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desertarchaeo · 2 years

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Prompt 12: Missed the Boat (make up)

Thea looked at the tangle of whatever it was supposed to be in front of her then back at the lalafel, who was grinning as if they had just told the best joke in the world, a joke that the twelve themselves would hold up as the most masterful of jokes, then up at the sky to whatever deity might dare look upon this tiny spot of fuckery and grant her the mercy of a quick and silent death.

“No.” The lalafels grin widened and Thea took a quick step backward. “I said no.” Thea was sure if the lalafel grinned any wider, they would snap their jaw off their face. She spun to leave as quickly as she could.

“Well actually, Journeyman Kisne. Your supervisor disagrees and the guild sent me to find you specifically for this.”

Thea hissed like a teakettle about to explode and stopped her escape to face the lalafel again. “Who did I wrong in a past life to deserve this. First that puffed up miqo’te and her trapping me in the library and now this!”

The lalafel shrugged before pulling out a small scroll tied with a grey string, standard issue gleaner request orders. “I am to give you this and those.” They point to the tangle of cloth and straps. “You are to meet with a contact at the borders of Dalmasca and once you change into the provided garments, will enter the province and collect the items on the list. Your contact will help you.”

“I am a field guild and specimen collector, not some glorified actor or spy?! Do you even know what that is?” She gestures wildly to the items now at her feet.

“Nope.” The lalafel popped the p hard. “Don’t care.”

Thea scooped up the garments, though calling the assorted collection of leather and silk a garment was a HUGE stretch in her mind, and stormed out of the meeting, murder on her face. Several lower apprentices working nearby moved quickly out of her path.

She made it to her small quarters before letting out a screech of rage and flopped forward on her small cot.

*******

It had taken her quite some time to calm herself enough to pack and dress in suitable traveling clothes, the costume given to her carefully rolled to take up the least amount of space. A ticket had been included in the gleaner list and she was to be on a merchant ship slated to leave at sunset. She had a stop in Limsa to change ships, hopefully one of the privateers could offer her passage to Thavnair, and from there she would meet with a tiny charter to take her to Dalmasca. It was a long trip and had better be worth it in the end.

The merchant crew was friendly enough as long as Thea stayed out of the way as best she could and were happy to include her in their card or dice games at night.Doubly so when they found she was utter rubbish at cards but wicked when dice were involved. Her losses at one were balanced by her cleaning out two of the crew members of all their loose gil over the course of two nights. They didn’t begrudge her, the guild paid extremely well for them to carry her to Limsa and the captain always warned them that whatever they lost was their own damn fault and none were allowed to bet future wages.

She left the ship with a wave, a heavier purse, and a mission to find the swiftest ride to Thavnair. There were always captains set up in a nearby warehouse offering rides for extra coin while their cargo loaded.

Luck was with her and a privateer company had two ships going to Thavnair for something and offered her a bunk on one when she enquired. Clutching her slip in hand she moved through the docks until she found The Mistress, its gangplank manned by a wispy elezen woman with a wax tablet and stylus. She watched as crew members buzzed around loading barrels and supplies before moving up to present her slip.

The elezen looked down her nose at the viera and Thea resisted the urge to fidget. It was always best to be assertive and not take any shit but sometimes people had the same look as her mam and even 70 years later, her mam’s look could still strike fear.

“Passenger quarters are second level aft. Now get out of my way. We push off at sunset.” Thea scrambled aboard with her pack and quickly located the tiny bunk and locker she’d paid for.

The trip to Thavnair was painless and once again, Thea walked away with a heavier purse. She might be utter shite at cards but no one beat her at dice. She had even found a companion for the trip, a swarthy highlander who liked that he could pick her up but didn’t feel like he would break her. It made the trip go quickly.

*******

The inn in Yedlihmad was where she was to meet her contact and arrange her trip across the waters. And it was here everything went to shit:

“Looking for Mattias? No luck, he’s dead.” The Au Ra manning the bar swiped his towel over a grimmey spot and then shrugged at her.

“What do you mean he’s dead.” Thea hissed, this whole trip was garbage, she knew it, she never should have left Sharlayan.

