by Brian Beam
Relationship advice from squirrels is not to be trusted. From Geeron to Byweather, I followed Max’s guidance. I left Sal’ alone to give her time to cool down. What it got me was her continued silence all the way to Byweather.
Two full days of traveling and one night camped under the stars went by with not a word spoken to me except to call me a “lily-pants coward” when a spider crawling across my chest as I laid down to sleep made me jump out from under my blanket and proceed to run around, flinging off my shirt and beating my hands against my head and chest as if it were still on me. Hey, it was a big spider. Anyway, Sal’ didn’t even speak a word to me when she had to wake me up for my turn at watch.
The only other words out of her criticized that the cloaks I bought had no clasps with no mention of thanks for them in the first place. She dug out black thread and buttons from her backpack to create makeshift button clasps for her and Til’s cloaks. I had to settle for awkwardly tying the corners below the hood of mine together. The result made it tight enough around my shoulders to the point of worrying if I would have the freedom of movement to easily draw my sword if an eldrhim attacked. I guess it was my fault for not buying clasps, cloaks that came with clasps, or at least cloaks that were made to be tied. Still, she could have quit being so childish as to not fix mine.
I could have rigged something myself, but I felt that she would be even angrier at me if I did since I would be ruining whatever silly point she was trying to drive into me. I could have asked her for help, but Max said to give her space, so that’s what I did. Stupid magic talking wizard squirrel.
Now that I didn’t have Menar to randomly run into to give away where I was, magic stones to track me, or a magic sword on my person, I figured Raijom was unable to locate me since we made the trip to Byweather unmolested by eldrhims, wizards, or any other nasty surprises. I guess that gave me little I could truly complain about and I should have just been thankful for that.
To make sure that Til’ would not be as thrown off as I had been, I informed him of our change in destination for after we were done in Byweather. Til’ didn’t seem to care. He was just excited to be on an adventure. I still gave him the option of doing something not quite so life-threatening, but he claimed that going back to Isaeron was not an option and nothing else would be as fun.
Til’ vocalized his worry for what was going to happen once we reached Byweather multiple times, though. He really wanted to help me. I told him the same thing each time. I was going to take the egg to Galius alone and that same night I was going out to meet Bhaliel—also alone.
On the ninth evening of the renewed Activated Contract with Galius and the fourth night of my Activated Contract with Bhaliel, we had Byweather in our sights. Four and five storied buildings, all sharp angles and pragmatic architecture, rose into the moonlit sky over a twenty-foot, gray-stoned, semicircular outer wall. Large, square windows were sporadically lit up amongst the large manors and inns in the center of the city. Though the darkness of night obscured the color of the structures, I knew that most all the buildings in the central area of Byweather were a dingy gray as if they used to be white and had not been properly maintained.
The air took on the salty tang and dampness from the wind blowing in from the Dyanac Ocean on the southern end of the city. The temperature was already noticeably cooler than when I had been to the city just weeks before. Still, it was hard to care about the chill as I drew in deep breaths of the moist air as we approached. Something about ocean air and the sound of waves crashing puts my mind at ease.
I thought briefly back to when I first landed at Byweather’s port about a month prior. I remembered leading Telis off the trade ship with a map in hand, Max at my feet with a full belly of roasted salmon, and a pouch full of coin at my belt.
I had made a point of taking on Activated Contracts at any city I came to, never knowing for sure when my next chance for work would be. All I needed was to fulfill an Activated Contract in Byweather and then make my way up to Estus, the capital of Urdale, to resume the search for my parents. Even after using my Contract for three years worth of travelling, I was naïve enough about it that I felt comfortable taking my time with Galius’ Terms, taking weeks to learn a stupid card game to retain my sense of ethical standards. It’s amazing how much—and how quickly—life can change.
