Reborn From the Cosmos

Arc 8-24

“Thank you for hosting us on such short notice, Lou.”

“Always happy to see a friend and friends of a friend.” Saints, she’s really walking around with pirates. It isn’t even the leather that gives them away. It’s the look. The one that’s quietly appraising the furnishings and assigning them value while also mocking them. It’s a particular brand of arrogance and opportunism I’ve only ever seen once, on the face of Arthur before Geneva taught him some civility while heavily traumatizing him. A special derisive confidence born from a culture where everyone, including their own, is prey to be plundered at any possible opportunity or subjugated to make hunting the other prey easier.

At least they have better manners than Arthur. As plain as their greed is, their bodies are rigid with discipline, or as much as I imagine loose characters like pirates can manage. They huddle together, hands at their sides as if they might catch an accusation if they dare move their fingers from their thighs, huddling together like a herd fending off predators. They might be villains, but they obviously know there is a time and place for their nature.

Except one. A woman with broad shoulders and a twitchy disposition. And a living shirt. I hope it’s a living shirt. Otherwise, she’s got rats snickering together under her shoulders. Or even more impressive muscles than her physique would suggest.

And saints, what are those eyes? Are those stars? I’m not sure, as I can only catch glances with her gaze rapidly bouncing all over the room. Though once I exchange greetings with the merchant, her eyes snap to me with an intensity that would make believe she fell in lust at first sight if there was anything even remotely sexual to the way she looks me over. It’s more hostile than that, with her lips curling into a faint sneer. I guess she isn’t a fan.

Amazingly, my unique new enemy is not the most surprising guest. That honor lies with Maxine, for her startling change. The short hair and plain clothes are an Abyss away from the maiden I met at the capital. It isn’t simply her appearance that’s been changed. That desperate energy that used to lurk beneath the surface of every conversation is gone. Perhaps buried under the exhaustion that seeps into her words and weighs on her shoulders.

“Well, come in and have a seat. It’s not a feast but there’s enough for everyone to eat and plenty to drink.” I wave for them to approach the table, where a whole side has been cleared for them. I smile as I see Maxine direct the pirates with just her eyes. At least she has some measure of control. Being the lackey of people like Arthur would be depressing. “What brought you here so late? Maybe you haven’t heard, but there are rebels about.”

“Really?” she asks with wide eyes. “Quest has never had a problem with bandits, it’s famed for it. Though I suppose with things as they are…” She gives me the start of a funny look before correcting herself. “There’s much I have to catch up on. We’ve just arrived.”

“And the first thing you did was visit me? I’m touched.”

I bat my eyes at her, not expecting any kind of reaction. I get a whole lot more than that from the woman with the dancing shoulders. She slams her palms on the table, interrupting her compatriots who are voraciously tucking into the food.

I’m going have to amend my statement that Maxine is the most startling of my visitors. She’s got a scarlet hand, for saints’ sake. Is that a fashion choice? Did she paint her hand just to make people’s jaws drop?

“Yer the lady that talks wit monsters, yeah?” she practically snarls.

“I don’t make it a habit to talk with unintelligent beasts, no, but I can point you to the Temple. They sound like what you’re searching for?”

“…you messin’ wit me, fancy pants?”

“Rey, please,” Maxine sighs with strained patience. Her soft rebuke/plea quietens the woman, who continues to stare at me with a tense jaw, her strange eyes shadowed by the wide brim of her hat.

The merchant inclines her head in a informal apology. “Forgive her. She’s been very excited to meet you.” Sure, in a ‘I really want to stick a knife in your guts’ way, I bet. “Lou, this is Reynela, a whaler from Graywatch. Rey, this is Lourianne Tome, a summoner.”

Oh, I see the misunderstanding. “Summoning doesn’t involve monsters but elementals, beings from other worlds that don’t have to be monstrous.”