“Just that, picked a fight with the wrong sort and got knifed for his troubles. Over a fortnight ago now. That sort of thing doesn’t much happen here, so, you know. Easy to remember. He was a mouthy sort anyway.” This seemed to be the end of it as far as the bartender was concerned.

Thea sat in her small rented room, fuming and pacing. Mattias was the only one who knew how to get past the specific guard patrols in the area she was tasked with reaching. With a huff, she sank to the small cot and looked over at her packs. Maybe if she did some hiking around Thavnair, brought back a few choice items, she could explain her contact never showed and that’s not her fault after all. She also wouldn’t have that embarrassment of a costume either.

Yeah, she would do that. Thavnair had some fancy plant specimens, there were at least two botany professors who loved anything she brought them back.

Problem solved.

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #Thea Kisne #Thea #Viera #Gleaner #Sharlayan #Thavnair #Prompt 12 #Missed the boat #make up day

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impossible-rat-babies · 2 years

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me handing off garbage eyrie relationship lore like I am playing hard and fast w ffxiv timelines:

-> married their first wife—deeply in love with her. had aoife several years later. they visited as frequently as they could. their wife became pregnant w their second child, who sadly died of complications due to being premature. the two of them had no more children

-> eyrie’s nephew dies in their care as an apprentice—something they’ve never truly forgiven themselves for. they spend more and more time away from home and their marriage falls apart. they don’t return home.

-> they have several “relationships” with others in different tribes; nothing formal, but several children are born. one of these children grows up to become an alchemist in Thavnair, and another a gleaner for Old Sharlayan based in Othard and Kugane

-> they have a rough and tumble affair in Dalmasca after deserting the imperial army. they have a daughter who grows up to become part of the Bozjan resistance after the death of her mother due to Garlean occupation. she meets eyrie several years later and the reunion does not go smoothly.

-> they have a brief foray to /try/ and return home. delusions and misplaced hopes of coming back home and everything will be fixed because they “did the right thing”. they’re too much of a coward to truly go back home, and they settle on the outskirts of a different group of viera. they end up in a casual relationship where they eventually end up running away to Eorzea. they unknowingly have a set of twins born out of this relationship.

#eyrie truly has only been this well adjusted for like five years #and even then most of the relationships they’ve had have been built on a false sense of trust #it’s not a manipulative thing it’s just they end up at a point where they don’t open up #they don’t know how to open up. they end up in a place where it’s like #their partner knows nothing about them. their partner realizes that and eyrie doesn’t #know how to reciprocate. it just doesn’t compute #or their terrified all the ugly awfulness will come spilling out and who are they to burden others w that?#theh can’t ask others to fix them but they are clueless on how to fix it #it’s a cycle of behavior in their relationships after the relationship w their wife fell apart #it just sucks so much that their are children that suffered bc of their suffering #which thejr daughter who lives in bozja points out to them #she rightfully tells them that their selfish. selfish for keeping their pain. selfish for pushing the suffering of their youth #unknowingly onto their children. even knowingly doing it. perpetuating the hurts of their parents #they act so different as the WoL but deep down they still have so much #*much baggage their one daughter thinks is disgusting. it’s hypocritical #it’s a brutal wake up call they needed #still they’re slow at it. they struggle with it #it’s been seventy something years. they gotta take a bit #sjsjsjsjd I gotta replay the actual game to get more like. in lore stuff rather than just messing around in backstory #eyrie just couldn’t be normal ig. theh had to be like this ig #oc: eyrie kisne

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withheartsaligned · 2 years

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i wrote up really brief backstory summaries for tabur and vej for a friend, so if you were ever curious about some of their lore.... well, here you go!

tabur oronir:

born to the oronir tribe, his father (arsi) was the most radiant before magnai and his mother (tsolmon) got killed in a skirmish with the dotharl when he was 6. he has two younger siblings, khasar and saran. tabur was trained by his father to try to become most radiant after him and had a lot of pressure placed on him from a young age. when tabur was 17, he was patrolling outside the dawn throne with a few of his friends when they were ambushed by the dotharl. tabur barely managed to escape with his life while his friends were killed, but arsi exiled tabur for his 'cowardice'.