Now, here I was finding myself praying to gods that I wasn’t sure I even believed in to be able to fulfill my obligations to Galius and a Chralex-blooded dragon so that I could travel to Gualain to confront a wizard who was trying to kill me while hurting those I cared about in the process. Also, that wizard was apparently involved in starting a war and had an apprentice that intimidated the most adept wizard I knew of: Max. I was just one man with a couple of friends on my side. How was I supposed to stand up to that type of power? The short answer was that I couldn’t. The problem was that I had no other choice.
Estus and the capitals of the other kingdoms I had not yet visited were no longer worth stopping at in my mind. I now understood that the keys to finding my parents were in finding Raijom and Max finally letting go of his secrets, though neither felt like achievable goals.
Strangely, I didn’t find myself regretting the last three years of my life spent travelling. Maybe I had never had a chance of finding my parents that way. Heck, maybe Max even knew that from the start. However, I realized that I had learned a lot from where I had been and met some great people including Til’ and Sal’. Besides, I still felt that I could trust Max. Somehow, I believed that he knew that the path we had taken had been our only choice. Somehow, I knew he was doing all he could to help me and was looking out for my own interests. I only wished I could understand why he didn’t know exactly where to look for Raijom from the beginning.
So much for the oceanside environment easing my mind.
We entered through the arched northern gate after our saddlebags were checked by light-armored watchmen on duty. Given that Byweather is on the coast of the Dyanac Ocean, a careful watch is given to those entering and exiting through the gates to watch for known criminals on the run or illegal goods being smuggled into or out of the city.
Byweather is composed of three major areas. The outer portion of the city, forming a semicircle around the center, is home to mostly businesses and some of the homes of the middle class. The center of the city is full of towering inns and the nobles’ manors. The portion of the city along the coast is home to the docks, warehouses, and some of the more poverty-stricken households—or shacks as they more usually are.
If it had been daytime, the masts of the fishing and trade boats would have been visible in the distance through the straight, stone roads of the city. However, if it had been day, we also could have seen how little care went into the city compared to a city like Geeron.
I knew from my last visit that trash could be found littered in the streets of the outer city with the businesses and houses in need of much maintenance. I won’t even go into the living conditions of those I had seen living at the docks.
This is the kind of environment that is created when the Lord of a city levies taxes to the point that the cleanliness and maintenance of property of the lower classes are pushed aside for necessities of living. You know, necessities like food and water.
The only truly upkept parts of the city are the port itself—the driving force of Byweather’s economy—and the central area. It is exactly the type of place that curs like Galius live.
The ocean air was not enough to keep me from feeling mildly contemptuous of the city. It disgusted me to think that Galius could possibly rule Byweather one day. Someone needed to step in to clean the place up. Sadly, from what I had seen at the time, the political power of the city was held amongst the nobles who Lord Vauhs kept rich at the expense of the well-being of the city and the lower classes. That made it impossible for anyone who cared enough to incite a change to be elected to any sort of position that would give them the ability to make those changes.
Ne
edless to say, ocean view or not, I would never settle in a city like Byweather. Ever. Fortunately, I was positive by this point that my parents, if they truly were the rulers of a kingdom, were not going to be found in Estus where Urdale’s king sat. As I took in the ill repaired city around me, I envisioned that my parents would never be so insensible to such a plight of the lower classes of any city under their rule. I envisioned that because it was too hard to make myself believe that I could come from the type of royalty who would feel otherwise.
We arrived at the Sea Breeze, an inn in the outer city, as the moon was cresting its nighttime climb. The slate-roofed, three-story inn was wood and plaster like most of the structures in the outer city. And just like most of the structures of the outer city, it was in need of many repairs from the chipped front door that only opened with real effort and did not fit back into its frame just right to having more than one visible window boarded up. Even being able to afford rooms in a nicer inn in the central portion of the city, I refused to give my patronage to the same people who made life so hard for those in the outer city.
Around the back of the inn was a small, rickety stable that was locked up and unmanned. Max, Til’, and Sal’ stayed with the horses while I went inside to work out stabling the horses and pay for rooms.
