Lorelie: The Cartographer

Consciousness came with an familiar sound. The rocking of the wood of the carriage could be caused by anything from the morning winds to a tomi, large eight-legged creatures with long claws on each leg whose ferocity was as bad as their bite. Or an alkono. Winged women whose curiosity is only matched by their shyness. But no. The culprit was him. "Wakey, little royal." Keric's voice was unnecessarily jovial at this hour. "You said you wanted to wake up at 'first light'. Here we are." A mocking grin across his face. "Keric," my voice thick with disappointment, "'first light' entails that the giant ball of light, the sun if you will, peaks over the horizon. Not hidden behind the hill like a cat waiting to pounce." his only reaction was to furrow his brow at the word 'ser' "Well, like a cat, you choose to lay in lazily while the early birds seek their meal." a smug expression turns contemplative, "Damn. How did that keeper put it..." A grin begins to form despite my groggy anger. The phrase that the tavernkeep in question lived by was 'The early bird gets devoured by the wyrm.' A testament to the fact that he lived most of his life at night. Now several days behind us, I could not help but wonder how he was doing after his bar had become a battlefield of sorts. Through tired eyes, a dim light seeps through the purple-hued wood of the carriage as I right myself and reach for my coat. The gesture enough to satisfy my nanny, who seemed to decide to tend to the fresh campfire behind him. A pot dangled over the flame with what I assume Keric is warming our breakfast. The door to the cart leads to the vast forest we had made camp. Thankful for the coat's protection against the brisk air as the morning breeze brings a shiver through my body. I take in the massive trees that would ensure that when the sun did rise, very little light would reach the ground below them. "I apologize," as the realization descends upon me, "It is later than I thought." My apology seemingly falling to deaf ears before a simple wave confirms Keric's ears do, in fact, work. Lei and Gaioth. Give me patience. Stepping away from the camp should do me well. Venturing through the treeline via the path we used to find our camp, I emerge onto the main road from Illarus that we had been slowly traveling eastward. Continuing down the path, a large clearing, not far from the camp path, opens up. The ground was empty save for what looked like the torn remnants of a tent, canvas lined with moss indicating its abandonment had not been recent. "This should suffice." My words aimed at no one. Standing near the center, I place my hand on the cool ground. Focus. Eyes now closed as my breath steadies, preparing for what is to come, as I feel my senses seep into the earth. Arise The ground beneath me begins to lift me, sinking the ground around the central pillar, now lifting me higher and higher into the air. The trees become peers for a moment before they become part of the landscape as I rise above them. The rush of heights raises my pulse as the world around me becomes smaller and smaller, the details less sharp before I bring the platform to a stop. "Amazing...." The orange hues of the rising sun paint the sky as I take in the ground below me from the view of a bird. A view that I feel I may never tire from. The vast forest that begins at the end of the farmlands to the west stretches for miles. Even from this vantage, the forest is the only land visible to the east, with the mountains to the north being the only natural monument in view. To the west, the large towers of Illarus sit at the edge of the continent, the sea hidden by the hills that rise up as if to meet the waves, while to the south more trees stretch as far as I could see. Below, a winding path marking the road can be seen before its almost lost to the forest, where only a sharp eye can discern where the trees have been cleared for carriages and carts. Reaching into my coat, the folded pages of the past few days of work emerge as I kneel down, placing the pages in sequence as I form the ground to protect them from the now windy environment. The ink is not that of a landscape, but of the world from above. Notes and new drawings mark the pages as I add more to the paper with the clear view that the sun slowly provides as it makes its daily venture across the sky. The shadows formed from the light giving me hidden details of the land. "An unmarked road", the birds flying past my only audience. "And a clearing... here." Notes and lines produced quickly at first before I reigned in my trained tendencies. "It is not a battlefield, Ai. Take your time." Forcing my mind to focus on a set point of my work. A clearing where no road connects to the main road. Nothing could be there, or I could be home to bandits hoping that no one patrols the skies near them. Peering back west, the capital of the empire still sits stoically against the sea. Smaller than yesterday but not nearly as small as it should have been now that we are four days into our travels. Still, I had not expected my venture to happen so soon. The efforts made for over a fortnight to find someone who would take on the task of 'care taking' the Grand Generals Son had been one fraught with denial after denial. The effect of my father's requirements for my venture. A bodyguard willing to essentially sign their life away