by OJ Lowe
Quote attributed to Reiko Masuda, Head of the Burykian Divine Conclave.
The tenth day of Summerdawn.
So, this was Hoko… A place he’d never been before and more than likely probably never would again… Ah, he’d seen worse places. Smelling that fresh country air for a change was quite refreshing, a lingering scent in the breeze that could be described as pleasant if he was honest. Scott was a city boy at heart, had been most of his life and being this close to nature always brought about mixed emotions, some about the idea of freedom, some about being away from everything that was familiar.
Still, getting out the aeroship felt great. Roomy, they were not, the three of them had been cramped up together for hours, the air was a welcome exchange from having his nose rammed into Pete’s shoulder. Scott stretched as he wandered down the stairs, his hands dropping back to the rail, the metal cold and the paint flaked underneath his palm. All that time and they were still only halfway there. Worse, it wasn’t like they’d done the stopover in any of the interesting areas of Burykia. The cities in this whole kingdom were fantastic, vibrant sprawling metropolises in which you couldn’t throw a stone without hitting something to do. He’d been here months now and the surface of things to see had been barely scratched. For a small country, probably the smallest of the five kingdoms according to census, there was a stupid amount of stuff to do. That was probably true of everywhere but here it was really in your face, you couldn’t avoid it.
Out here on the surface of it, this place was an ass-end of nowhere. Just a small dead town. The aeroship refuelling spot was about the only remarkable thing about it. And given how popular a method of travel it was, that just about said it all. By his guess, there were a few stores, an inn or two, a whole lot of those exotic looking Burykian huts made from stuff that looked like paper, and a statue. A big statue but too distant to make out from here. Didn’t even look like there’d be any indigenous wildlife he could make a play for. Still, with the tournament ahead, it wasn’t the best time to take on a new challenge.
Six hours to refuel, restock and move on. Six hours of nothing. Privately he was sure they didn’t need to take that long, but it was what it was. Six hours was what they’d been told and six hours was what they were going to have to pass.
“So,” Pete said. “Food?”
“Seems like the least we can do,” Jess said. She didn’t sound pleased about being stuck here either. For that, Scott felt a flicker of amusement. Funny that they felt the same way about that. Great minds stuck alike and all that. Amusement was replaced with that warm fuzzy feeling that was becoming more and more uncommon these days. They still thought alike. How awesome was that? Maybe things weren’t as bad as they looked. He had a beautiful girlfriend who loved him, that’s what she told him, agreed with him, shared a lot of the same interests and was coming with him to the biggest event of the year. Of any year, really. It sounded like a lie even in his head, he rolled his eyes out of her view.
“Reckon we can get something from home?” he wondered. “Because I’m getting sick of the local stuff.”
“Wait until we hit Carcaradis Island,” Pete said. “You ever eat Vazaran food? Prepare to have your ass blown out the first time.” He made an expanding gesture with his hands as he spoke, a roguish grin masking his features as he winked at Jesseka.
“Lovely,” Jess said sarcastically. “You know; I knew there was a reason I didn’t miss him travelling around with you.”
“It’s a gift. Give me any subject, I can make it so colourfully cringeworthy, it’ll astound you.”
She stared at him, shook her head in disbelief. “Peter Jacobs, next time you want to talk to me, put your hand up. Otherwise I’m not listening to you.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“La-la-la-la-la.” She stuck both her hands over her ears and made the sound. Loud and noticeable. A few people glanced at the three of them, Scott fought the urge to roll his eyes at the pitying looks. He hoped nobody recognised him.
“Okay, because that’s really mature,” Pete muttered. If anything, that made it worse. She couldn’t quite hide the grin as she did it.
“And attractive,” Scott added. “Jess, knock it off. You’re embarrassing us.” There were a few more amused faces on show as the banter had continued. She glanced around as if to confirm what he’d said wasn’t a lie, rolled her eyes and then strode off ahead with deceptive speed. Scott and Pete looked at each other and shrugged. The unspoken word lingered between them, a swift yet silent understanding of camaraderie in unity against a common enemy.