My explanation doesn’t garner me any goodwill, the stranger continuing to stare at me with an uncomfortable intensity. I meet her gaze head-on, lips curling into a smile before I realize it. I don’t know, there’s just something amusing about her.

Maybe it’s the fact that her emotions are so clearly written on her face. It’s like children. No one is ever on guard against a couple of brats. Their openness is tied to their innocence, so it’s easy to assume the same connection in adults.

Though I’m curious what I’ve done to offend her.

Maxine brings my attention back to her by softly clearing her throat. “I rushed to see you as I heard reports of the battle.”

“And were you worried about me or what I’d done?”

“Both, of course.”

“But one more than the other.”

Her usual calculating gaze flicks over my face, trying to gauge my thoughts. Interestingly, instead of the look being followed by a carefully crafted response, I see the moment when she decides to throw her usual methods out the window. “Yes, one more than the other. Your current state and that of your house. After all, if you’re still angry with the city, we’re all royally fucked.”

A laugh bursts out of Kierra while I stare at the merchant with bulging eyes. Oh, what have these degenerates done to this sweet noble girl? “Rest assured, I don’t have problems with the city. I’d rather not have problems with anyone but I…” I shrug helplessly. This is a bit too much to forgive and forget, even if it’s for their own good.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Have you heard anything from Howie?”

Guilt. Immediate guilt. “No, unfortunately. We should pay him a visit. Oh, saints. If the city isn’t getting trade, then he’s not getting his supplies either.” That’s a tragedy.

“No need to worry, dedia,” Kierra quickly assures me. “The half grows his own mushrooms. This kingdom could hardly grow even a fungus of the Twilight province.”

“A Twilighter?” Morgene asks, her head snapping to her daughter, Geneva forgotten mid word. “Here?”

“A half from one of the goblinoid tribes. Very good brewer.”

I inwardly snicker at the way Maxine jumps while the mother and daughter converse. She must be more tired than I thought if she didn’t notice the other elves at the table. Now that she has, she can’t look away from them. But not my hateful observer. Her strange eyes haven’t left me for a moment, the intensity behind her gaze never waning.

“See something you like?” I tease, the words containing an edge of mocking rather than charm. I’m not saying she’s unattractive, but there’s something not quite right about her features. Especially her jaw. It seems a bit too wide and a bit too square. If throws off everything else, the way one wrong element can ruin a painting.

Her attitude makes it worse. She could pull off a roguish charm with the right smile I think, but her hostility isn’t doing her any favors. I only have two reactions to hostile people that aren’t beautiful women; either cowering in fear if they’re stronger than me and returning venom with venom if they aren’t.

She’s not stronger than me.

“I don’t like you,” she growls. Something that causes Maxine to crumble with dismay. I stop her pressing desire to intervene with a raised hand.

“You’re not making the best impression either.”

“Yer annoyingly pretty.”

“Thank you?” The way she says it, it almost feels like an insult.

“I want to squeeze that pretty little neck, but the voices don’t like that.”

Abyss take it, she’s a lunatic.

“And they like you. They really like you. They don’t want to eat your pretty eyes or rip out that pretty chest. They want to…to…” She bows her head with a groan, wrapping her large arms around herself.

Alright, maybe I won’t mock her. It’s no fun when the target is broken. After debating with myself and my new insights into my own personality, I hesitantly rise from my chair and walk over to her side, the eyes of the other pirates and even Maxine warning me against every step. They scoot away from the strange woman as I lay a hand on her shoulder. “Relax. Whatever’s wrong, this table is the best equipped to help you. It’ll be alright.”

Her groaning stops. Slowly, she turns her head to look up at me and I’m taken back by her eyes. The star-shaped pupils have turned into wells of darkness, pushing out the blue of her eyes until even my enhanced sight can only make out the faintest hint of color along the edge of darkness. They should be reflecting the lights of the room, but nothing can penetrate the two tiny Abysses. Like the space between the stars, there is a mystery in them, one that’s easy to get lost in. I lean toward her, confused and intrigued.