tabur traveled to kugane after his exile and spent 4 years working as a courier in the city. he traveled to eorzea after his time in kugane and joined the gladiator's guild in ul'dah after spending a few months in limsa lominsa then eventually the adventurer’s guild

vej callan (drake):

he was born in sharlayan to the prominent drake family (not leveilleur famous but definitely renowned) to his two fathers and two older sisters. while the rest of his family are pretty academic, vej always preferred fighting and combat. he's childhood friends with a'ven. when he was 16, he joined the gleaners and traveled around eorzea hunting down specimens that were requested. he was a pretty good gleaner and was assigned an apprentice he was 20 to teach. they were in eorzea when bahamut decided to have his little Party Time and vej's apprentice was killed in the chaos. vej's echo also developed during the event, which allows him to sense the emotions of those nearby.

following the calamity, vej left the gleaners and sharlayan to become an adventurer in eorzea to try to find answers for why he can sense other's emotions. he ends up joining the archer's guild in gridania and later the adventurer's guild, where he drops his last name of drake and uses the last name callan instead.

#adrian.txt #oc: tabur oronir #oc: vej callan

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gsmattingly · 1 year

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Review - "The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later"

I watched "The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later" directed by Agnès Varda.

It was a follow-up to "The Gleaners and I" and some people and places from the first film plus people who were affected by the original film. She received a lot of letters and mementos from people who saw the first film. This was only a little over an houyr long. It wasn't as good the as first film but I still found it interesting, enjoyable and entertaining.

I also quite enjoyed "Tribute to Zgougou" a supplemental short film included on the Criterion release. Zgougou was one of Agnès Varda's cats.

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stainedglassgardens · 3 years

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The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later (Les Glaneurs et la glaneuse... deux ans après, Agnès Varda, 2002)

#agnes varda #Agnès Varda #women directors #52 films by women #Les Glaneurs et la glaneuse... deux ans après #The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later #films #documentaries #on mubi

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ozu-teapot · 4 years

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Les glaneurs et la glaneuse... deux ans après (AKA The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later) | Agnès Varda | 2002

#Agnès Varda #Agnes Varda #Les glaneurs et la glaneuse... deux ans après #The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later #2002

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vintage-archive · 5 years

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Les glaneurs et la glaneuse… deux ans après (2002)

#Les glaneurs et la glaneuse… deux ans après (2002)#The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later #The Gleaners and I #agnes varda

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gael-garcia · 5 years

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Agnès: What effect does a film have? What reaches the filmgoer? That’s my question. What came through to you?

Les glaneurs et la glaneuse... deux ans après (2002)

#Les glaneurs et la glaneuse... deux ans après #the gleaners and i two years later #agnes varda #agnès varda #screencaps #post #yes

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talion-graves · 2 years

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Welcome Home

The smell of the sea breezed through the Sharlayan proper as the mid-day sun shined down on the city. Talion ambled along through the streets of his home, a bag of clothing on his back along with his gunblade it had been about half a year since the last time he had walked these streets and he couldn't help but take it all in again. He inhaled deeply for a moment while he walked taking in the smell of the sea and the smell of mouthwatering scent of the food from the last stand, the ocean breeze causing his azure cape to flow along in the wind as he walked. He exhaled with a sigh "Gods I never realized how much I missed that smell... who knew I would end up missing home this much. It only seemed like yesterday that I left home on the boat to Eorzea." The highlander spoke with a depth to his voice, but he spoke with a fondness of this place, recalling some memories he had in the city as he walked before taking notice of the voices of people in the canals near him. Gleaners presumably and from what it looked like they had a rather large shipment heading into Labyrinthos. Talion was rather accustomed to seeing the gleaners out and about, typically out acquiring things for Sharlayan researchers to further their work and then delivering it to them but this amount of them out all going to the same place seemed... odd to him to say the least. "Hm? Well, there's something you don't see every day." The man said as he leaned against a pillar watching the Gleaners pass along through the way to Labyrinthos "As I recall I don't think Gleaners normally work in this number of people... or together for that matter." He said moving his eyes to the building at the top of the steps of the city, the Rotunda. Talion was assuming in his mind it probably was something assigned from the Forum to the Gleaners but couldn't exactly figure what they might be doing it for, he had half a mind to grab a table in the last stand to try to overhear any gossip about what exactly is going on, and possibly a bite to eat but that could wait for later he didn't come home to play detective. Perhaps when he was younger, he would eavesdrop to practice reading people a bit better, his father and Cyrella taught him to pay attention to the smallest details about people at times and you may find out more about them than they would be willing to tell you in one sitting.