to a 'high-born prick' as many of the guilds had put it. I had taken to tavern-crawling along the docks where many of the mercenaries make their trade, and even they laughed me out of most taverns. "I cannot understand why he accepted this job." my voice relived despite myself. "I do not even know if I should be happy he did." Keric smug grin he seemed keen on keeping plaster across his face came to my mind as I closed my eyes, the breeze taking me back west.... 6 days ago My list is getting shorter and shorter. " I REALLY hate him sometimes." disdain ripe within my tone. "It is just his way of making sure you are safe." Val's voice more controlled than normal "General Lorelie simply wants you to exercise caution." The word 'caution' grating against my ears. "No." anger building up around my neck, "He simply thinks that my venture is a fools' errand. Otherwise, he would not have given me such a steep wall of restrictions." Slapping the list of notes I had taken. "No soldiers. No city watch. AND they must sign a contract where, should something happen to me, they would suffer the same consequences as a traitor to the empire. DAMN HIM!" Fury released as my fist struck the stonewall of our home, chips of granite coat the stonework at our feet as my knuckles sting. "Ai, Plea-" "Do NOT defend him then." Val's eyes widened at the interjection. "If you are willing to waste time consoling me whilst excusing our fathers' actions, then let us go to the docks. There are several taverns I wish to visit." Tho, sadly, not to drink. Taking a moment to contemplate his next response, Validan stood still, contemplating my request. It had been a while since I had seen him outside his normal kit of guard armor. Today he had chosen to tie up his long black hair in a high ponytail, bangs pulled tightly toward the knot. His shirt is nothing special, the whites and browns of our house colors, with black trousers meant for travel or garden work. Despite his appearance, his stance was that of a practice soldier, giving little to no detail though body language but prepared to act at a moment's notice. The typical smile he normally marked our time together was replaced with a dour look that wished to be anywhere else. Lei. I remember when he was a cadet dressed in worn leathers until he graduated and was given fresh ones only to have worn those down to the battered stretched pieces you miss after those training days. The tightness of the new leathers not only restricts your movement but makes you feel exposed despite the contrary. He had taken to wearing plates on his upper body once he adjusted, though I do not think he will ever be a comfortable as father is, whose capacity of writing correspondence in full plate was a feat beyond me. Val's sigh drags me back to the present as it breaks the silence. "Fine Aiden. Let me grab my coin and change, and we shall head forth to the docks." Resignation clean in his voice, he pivoted and walked out as I thanked him. My room now vacant of my brother, I could not help but feel renewed hope. The desk which I leaned upon, now clear of any sort of work, would be sorely missed if I finally succeeded in finding someone to see me on my venture. The books and scrolls that lined the surrounding shelves had all been neatly cataloged in anticipation of leaving and would also be missed for their details written about the world within them. And Validen is who I would miss the most, despite my excitement for his assistance in helping me leave. A map of Illarus adorns the wall near the study door, directly across from the desk. A spiders' web of streets and alleys that branch out from Castle Aurendale, the home to every ruler of the Auralion Empire. The most difficult part to illustrate was the interconnections between the layers of the city. The feature is lost from a bird's eye but intimidating as you approach the city from the east as the castle looms over both the land and the sea. One island in particular made it onto the parchment as it houses many of the cadets for the empire's army and watch. Training grounds I am still familiar with to this day. The mirrored door to the chifferobe reflected not the cadet I once was, but a tired figure from long nights in the many wards of the city. Light brown hair, a mess in what had started as a simple braid, had turned into a messier ponytail than Val's, especially since I had let it grow longer than his, a feature he found amusing. Silver eyes tarnished with dark smudges, making them look grayer than normal. The thought of using a bit of concealer my aunt had tossed at me when she saw my state is becoming more and more warranted despite my hate for such things. "Bah. Let them see that I am tired." The rest of my kit is basic, and intended for flexibility, my tan coat over my evening garb fabricated to have concealed hard leather in the sleeves. The same goes for the dark trousers, though that caused them to be tighter than intended. Their practicality remained intact. "I should do something with my hair." Knots were clearly visible as I approached the chifferobe to pull out a brush to tackle my appearance as I waited for Val. Between the two of us, he still took the longest to get ready, especially if we were outside a professional setting. The wrapping at my door indicated that Val had finally prepared himself. Checking my coat to ensure I had my notes, though most of