickness! I sleep in an unfamiliar environment! I need to keep my guard up- I don't know what hides around this boat with me! Shadows can't see you through blankets, as long as there's nothing peeking out."

 

Alikath chuckled. "Fletch, Shadows don't-"

 

Fletch popped his head out of the blanket and pointed an accusatory finger at Alikath. "Don't tell me Shadows don't exist, Alikath! You're a red-skinned demon with- with goat horns, don't tell me Shadows don't exist!"

 

"They don't hang out in boats, Fletch. I know they exist, I've fought one."

 

"You have?" Fletch came out of his defensive stance, dropping the blanket down to his hip. "When?"

 

"Three years ago, I think," He stared at the ceiling. "We were exploring around the Graycove Ruins, I forget what for. One of them caught our druid, Brittan, off guard. Got a hold of her for a good six seconds before our paladin was able to smite it. Poor girl was dizzy for the rest of the day... but it really wasn't that dangerous, looking back."

 

"Not that dangerous?!" Fletch scoffed.

 

"Yeah. Waste of a smite, really. We could have just beaten it to death. There's all sorts of monsters lurking around Graycove. I lost my shoe to a mimic like an hour later. I think we were just scared of it because of the stories we'd heard; about them draining the life out of people. They're just big lanky parasites, Fletch.

 

"Also, they're undead," he went on. "No one's died on this boat recently, so there aren't any Shadows sneaking around."

 

Fletch squinted his eyes, and paused. "...I don't believe you."

 

Alikath scoffed. "Fletch! …Alright, you caught my bluff. I don't know if anyone's died here recently. Maybe they're hiding their corpses on the bottom deck, I never asked."

 

Fletch huffed, and retreated back under the covers.

 

"Fine." Alikath huffed back, and threw his own covers to his feet. "Be like that. Here, how about this?"

 

Alikath got up, re-made the bed, and laid on top of the covers. Fletch peeked through again to get a look at him.

 

"I'll leave myself totally exposed," Alikath said. "That way, if any Shadows sneak through our door, they'll see me long before they see you. Now, would you get out of that tent? You look ridiculous."

 

Reluctantly, Fletch laid down, and let his upper body stick out of the sheets. “Do you think something in those crates can help us in an emergency?”

 

“Hm? Oh, no. That's just salt and fish. Copper, maybe. Whatever they're transporting to the West- there's not enough room to keep it all somewhere safe, so they leave the cheap stuff with the passengers.”

 

Fletch stared at Alikath for a while, and noticed something he was too occupied to see before. Alikath's right arm was resting on his chest... holding something.

 

In his hand, giving off a faint golden glow, a beautiful, intricately carved dagger laid atop his ribcage. Fletch gasped as he recognized what exactly this weapon was. "Is that Daemor!?"

 

Alikath furrowed his brow, and cocked his head. "Daemor? Oh- right! Yeah, it is."

 

"What are you doing with one of the Memoria Gems?"

 

"Well, she's our property. My property. Ambassador property… but she's mine."

 

Fletch kept staring at Alikath, waiting for him to elaborate.

 

"...She was gifted to us years ago, from Rha. We got Heavenfell to back off when they were particularly set on claiming that city. So afterwards, its people felt like they wanted to protect us, too. Or just pay us back, or something. I dunno."

 

Fletch sunk a little. "...Rha's gone," he whispered.

 

Alikath nodded. "Not a year later. Our hand was forced, there was nothing we could do. But… Heavenfell never got the dagger.

 

"It's for the best," Alikath said, bitterly. "We're too important to go around without any protection. We need power, and this… is definitely power."

 

Fletch tried to recall what little his father taught him about the Memoria Gems. There were six of them; ancient artifacts dating vaguely back to the Elven Kingdom, which fell three thousand years ago.

 

It felt like all his father could tell Fletch about the Elven Age was how little was known about it. Even the Kingdom and its last king's names were lost to time, but once upon, it ruled over all of Solevi. That was a time before the Humans took to the sea floor, before the Aarakocra started pulling islands up to dance with the clouds. But the Memoria Gems kept their relevance in the minds of Solevi's people, even when they too disappeared.

 

It was common knowledge that Lyveria held one relic in its possession: the trident Alfāor. Heavenfell carried two: the Celestial Bane and Guillotine.

 

The remaining Memoria Gems: Feystorm, Icarus, and the Willow Fetters had been in locations unknown for centuries. Fletch believed that the dagger, Daemor, was among them, but evidently he was wrong.

 

"Anyway, I like to keep her on me, especially at night. She's warm," Alikath joked. "And it makes me feel safer. Y'know. From the Shadows."

 

Fletch couldn't look away from that thing. How had he never been told that someone wielding a Memoria Gem was just wandering around the Land District? How had no one told him that he'd be living with that person!?

 

Fletch flopped on his back. He wasn't sure if this new knowledge made him feel more or less secure. If anything, it made him a little afraid of Alikath; that he could hold something so powerful so casually. And a Tiefling, at that. Fletch's father had no shortage of warnings to never turn your back on one of those. But, Alikath said he was on Fletch's side, at least for now. And he would rather this devil be one he knew, than one he didn't.

 

Fletch buried his head into his pillow, and the two laid in silence for a good few minutes.

 

"...What if a Wraith gets in our room?"

 

"Go to sleep, Fletch."

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