"Well, whatever is going on hopefully it's nothing but just a simple shipment to Labyrinthos." The raven-haired man said continuing on his way along the streets of Old Sharlayan heading towards a pathway leading out of the city proper and further into the island past journey's end where the homes were. Atticus chose to live further from the city than most people would, mostly for his own peace of mind with how quiet it would be further away. Talion never had any complaints about it though rather enjoying the walk from home to the city proper through the woods. The man strolled forward for about fifteen minutes before he could see his father’s home coming into view past the trees... that and the loud noise of two people bickering in the distance. A audible sigh could be heard before it led into a chuckle coming from Talion "It's almost like some people never change no matter how much time you spend away." he recognized the two voices; his father Atticus was the male voice while the other was Cyrella.

Talion continued walking towards the tall Highlander man and the Elezen woman as the argued near the front door of the estate, he stopped a short distance from them away from the stairs somewhat intent on letting have at each other. It was normal to see these two argue... well in their eyes debate about things as they would say. They were still mid argument, but he remained in obvious plain view if you weren't mid argument that is. Talion placed his bag onto the ground next to them being careful to not make much noise, he couldn't help but just smile at them and try to hold back the laughter, I understand that they're best friends but gods at times do they bicker like lovers endlessly. They seemed to be arguing about what they thought was going on with the Gleaners and suspicions that the Forum was doing something, Talion wasn't really surprised if the Forum was in fact hiding something it would just be another thing to probably add to the list of many things that they may hide.

"Ah so I see we're all of the same mind then, but then again would it really be a shock to anyone if the Forum were in fact hiding something from people, it seems to be rather right on the mark for them truthfully." Talion spoke with a smile on his face as he stood managing to speak during a very brief pause between Atticus and Cyrella's debate, causing the two the quickly silence themselves and turn to where they heard the voice coming from, both recognizing the voice that belonged to someone they believed to still be in Eorzea. The man and woman stood there dumbfounded at the top of the steps to the estate, both of them only being able to get out one word, a name "Talion...". He smiled at both of them and couldn't help but chuckle " Well I am happy to see you two are capable of seeing me standing here finally, I think I've been standing here for about 5 minutes, and I only got here mid argument. I hate to imagine just how long you two have been going at th- ah!" Talion was cut off mid-sentence by a rush of Aether pulling him forward towards his father and into his arms for a tight embrace. "My boy... you're home." Atticus said with a tremble in his voice, the brunette-haired man was on the verge of tears with the surprise visit from his son.

Talion laughed while grunting, he squirmed slightly honestly forgetting his father’s strength "Ugh, I think you're crushing me dad. I thought I'd surprise you both with a visit home." the raven-haired man said giving his father a hug in return "I missed you both too." ((I’m very rusty at writing anything for Talion and with Endwalker I’ve felt the urge to write for him again, probably not my best work but one step at a time I’m just happy I did it! If you managed to read all of this and got here thank you for taking the time to read it means a lot!))

#Talion's Writing #Final Fantasy xiv rp #rp #oc #Sharlayan #Writing #Hyur #Him and his dad are real close it's honestly touching

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kaoval · 3 years

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The Gleaners and I: Two Years Later (2002)

#the gleaners and i #Agnes Varda

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fuckyeahwomenfilmdirectors · 5 years

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Is there one particular Varda film that you would recommend to someone who has never seen her work?

Yes, of course!

I really love and admire Agnès Varda’s work, but as she worked consistently over the course of 64 (!) years and as she was a French filmmaker who gained notoriety primarily later in her life some of her films are quite hard to access.

Varda beginner level:

If you aren’t really interested in Varda but plan to check out 1 or 2 of her films then I absolutely recommend starting with the Beaches of Agnès. She made the film in 2008 and would make some more films after that, but at that point she didn’t know that and it feels very much like a last film. It’s an autobiographical documentary that covers a lot of ground: her childhood in nazi occupied Europe, her career as a photographer, her marriage and life with fellow filmmaker Jacques Demy, her work as a pioneer film director, her work as an abortion rights activist etc, etc. It’s quite magical.