I was enveloped by warmth as I stepped through the door, fighting to close it into the frame behind me. The common room was small, but packed, a sooty stone fireplace burning brightly against the far wall. Half a dozen tables in the common room were completely full of patrons drinking and smoking. A long bar lined the front of the room, its stools also occupied. More patrons, mostly men without a place to sit, lined the walls, talking, laughing, or singing. At the back of the room upon a raised dais, a stout, bearded man played a lute and sang typical tavern-type songs with half the room joining him drunkenly in off-key singing.
For a moment, I thought we had stopped at a tavern by mistake. However, the innkeeper, a middle-aged, ashen-faced man in a dirty white shirt and a black apron that was practically hanging off of him, approached me and asked if I was looking for rooms for the night. He introduced himself as Hiro Blackmore.
“Doesn’t look like you have much room,” I observed.
Hiro let out a forced chuckle. “We have plenty of rooms, sir. The Loose Squirrel, the tavern next door, closed down yesterday and now their business has been coming here. Poor Heb just didn’t have the money to keep it going. Can’t say I have anything against the business it brought here, though. If I didn’t start emptying my wine cellar, we may have been the next ones out of business. Sorry, I ramble. How many rooms?”
“Three, please. Also, I have two horses that need to be stabled,” I answered while considering the ridiculousness of a tavern going out of business in a city of Byweather’s size. I also wondered if Max would appreciate a joke referring to the Loose Squirrel.
With an exchange of a couple silver and copper coins, Hiro hunted down his son, Bryce, to stable, feed, and groom Telis and Windmane. After taking our things up to our room, Sal’ again announced she was going out into the city to search for a wizard’s guild. After all of Sal’s talk about how other wizards she’d known had looked down on her for her lack of skill due to her being the daughter of the Grand Wizard, I felt even more rejected that she’d rather be among those other wizards than with me. As it was, I found myself talking with Max and Til’ in my room yet again. Of course, the conversation continually drifted towards my plan for the next day.
“So,” Til’ began innocently enough, “after you take Galius the egg, if you want, I can—”
“Stop right there,” I interrupted harshly. “There will be no talk of any of this tonight, okay?” I gave both Max and Til’ a pointed glare to convey my seriousness. I untied my cloak and threw it across the bed as I rotated my shoulders to stretch them. It felt good to have the constricting thing off. “I’m going to get a drink. If you want, you can join me, Til’, as long as you drop your talk about tomorrow.”
“No, Kolari don’t drink,” Til’ explained. “Plus, from my experience, putting myself in a room full of humans turns me into a novelty. You saw everyone’s eyes turn to me when I came in.”
He had a point. When we had entered the Sea Breeze as well as the Weary Traveler’s Inn, all eyes went from drinks to the little guy. I don’t think I’d want to be looked at that way either. “Max?”
“I will stick with the Kolarin,” Max answered, stretching out his legs before curling up onto the bed. “I would be quite the novelty myself. Watch yourself down there. You are not fully recovered and probably should not be drinking anything unless it is water or tea.”
I let out an exasperated breath. I felt recovered enough for a strong drink or two. I needed to clear my head. I probably wouldn’t get any sleep otherwise. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”
As I turned to the door, Max called, “Korin.” I turned back to the bed. “Do not forget to get me some food. Salmon if they have it. And something with gravy. Oh, and sweet rolls. Cinnamon ones if they have them.”
I let out a small laugh. “Sure thing.” I opened the door, amused that a squirrel could have such a big dinner request. Max still expressed his disgust that he couldn’t put down as much as he used to whenever we stopped for meals.
Before I had even finished shutting the door behind me, I heard Til’ burst into conversation with a resigned sigh coming from Max. My smile widened, but eased away as I made my way to the stairs. I couldn’t help but let the fact I had to take the egg to Galius bring me down. If my plan worked, he wouldn’t have it long, but if it failed, he would unfairly prosper just like the other nobles of Byweather and I would have to tell a dragon that I lost its child. I was making a lot of assumptions in what I expected to happen the next day and that worried me. A couple drinks would help with that.