Women!
They’d found somewhere to eat, no problem. Since they were still in Burykia and not in a particularly commercial part of it, it was local cuisine or be fleeced at the aeroport for something that tasted like it had spent a week travelling in a dirty sweatbox from Premesoir or Canterage. Pete, being cynical, had quipped that was Premesoir cooking at the best of times. You didn’t want to see some of the worse places to eat. Scott didn’t mind too much.
His experiences in Burykia had told him that some of the small, out of the way places served just as good food as stuff you’d probably have to pay through the nose for in somewhere that had the basic amenities like running water in the bathrooms or air conditioning or even napkins and cutlery. Burykian food sat light on the stomach. More than that, it smelled damn good. Even walking the street, he could catch the aroma on the air of exotic sauces too unfamiliar to name offhand, all wafting on the air from a small café just down the way. The village had the one main street, they’d found themselves heading down it. Too small to have a calling champion, he’d stake credits on that, it wasn’t even as if the hours could be wiped away with the chance of prize money or even that tiny bit more experience.
“So,” Scott said, jerking his head towards the café. “There?”
“No complaints here,” Pete muttered. “Long as we get something.” He rubbed his stomach theatrically. “I miss aeroships that serve food. Damn budget transport.”
“I don’t see anywhere else around here,” Jesseka said. “Come on, let’s do it. Reckon we can get some of that Burykianberry wine. Never seen them serve it anywhere else.”
“Funny that,” Pete said dryly. “What an amazing coincidence you’ve never seen Burykianberries in any other kingdom than Burykia. It’s like they’re indigenous to here or something, but that’d be crazy, right?”
She punched him on the arm. “No need for that now, is there?”
It was Scott’s turn to shake his head. Still, he couldn’t hide the grin as they made the walk. Tournaments came and went, yet this was the life. You couldn’t compensate for times like this. Friends and loves out on the road, struggling to get by. Maybe he was an optimist. But a part of him had that sinking feeling that it wasn’t going to last forever. It tugged at him like a persistent pet, lurking in the back of the mind. He wanted so badly to ignore it.
It had been busier than they’d expected it to be in the café. They’d waited a few minutes for a table, eventually finding the one they’d been assigned to be halfway between the kitchen and the exit, out in the middle of the floor, a moderately sized circle with a pair of V shaped chairs around it. Scott sat on one side, Jess with him while Pete went to the other and flopped down into it.
He’d felt more than a little awkward as he’d walked through, people had glanced at them, they were the youngest people in the room by a mile. Everyone else looked like they’d succumbed to middle age long ago; some of them had long since left it behind them. Still, as Jess had said, it wasn’t like there was much else to choose from. And it wasn’t like anyone was bothering them.
The waitress, a plain-looking dark haired Burykian wearing a uniform for the trade had brought them menus and a large jug of water. In short order, three glasses were also on the table. Just as she’d hoped to, Jess had ordered some wine. Burykianberry wine was a deep shade of crimson, almost pink and had a spicy overtone to it. Both Scott and Pete had helped themselve
s to some of it, much to her mock chagrin and the food had followed soon after, the sauces smelling even better up close. Nothing fancy just meat and rice, noodles and peppers and tomatoes cut together and fried in the local delicacies.
Scott’s food had a rich taste of onion, garlic and lemon to it, the flavours clashing in his mouth. That was the beauty of Burykian food. You’d never expect it to catch on as a trend but it didn’t just work, it thrived completely. The wine aside, you could find places in all the five kingdoms that sold the food ready made up for those that either couldn’t or wouldn’t prep it themselves.
Jess’ food was just as good, she speared a length of prawn coated in a thick purple-ish coloured broth and bit down on it, halving its size with one motion. She let out a little moan of contention; he had to smirk at that. He’d heard her make that sound before, never in public.
“Is that genuine aphrashi?” Pete wondered, looking over his dish of ginger noodles and stuffed peppers. Scott noted he still wasn’t eating meat. He had to give his friend credit; he’d kept that vow up a lot longer than he thought he would have.