It’s also slightly hard to find and if you can’t find it then I suggest watching Faces, Places, her recent Oscar nominated documentary with JR. That doc is more about her art philosophy and the power of interactive art and it’s incredibly charming and beautiful.

Varda primer for cinephiles:

If you are a cinephile who hasn’t gotten around to tacking Varda yet, but plan to watch at least a few of her most famous movies I do NOT recommend starting with Beaches of Agnès. Leave that viewing experience until you’ve at least finished the first tier:

Start with her 4 most famous films which are also probably the easiest to find in North America: Cléo From 5 to 7, Vagabond, The Gleaners & I, Faces, Places.

If you like what you see of that then I suggest moving on to the next tier, her lesser known but still excellent films:

La Pointe-courte, Le Bonheur, and the Agnès Varda in California collection from criterterion which includes the shorts Black Panthers and Uncle Yanco, and the films Mur Murs, Documenteur and Lions, Loves and Lies (the order of how you watch the films is relatively unimportant with the exception of Mur Murs which should be watched directly before Documenteur. It makes for a cool two-shot viewing experience and they’re both fairly short so you can knock them out in one go).

The third tier of lesser known films:

Kung-Fu Master!, Jane B. by Agnès V., One Hundred and One Nights.

There are also a ton of her shorts that have subtitles but these are scattered in various places.

#Agnès Varda #ask #anon

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theplaylistfilm · 5 years

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VARDA BY AGNÈS, the beloved filmmaker's final film set to open November 22 alongside career-spanning retrospective

Janus Films announces the theatrical release of VARDA BY AGNÈS, the final work from the late, beloved filmmaker, which will open on November 22 in New York at Film Forum and Film at Lincoln Center, followed by a nationwide rollout.

To coincide with the release, Janus Films will also mount a touring retrospective of Varda's work, the most comprehensive to date, featuring more than 30 films from the filmmaker's 60-plus-year career. The retrospective will begin December 20 in New York at Film at Lincoln Center.

"Agnès Varda's final film is a canny valedictory by one of the greatest filmmakers ever to wield a camera," said Peter Becker, a partner in Janus Films. "Her tremendous creativity, determination, and empathy only increased over the seven decades she spent making cinema, and with VARDA BY AGNÈS, she turns the lens on herself, taking us on her own cinematic journey. It is a quintessential Varda film that not only gives us new ways of looking at her life and work, but new ways of looking at the world. Agnès was a friend and mentor to many of us at Janus Films, and we are especially happy and honored to join with Rosalie and the Ciné-tamaris family in celebrating her legacy with this grand retrospective."

Titles included in the retrospective are:

AGNES DE CI DE LA VARDA (2010)

THE BEACHES OF AGNES (2008)

LE BONHEUR (1964)

CLEO FROM 5 TO 7 (1961)

DAGUERREOTYPES (1975)

DOCUMENTEUR (1981)

THE GLEANERS AND I (2000)

THE GLEANERS AND I: TWO YEARS LATER (2002)

JACQUOT DE NANTES (1990)

LA POINTE COURTE (1954)

LION'S LOVE (...AND LIES) (1969)

MUR MURS (1980)

ONE HUNDRED AND ONE NIGHTS (1994)

ONE SINGS, THE OTHER DOESN'T (1976)

VAGABOND (1985)

WORLD OF JACQUES DEMY (1993)

YOUNG GIRLS TURN 25 (1992)

Short Films

ALONG THE COAST (DU COTE DE LA COTE) (1958)

BLACK PANTHERS (1968)

ELSA LA ROSE (1965)

FIANCES DU PONT MACDONALD (1961)

LION VANISHING (2003)

L'OPERA MOUFFE (1994)

PLEASURE OF LOVE IN IRAN (1976)

SALUT LES CUBAINS (1963)

SO-CALLED CARYATIDS (1984)

ULYSSE (1982)

UNCLE YANCO (1967)

WOMEN REPLY (1975)

YOU'VE GOT BEAUTIFUL STAIRS, YOU KNOW (1986)

7P., CUIS., S, DE B... (1984)

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theplaylistnation · 5 years

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VARDA BY AGNÈS, the beloved filmmaker's final film set to open November 22 alongside career-spanning retrospective