them were already scratched out, I made for the door, opening it to reveal a now well-dressed Validen. The colors he had picked were similar to his previous clothes but now featured a white buttoned up shirt with a black vest and dark yellow jacket. Pants well tailored in the same dark tones. How he found the time to braid his hair into the intricate masterpiece that now highlights his olive skin, a trait we both share, was beyond me. "Are you ready?" His eyebrows lifted inquisitively "Does a wyrm breath fire?" + + + The journey from the Grand Generals estate is an uneventful one, save for the moment we savored as the sun kissed the ocean, painting the sky and city in an ethereal orange hue as we descended towards the docks. The High Ward, home to nobles of Illarus as well as higher officials from the Guard and Legion, is much quieter than the hustle of the busy markets that line the piers and streets of the docks. The noise grows from a welcome distraction to my insecurities about tonight's endeavor to an agitation stoking the flames of my anger as the constant need to navigate around drunkards and hawkers as we exit the third tavern in one of the seediest parts of the dock. None of the transient mercenaries were willing to accept my offer. "I guess wyrm's cannot breathe fire." Validen's attempt at humor only proded a sigh that was drowned out by the noise. "You keep accepting every drink from every moon-eyed patron who finds you attractive, and you'll be the one breathing fire." My choice of words over violence continues without giving Val a chance to respond. "What will Captain Droseth say when you show up flinching at every torch and window in the keep?" "Ol' Seth? He knows I am a 'man about town'" despite his breath, Val's wit still seems intact, though distracted at every passing person who notices my regrettably handsome brother. "s**t. Speaking of Seth, he told me to give you his regards and wished to give you something for your travels." Validen begins shifting through his dress wear, tho when he produces a hefty pouch from his near form fitting trousers I couldn't help but wonder how he even hid the thing. "Here." "This seems like quite a lot of coin." The pouch's weight more than I expected when Val placed it in my hand. Seth had always been as generous as he was strict. Val's head shakes as we continued down the docks towards the less unkempt side of the ward. "It is not just from Seth. He collected from anyone willing to donate. Said that he found out that the Grand General had made your request difficult and wanted to help." "This would have been lovely three taverns ago. I could have used it as a down payment to any of the mercs that seemed even remotely interested." My voice flat as I kept what anger had built up in me to a simmer. Realization strikes Val as he stammers out an apology. "A-ai? I didn't mean-" He mind catching up to his mouth. "I am sorry. That might have worked in your favor." as he points back towards the taverns we had just left. He turns to me, eyes a bit more sober than before, and sees that I have lifted my hand up, index finger raised. "Just meet me at Glastin's in an hour." a bright light shoots from my finger into Val's eyes as he curses his blindness. "You think you would learn...." His eyesight would return shortly, tho hopefully the walk without him would clear my head, my anger at his lack of foresight while knowing that I am trying to expedite things still fresh as I leave him holding he eyes as a bystander approaches him asking if he is alright. Quick to leave in case anyone reported an unsanctioned usage of magic within the city, the docks stretch out like fingers of wood emerging from a hand of stone. The now busy fishmongers light up the night with their stands set opposing the taverns. Behind the stands are numerous piers with seacrafts of different sizes, from quick sloops meant for lighter travel to larger vessels for heavier affairs. The few boats out in the open port fly the colors of the Auralion Empire as they patrol the waters listlessly, as they are more than likely anchored to prevent them from drifting into the piers. Merchant vessels baring no indications of loyalty are docked near Glastin's Cup, a tavern I have made my usual haunt over the years as it sits near the center of the entire docks. A prime location for merchants and mercenaries to intersect. Many guilds are also regulars, though they will be of little concern as I am 'not allowed' to hire any guilds, according to the current Guildmaster, after I brought the contract to him to see if anyone would be willing to accept such harsh terms for an venture in cartography. In short, he said 'I could go shove the contract somewhere Lei cannot see.' "Hopefully there are mercs traveling through that would not mind a nice hefty start." The three merchant vessels in front of Glastin's bringing me more hope with the pouch in hand. With full tables and various hosts and hostesses carting drinks from small glasses of liquor to large pitchers of ale, the tavern itself is in full swing. A set of stringed musical instruments accompanied by a single bass drum play themselves on a stage set to the right of most of the tables as they fill the room with an upbeat movement. The owner, Shahan Glast, had once been a composer who used his fine-tuned magic to play those instruments in different courts across the continent