“Yup,” Jess said. “Good aphrashi.” She took another bite, swallowed and smiled. “You ever eaten it?”
“I’ve tasted the sauce in the past. I know a guy who used to drink a cup of it every day. For his health, he said.”
“Well there you go,” Scott said. “Can’t argue with that. Don’t want you getting sick, eh? How’s the noodles, Petey?”
“Fair. Ginger’s a bit strong,” he said. “That aside, it’s good.”
Scott made a face at the mention of ginger. “Don’t understand how you can eat that stuff, it’s foul.”
“Can’t beat a bit of ginger,” Pete said. “Excluding present company obviously,” he added, gesturing a fork towards Jess’ hair.
“Do you mind? Someone might lose an eye. Especially if you call me ginger again. This is auburn, you blind dick,” she said, furrowing an eyebrow. Scott smirked inside. He’d seen that before. And he had to admit, it looked fantastic.
“Ginger if you’re a guy,” he said. “Redhead or auburn if you’re a girl. That’s the way my sister used to tell it.”
“Sounds about right,” Scott said before the thought struck him. “Sharon’s a blond!”
“She wasn’t always.”
There wasn’t much arguing with that. His experiences with Pete’s sister were a mixed bunch and not ones he wanted to dwell on when he’d rather be eating
They’d continued the meal, finishing the main and moving onto a final course on Pete’s suggestion, a sticky local delicacy that tasted of honey and nuts, coated in cream. One large dish and three spoons, the way the waitress assured them it was meant to be eaten in broken words. Looking around told Scott that she wasn’t lying. A few other tables had the dish out on it, whole families enjoying it at their leisure. Jesseka had taken one bite and refused to eat any more. He couldn’t fault her. The nuts were bitter and the honey had a strange tang to it, not unpleasant but a flavour he wasn’t quite able to place. The cream was horribly sweet to the point it made him want to cringe. Still, he’d managed to get a decent helping down, once he’d gotten used to the strange blend of textures and flavours, he’d found it wasn’t that bad. Jess on the other hand had helped herself to more of the wine, blood flushed into her face as she drained the contents of the glass.
As Pete had excused himself, he’d found his mind wandering onto the Quin-C and what was to come. It was not to be a long train of thought, he found himself distracted by Jess sidling up to him on the strange shaped chairs, rubbing his chest with her hand.
“Hey,” she murmured. She sounded a little sleepy. He put an arm around her, kissed her forehead tenderly. He could smell the sauce on her breath as she exhaled. “Remember how we were supposed to be on vacation? And now we’re running across the kingdom again.”
“Yeah… I know,” he said. “Sorry.”
“Why is it whenever we get comfortable, something shows up?” she asked, straightening herself up. Annoyance had crept into her voice and he didn’t like the way it looked like it might be about to go. “If it’s not Pete, it’s someone else. If it’s not someone else, it’s something else. Where does it end? I mean I was enjoying that hotel. We were relaxing. Together. Just you and me. And then we get kicked out because he froze up the swimming pool when you fought him. Asked never to return as well.”
“It thawed out,” Scott said. “And…”
“And you didn’t help things either. You don’t have to fight someone just because you were challenged to a duel.”
That stung a bit, he blinked several times. How in the hells was he supposed to put her right diplomatically? How was he to tell her that that was exactly what he had to consider doing? It was part of the Caller Code. Still, what more to expect from her. She could be like this sometimes. Usually when he least expected it. Usually best just to ride it out. She didn’t understand. More than that, she didn’t want to understand.
“I said I was sorry about that,” he said slowly. “I didn’t invite him. What can I do when he shows up uninvited?”
She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. This, he didn’t find adorable. Rather, the opposite. It made him want to tell her to shove her suspicions where the sun wouldn’t touch them for a thousand years.
“How did he find us?”
Scott gulped; suddenly realising he didn’t have an answer to that question. It was like being interrogated by one of those Unisco guys. You probably were guilty; they just hadn’t decided what of yet. Passing it off as luck wasn’t going to cut any ice. She had the look of a hungry dragon about her, intensely focused on pouncing when he tripped up.