Titles included in the retrospective are:

AGNES DE CI DE LA VARDA (2010)

THE BEACHES OF AGNES (2008)

LE BONHEUR (1964)

CLEO FROM 5 TO 7 (1961)

DAGUERREOTYPES (1975)

DOCUMENTEUR (1981)

THE GLEANERS AND I (2000)

THE GLEANERS AND I: TWO YEARS LATER (2002)

JACQUOT DE NANTES (1990)

LA POINTE COURTE (1954)

LION'S LOVE (...AND LIES) (1969)

MUR MURS (1980)

ONE HUNDRED AND ONE NIGHTS (1994)

ONE SINGS, THE OTHER DOESN'T (1976)

VAGABOND (1985)

WORLD OF JACQUES DEMY (1993)

YOUNG GIRLS TURN 25 (1992)

Short Films

ALONG THE COAST (DU COTE DE LA COTE) (1958)

BLACK PANTHERS (1968)

ELSA LA ROSE (1965)

FIANCES DU PONT MACDONALD (1961)

LION VANISHING (2003)

L'OPERA MOUFFE (1994)

PLEASURE OF LOVE IN IRAN (1976)

SALUT LES CUBAINS (1963)

SO-CALLED CARYATIDS (1984)

ULYSSE (1982)

UNCLE YANCO (1967)

WOMEN REPLY (1975)

YOU'VE GOT BEAUTIFUL STAIRS, YOU KNOW (1986)

7P., CUIS., S, DE B... (1984)

#varda by agnes #agnes varda #janus films #film forum #film at lincoln center

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mogadichu · 4 years

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SOAST DRAFT TWO CHAPTER TWO

The Monastery of Kelsh stood at the heart of the green island, rich burgundy wood carved in patterns of leaping carp and blooming water lilies swept up in lapping waves. A gleaming gold sun stood at each curved tip of the green tiled roof. The inside was paneled with dark wood, the walls varnished with oil murals of sailing ships and groves of cherry trees. The floors were inlaid with shining squares of gold and turquoise stone. Sahn’s footsteps echoed as he weaved through the maze of the corridors, pausing at the cavernous scriptorium, where graying monks copied sacred texts by the light of an arsenal of candles and lanterns, their necks growing forward instead of upward. Tentatively, Sahn peered over one of their humped shoulders. With steel fingers, they painted a map of Kelsh along the thick beige paper.

Kelsh and only Kelsh.

“Did she fix them, Ue?” Kale poked his head out of the library’s threshold, hearing Sahn’s footsteps echo throughout the stone corridor. He reeked of sweat and grass, his clothes stained from his morning work in the fields. Sahn grinned, holding up the mended scrolls. Kale huffed in relief. “Thank the Baltha and all who came before.” Sahn followed his father back into the room, barely wide enough for a grown man to lay down in. The walls were lined with octagonal shelves stuffed to the brim with scrolls, each covered in a fine layer of dust, from the molded wood floor to the timbered ceiling, skewed slightly like a lopsided honeycomb. This held all of Kelsh’s knowledge. This was all they knew of the world, and Sahn and Kale knew every one forward, backward, and sideways.

The monastery was meant to be a beacon of knowledge, a scholar’s jewel, a place for every Kelshin, no matter their station. Most of the population being illiterate was either an unfortunate accident or a cruel twist of fate.

The monastery may have been a marvel to behold, but the scrolls remained unread, the gleaming stone never grew faded from the feet of a curious reader. All but few of the people of Katha ate and slept and plowed from the cradle to the grave without ever learning their letters. “I’ve got no time for letters,” Old Og, a rice farmer with thin arms and a pot belly, grunted when Sahn had asked about it. “I wake up in the morning, I plow, I muck, I seed, and I go home and sleep. Besides, knowing your letters doesn’t make you smart.”

“But my ma and da know their letters,” Sahn had protested, “and they’re smart.”

Old Og had scoffed. “If your ma were smart, she would have stayed and been obedient, not run off and opened her legs to foreign trash.”