from Illarus to Zaphala, if his tales were to be believed. He once said that the tavern had saved his life, though he never quite got drunk enough to regale me with that tale. Glast stood across the counter with several bottles lining the wall behind him as a patron points towards their choice for the evening, but before the composer turned bartender could turn to grab the bottle from the shelf they locked eyes with me, the band skipping a beat before resuming as if the notes were intentional. "Aiden! You having your usual or are you here on strict business?" The flamboyant tone, a welcoming familiarity as I approach the bar. Glast was well past his prime but still managed to wear wrinkles in a way that I knew I would one day be envious of. His lithe lanky frame built for handling instruments lent itself well to reaching the top shelf bottle his current client had requested. "No, no. Don't tell me." His eyes focused on me as 3 glasses set themselves on the bar for him to fill with the bottle now in hand. "Darling, you need to set down your business some day soon, or you'll have all the worry showing in your skin." "I shall have a few drinks once I accost a few of your patrons. Assuming you have anyone willing to take freelance work from a high-born..." The last statement a repetition of the last mercenary I made my offer to. It was not that the reward was not enough for the work, but that tying their well-being to mine, regardless of whether they could prevent anything from happening, seemed to be the most difficult hurdle. An aspect of the contract that I know my father had hoped would impede my efforts. "Still no luck, I take it." Glast's expression turned to one of pity and understanding, "Well, so long as you're here, you are welcome and, if anyone asks, have my permission to speak to anyone you think may take your offer." "You are very kind Sha, Thank you." His overdramatic bow to his next flowing movement to another bar goer down the counter is always a sight to behold as he avoids his helpers behind the bar that are cleaning. "Right." My focus turns to the patrons of Glastin's. Only a few catch my eye. A young blond man sits near the back of the tavern dressed in motley leathers as if he had just come off an adventure of sorts and wanted to grab a drink before doing anything else. Another had me waving Shahan discreetly to me. "Is that one supposed to have a weapon at his side?" It was not uncommon for owners to hire security outside the guard, but they had to be guild approved or be on the city registry to carry a weapon. Shahan's suddenly pale expression gave me cause to worry, "He has no such thing, does he?" The person in question was a lithe as Glast but much more toned with tanner skin. His hair, black, short and messy atop his head as he seemed to be writing in a busy tavern. The sword in question was large and unmistakable as it was set next to his satchel. Hesitating for a few seconds as I squint at the strange man across the room, "You are right. Must have been the pillar he is sat next to." Lying in the hopes Sha could not read me. Fortunately, another patron stepped up to save me from a better explanation. Using the distraction, I made my way towards the figure, who was bobbing his head to the music now as he wrote. Passing by another group of possible prospects, I noted that one of them was wearing a shirt embroidered with a pair of crossed swords. Guild of the Cross. No need to speak with them then. As I approached the lithe 'scholar' I could see no ink on the paper where his quill struck, raising more flags in my mind. Before I could speak, he grabbed the stein next to where his sword leaned against the table and lifted it towards me. "Another ale with a spike of Valkar spice please." Not even bothering to stop writing a look up at me. "If that would get you to listen to my request, gladly." His quill stops at my words as he finally turns to me. Two crimson eyes looked befuddled at me as brows suddenly raised in realization before placing the stein back on the table. Close up he seems not much taller than me, though it was hard to assess sitting down. A cross-shaped scar under his left ear was now visible as he seems to evaluate me. His white shirt, though finely made, seemed to be fraying near the edges of his collar. "Are you here to simply write notes or are you perhaps a mercenary or foreign legionary?" My eyes intentionally glance at where his sword is before locking my eyes back to his. "Nah. Lumberjack." His grin smug as he looks away from me to shift through his paper, all seemingly unmarked. "I am certain I could find a few trees for you to cut down." my patience quickly thinning. Leaning back, his crimson eyes once again lock onto mine. "And would I have to carry the logs as well?" His messy hair shifting to cover one eye as he tilts his head as he prods me. I want to punch him. Lumberjack or no, to have a concealed weapon made him a criminal or mercenary. Dammit. Reaching into my coat, I pull out a folded sheet and held it towards his tilted head. "Would you at least read the request, I will be here at least an hour and you are free to decline by never speaking to me again." Surprisingly, he takes the pamplet and opens it. Using his distraction, I turn on my heel when I suddenly feel an iron grip around my wrist. "Unhand me." The grip loosens but still stays firm as he points