“Okay, so I might have been in touch,” he muttered. “I got a message off him; he said he needed to talk. I didn’t know he was going to show up. Just like I didn’t know I was going to go to the Quin-C.”
His voice rose, he felt angry as he said it. He was amazed nobody had glanced over to see the source of the argument. Maybe they didn’t understand the language. Or care. Nice if Hoko was the only town in the kingdoms where you could have an argument without everyone trying to listen in. It was unlikely. Nosey bastards existed everywhere; it was a sad fact that they were never going to go extinct. “Let’s not start this stuff again.”
“What stuff?” She sounded genuinely outraged. “What stuff are we talking about then? Come on, let’s hear it. This should be good.”
Coming to a place that served wine had been a stupid thing to do, in hindsight. He didn’t know who was worse. Her for doing it, or him for facilitating it.
“Jess…” he started to say. “I mean it. Let’s not do this. I’m not in the mood.” He meant it as well, letting the hard edge creep into his voice. It might not do a damn bit of good, if she meant to go off on one, there was little he was likely to be able to do to halt it. All he could do was just go with the flow and hope it wasn’t too bad. “Stop. Calm down. You’ll embarrass yourself.”
That was the moment Pete chose to return, dropping down on his chair with a sigh of relief.
“Who’s embarrassing who now?” he asked with interest. “What did I miss while I was out?”
Scott caught Jess’ eye. He shook his head ever so slightly, mouthing the word ‘truce’ at her. It’d wind her up, he knew that if the past was anything to go by, but at the same time she was just too damn proud. Whatever their problems were, it was between her and him. And while she might be okay doing the argument in front of complete strangers who she would never see again, doing it in front of someone they both knew was something entirely different. It was anathema to her. She’d rather die. Even if it was someone she didn’t much care for, like Pete. Strange but something he was entirely thankful for. He didn’t want to have to put up with her shit for much more than he had to. That was enough for tonight.
Either way she nodded and that was enough for him. That was the end of it. He hoped.
“Ah, were just talking,” he said. “Just
about something that happened the other day. Was funny. You had to be there, right Jess?”
“Yeah, right,” she said lazily. “Something happened other day. Was funny. You had to be there apparently.”
He rolled his eyes at her, fought the urge to shake his head at her. You could at least make the effort, he felt like saying. It wouldn’t have done anyone any good. For a moment it might have felt good but the long term would have been killer. It would have been monumentally stupid. Last thing he needed was a blazing row. Second to last thing he needed was Pete’s inevitable sarcasm following the blazing row.
“Anyway, are we paying and getting out of here?” he eventually did say instead. He avoided looking at Jess as he got to his feet. “I mean, we can’t stay here forever now, can we?”
“I don’t know, it’s not a bad place,” Pete said. “Still I get what you mean. Moving on has its charms.”
“There’s probably worse places to be,” Jess muttered sarcastically. “I can think of better as well.” That was said with a pointed look at Pete who looked nonplussed at Scott, shrugging as if to say what have I done now. Scott rolled his eyes. There wasn’t an easy way for him to tell Pete to ignore her.
The aeroship wasn’t going to leave until the morning. With the food out of the way, Pete had suggested sleeping at the port, even seeing if they’d let them back on the ship for the night so they could at least suffer some semblance of comfort. Jess had been all for getting a room to share between the three of them. Scott had shot that idea down immediately. He’d travelled with Pete before, he knew for a fact he was a snorer and he didn’t want to suffer through it again unless he absolutely had to. Something which looked more and more likely by the minute. Plus, he didn’t want to listen to Jess complaining about Pete snoring in addition. Anything for a peaceful night.
Hence the wandering through the streets with the sunlight slowly fading and the nightlife, such as it was, coming gradually into a peak. Some activity lingered on the streets, but not much. It was a pleasant night, warm enough but without being overbearing. All in all, quiet but for the gentle wind sweeping listlessly through the emptying alleys, a lazy wind not entirely comfortable with its own presence by the sounds of it.