Tongueless monks glided past the door as the two worked, dust swirling around their thick wool robes as they walked. Sahn breathed in the room’s musty scent, wanting more than anything to vanish among the hundreds of scrolls that surrounded him. He trailed a finger across one of the carved wooden covers, nodding in satisfaction when it came back clean. Not a speck of dust would touch these shelves on his watch. He ascended the ladder, sliding the scrolls back into their proper place. The ladder’s bottom step was missing, obliterated from its brave attempt to hold his father’s two meters of muscle. Kale’s massive feet never left the ground again after that day. Instead, he unrolled one of the scrolls, surveying Maudra’s handiwork. “Amazing,” he said. “You can’t even see the tears. How much did you owe her?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, come on. She always makes people pay. How much?”

“Nothing,” Sahn repeated. “She was… busy.” He went still, the runes on the wall barging back into his thoughts. He repeated them over and over like a catchy song, wondering what they could have meant. “Da, could you pass me a pen and parchment?” He drew the symbols in a straight line, forming a sentence. It was surprisingly maddening. They looked like Old Kelshin, but they didn’t make any sense. Open there a to gate with… with… the final three runes, he had never seen before. “Can you read this?” He passed the parchment to Kale, not needing to look too far down to meet his eyes.

Kale studied the parchment for a long while, saying nothing, his eyebrows, like two mice resting above his eyes, knit together in puzzlement. He stroked his thick shallow beard, his chest rumbling in a low, constant hum. Then, he looked up, smiled, and tossed it back. “Ue, if your making up your own language, again, you should know that I won’t understand it.”

“It’s not a fictional language, Da. It’s Old Kelshin.” Sahn hopped back down to the floor, recounting the incident in the temple. “So, is Sister Maudra going mad, then?” It made far too much sense. The Daughters of the Moon had been fading for years, each one dying off with no heirs brave enough to take their place. Sister Hada was the only one left. Sahn had tried to give her as much company as he could. But the poor woman was still alone in that great empty temple, day in and day out. Moons, Sahn did not even know her age.

“I heard where you were this morning.”

Sahn and Kale both turned to stare at Shay, bent backward slightly from the weight of the crate in her arms, overflowing with jars and packages filled with fresh apothecary herbs. Sahn looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. Kale’s face glowed as red as the clover fermenting in its jar. He rushed to her, seizing the crate. “Let me take that, my love.” Shay’s amber eyes never left Sahn as her arms fell away. Sahn went back to work, suddenly very interested in the alignment of the shelves. Behind him, he heard her footsteps padding closer and closer, until he felt her warmth at his back. “You went to the Daughters’ Temple today,” Shay sighed. “You know how I feel about them.”

“Sister Maudra just mended some scrolls, Ma,” Sahn mumbled.

But there was no fooling Shay Darru. “She’s mad,” she pressed, more forceful than usual. “She’s always been mad. That’s why she’s alone.” Sahn flinched as though she had slapped him. “Of all the people on this island, why do you go to her?”

Sahn said nothing, putting scrolls in the wrong places, then the right, then the wrong again. The first warm day of spring wafted into the open windows of the outside corridor, blocking in the heat like an oven. Specks of dust waltzed about the sunbeams. Sahn wished he could be one of those specks, dancing out into the corridor, into the courtyard, anywhere but here. “First there was the old man in the northern monastery,” Shay went on. “Then, there was that homeless boy. Then, your cousin- oh, your cousin.” He could hear her rubbing her brow. “I just don’t understand-”

“Am I not allowed to talk to anyone, then?” He had not meant to sound churlish, but it came out as such.

“Listen, Sahn. We…” she trailed off. Sahn still did not turn around, but he knew she stood there now, her hands on her hips, her eyes on her feet. His irritation began to melt like ice in the sun. Of course, his mother wanted him to talk to people. She just didn’t want him to talk to Kelshins.

In her eyes, he may as well have been talking to skoiias.

Shay tried again. “There isn’t anything for us here, Sahn. These people won’t… Ever since Jehra…” Her voice fractured. Now she truly could not go on. Sahn faced her then, touching his brow to hers. He breathed deeply, prompting her to do the same, in and out, in and out. The pain, the heaviness in her eyes made her somehow look both too old and too young at the same time.