to the blonde figure at the back table of the tavern. "If you're going to him next, be wary. He has been there since I sat down and never ordered a drink." His sarcasm gone as he lets go of my hand and continues to read the copy I gave him. "Understood." Brutishness aside, information is information. The tavern itself was still filling with patrons as I approached the young man whose medium-length blonde hair was shifting as he looked on at the patrons who were taking a seat near his table. He almost didn't see me until I was upon the table, whereupon he lifted his hand up and shook his head as if I was about to ask if he wanted a drink. Shaking my head in response, "No, no, I just wondered if you were a mercenary." His blue eyes locked onto mine as his expression changed from trepidation to... relief? "W-why yes, Y-yes I am! L-looking for a b-bodyguard?" A common question that has led to disappointment so far. "Correct, but first let me inform you of what the request would entail. May I sit?" + + + With my venture now laid out in full. Bartze, who seems to hail from Zaphala to the east, looks back at me with less trepidation than when I began, yet his skin seemed slick with sweat. "And you asked all the guilds?" His accent still throwing my ears for a loop as his excitement adds a layer of complexity. "Indeed. Unfortunately, they have ensured that no one of the guilds would sign my contract." Its binding nature the cause of so much grief. "They also see no benefit from mapping the unknown lands where 'Civilization cannot thrive'." My agitation must have been more intense than I intended as Bartze seemed much smaller suddenly, "W-well the contract does state that the consequences for losing you is death correct? I can see why they wouldn't want the risk" "Technically, 'Death' is not the punishment for assaulting a highborn unless that assault leads to death." Semantics really. At best, by this contract, you would be blacklisted by the empire and no longer be able to work within it or its allies' borders. At worst, you would be tortured until you chose death. "Hmm... In that light it does seem feasible..." His voice still uncertain "The reward is substantial tho!" Bartze eyes dart back and forth between me and the paper. This is the closest anyone has come to accepting these terms. Perhaps it is time to tilt it in my favor. My eyes drift towards the black-haired 'lumberjack' as I reach into my coat to produce the pouch that Validen delivered to me, albeit not in a timely fashion. His sword still leaned up against the table. How he is hiding that from everyone else, I may never know. "---den. Aiden?" Barze's voice snapping my focus back to him. "Yes?" The choice must really be stressing him. His hair now soaked with sweat as it is weighted down across his face before he slicks it back once more. Maybe this is too much for him. The fear of being so close yet so far sets in as I speak "Ser Bartze, I can see this may be too much for you. Than-" "I'll do it!" His words lighting a sudden joy in me. "I accept your venture." I had not noticed he had reached his hand out to grab my arm as I reached into my coat. Have I done it? After weeks of searching, had I finally found someone willing to sign this forsaken contract? Uncertainty takes hold as I remember my assessment of him being very green. He could be taking such a task for an early retirement. Or perhaps he sees me as a noble to take hostage. Either prospect would be fine by me. He would be taking off much more than he could chew with the latter. "Then let us finalize the deal." Unwilling to let the momentum of the moment die, I let go of the pouch and reach into the other side of my coat where the contract sits folded. My heart stops the instant my hand finds nothing in the pocket. Where is it?! My hands begin to scramble as I stood, fervently searching for the contract, checking to make sure the copy I handed Bartze was not the real thing. Reaching into my other pocket, I produced the 2 pamphlets and the pouch of coins. None of them matched the parchment that the contract had been written on. "I-is everything a-alright?" Bartze stutter an indiction that his initial trepidation had returned. "Ai! There you are!" My name suddenly shouted from across the room as I pivot to see what appeared to be a very drunk Val as he stumbles towards me. "Why are you in the darkest part of the room." His focus shifted to Barze, "Have you found your maaaan?" Val's voice thick with tease. I may kill him one day. "You are a lucky one, fellow good ser, if you take this job!" Val leans towards Bartze as he takes my seat. "Easiest job you will ever get." Bartze himself seems much more distressed now that Val was sitting across from him, his sweat nearly pouring off him. Something is not right. "Now," Validen continues. " You seem like a capable mercenary. And this. This is the oppert-" Val's hesitation brings me back from my scramble to find my contract. "Have I seen you before? "N-no Sir." Bartze's blue eyes darkened underneath his hair. "Hold on." Validen pulls out a small trinket from his vest pocket. He flips it open, a small about of light emits that turns from blue to red. "That can't be right..." Validen taps the device as he looks at Bartze, eyes wide as Bartze's begins to rise up, the sweat that had fallen from him turning into tendrils of water as the world around us expolodes.