Our rooms were on the second floor. Hiro, the innkeeper, had been truthful in that they had plenty of rooms available. The third floor was completely empty. I took the flight of creaky, railless stairs down to the common room. The smell of grilling fish was barely discernable over the fireplace and pipe smoke. I flagged down Hiro to see about having some food sent up to my room for Til’. He seemed confused that I was ordering two plates but would be staying downstairs. However, I wasn’t about to tell him that there was a magic talking wizard squirrel in my room that would be taking the second plate. I ordered an ale for myself, requesting the stoutest he had available. I paid him for the food and drink, throwing in a few extra coppers. Having a business in a city full of greedy nobles, he needed it more than I did.
“Thank you kindly, sir,” Hiro said as he dropped the coins into a pocket on the front of his dirty apron. “Go have a seat and we’ll bring you our stoutest ale, a local brew. The other seat at your friend’s table is still open.” Hiro pointed to the back corner of the room before running his hand through his bushy, unkempt salt-and-pepper hair. Sal’ was sitting at a small table with two chairs. Her head was hanging over a carved wooden cup that she had both of her pale hands around. Her hair hung down, obscuring her face.
“She’s had at least three shots of whiskey, two ales, and is working on her third ale now,” Hiro told me, dry washing his hands nervously. “Not that it’s any of my business, but is your friend okay? She told a couple of the men that have approached her that she’s a wizard and threatened to…uh…castrate them with her magic. She’s not going out of her way to cause any trouble, but…”
I held up a hand apologetically. I completely understood. Hiro was scared she’d scare off his business or maybe start a fight with her talk of being a wizard and threatening drunken men. They probably didn’t think Sal’ was a wizard with her plain clothes, but I needed to intervene before she ended up proving them wrong. “I’ll take care of her,” I told Hiro, slipping him a few more coppers for his trouble.
“Thank you, sir. Your drink will be right out and we’ll get that food up to your little friend.” With that, Hiro shuffled off through a se
t of saloon doors, most of the slats cracked or broken, into where the kitchen must have been.
I made my way to the small, bare-wood table and sat down on the wobbly chair across from Sal’. Sal’ didn’t even lift her head. I sat there for a moment, staring down at the half-empty cup in her hands. I didn’t know what to say to her, but since Max’s advice hadn’t turned out so well, I knew I had to say something. I couldn’t tell her, but my success the next day may have hinged on her. Plus, I really missed talking to her. I missed looking into her eyes.
Okay, I’m getting off topic again. I figured I could start with a little innocent conversation. “Hey, there.” I had to raise my voice quite a bit to talk over the noise at the other tables. “Thought you were out looking for a wizard guild.”
Sal’s head rose to reveal bloodshot eyes sharply narrowed at me as if she were literally trying to stab me with them. The way her expression made me feel, they may as well have been.
“Did you really think I would go to a guild? Really?” Her eyes were full of angry disbelief. Her voice was slurred and cold as winter ice. With a sniff, she turned up her cup to take another drink. I’d seen her down a half bottle of wine and be nothing more than giddy, but it looked like she could be as emotionally unstable drunk as when sober. “My father would hear of it and send for me. I just needed to get away.”
I looked at her questioningly. “From…”
“You,” she finished bluntly, lifting her drink and finishing it in a couple swallows before dropping it to the table and going back to staring down at the now wobbling cup.
Just then, a plump serving woman with graying hair in a puffy-sleeved shirt covered with a dirty brown apron arrived at the table, plopping a wooden cup of frothy ale in front of me. Her wide-spaced eyes darted to Sal’ uneasily. She must have known what Sal’ had been claiming. Though wizards aren’t usually feared in general, drunken wizards threatening castration understandably put people on edge.