It was the one story that she could never tell; the story of a girl who ran away from a man who bought her, and returned ten years later with a Vyornish husband, a toddler son, and a pregnant belly. Both she and Kale thought their children did not notice the scornful glares, the pointing fingers, the giggles and smirks. It weighed on them like boulders, their shoulders hunched, dragging them through the mud and muck. The monastery was the only place that gave them work (the pension was barely enough for coal, but it was better than sleeping in a rubbish heap). Kale could help in the fields, but that was expected. The other men could only work for a few hours at a time, but Kale could glean until the sun Tuma made his leap across the sky, pulling the plow himself, leaving the munts to graze happily to the side. Shay sighed heavily, turning her head to rest on the hollow of his shoulder. Sahn wished he could take her pain from her like a dirty cloak and throw it in the river. But all he could do was hold her until, finally, she pulled away, meeting his eyes.

“We’re leaving soon,” she whispered. “Don’t forget that.”

Oh, Ma… Sahn stifled a sigh, forcing a smile to his lips. Shay kissed his temple before trotting off back down the corridor, leaving Sahn to lose himself in the silence.

“You can’t kiss a goddess, Da.”

“And why not? You can kiss a ghost.”

“You cannot.” Sahn’s laugh sputtered into a groan as his stomach twisted again, reprimanding him for leaving it unfed. He hadn’t realized that he had missed both lunch and teatime until the library grew suddenly, immensely hot. He looked up from his scroll to see the sun Tuma searing in through the windows. It mercifully vanished behind the slope of Gleaner’s Hill as Sahn and Kale ascended the zigzagging streets.

“I’ll show you,” Kale scoffed. “One day, you and I will both climb up to the Baltha itself and-”

“Kiss a goddess?” Sahn asked, wry.

“Well, now. I didn’t say that. I said-”

But Sahn had already accelerated his pace, hollering toward the glowing windows of their house. “You say you’re going to kiss a goddess, Da? I hope Ma knows.”

“Quiet, you.” Kale slung his gargantuan arm around Sahn’s neck, silencing him with a deep, throaty laugh.

The Darrus’ house stood tall and lopsided, built upward rather than outward, squashed between two squatter buildings like a scroll shoved into a too-small space. The street was bare, everyone else already inside enjoying their dinners. Smells wafted from the string of open windows; fish and rice, wines and sweets and frying bread. But the cloying perfumes of Shay’s apothecary herbs could not be masked. Despite the previous heat of the sun, the evening but with cold, and Sahn craved the delicious warmth that awaited him inside.

“Halt.”

Sahn and Kale stopped short, turning to the threadbare curtain draped limply beneath the front steps. “You are not taking another step,” the voice announced, “until you witness my latest creation.”

The curtain flew open in a flurry of metal shards catching in the dim light. Every inch of Arelya’s cloak was covered in assorted gears and screws shoddily sewn. Some held fast, some dangled precariously from their strings, clattered to the cobbles as she twirled around. The noise was like tinkling bells. “What do you think?” she asked, beaming.

Sahn’s mouth hung open in humoring amazement, but Kale was blunt. “What is it?”

Arelya shrunk a bit. “Well, it’s nothing, really. I just decided to sew everything to my cloak.”

“Why?”

Arelya only sighed. “I’m unappreciated in my talents.” With that, she hopped onto Sahn’s back, her knees pressing into his sides, arms constricting around his thin neck. “Onward, my prized stallion,” she cried. “There is food to be eaten.”

“Ari,” Sahn chuckled through his startled coughs. “Please. If you keep this up, I’ll gain a hump on my back.” “Good,” said Arelya, planting a hard kiss on his cheek. “It will make it easier to climb. Now, hush. Horses don’t talk.”

Sahn began to walk- hobble, actually- up the steps. “Come on, Da,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m sure Ma didn’t hear your intentions.”

His smile fell immediately at the sight of his father’s face. Kale gaped down the dimly lit street, his face blanching from copper to beige, as the two hulking figures stalked up the hill toward the three. Sahn was suddenly unaware of Ari’s weight sliding down his back. Kale backed away deliberately, placing a steady hand on Sahn’s shoulder. One of the men nodded. He nodded back stiffly, herding Sahn and Ari into the house, leaving the door open behind him.

“Finally,” Shay called from the dining room. “I nearly started without you. Come and eat.”

#saga #storyteller #chapter #two #original #fiction #fantasy

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