‘Oh heavens.’ Althea regarded Kairos with a look of genuine and profound sympathy. ‘I’m sorry.’
They didn’t walk far before the populace took note of Galen. Kairos was used to his father’s popularity back in Logres, but that was miniscule in comparison. Kairos and Althea walked silently behind Galen as people called out to him.
‘Greetings, milord!’
‘Nice day, isn’t it, Lord Avenal?’
‘How fares the fight against Malus, milord?’
Kairos glanced at Galen uneasily. The knight smiled and greeted each person cheerfully in return. Althea, on the other hand, stared shyly at the cobblestone pavement beneath her, her skin burnished with a sheen of red.
‘Is it always this way?’ Kairos asked her in a low voice. ‘Walking with your father, that is.’
‘Yes,’ Althea answered sadly. ‘It’s difficult to spend time with him. Everyone always wants his attention. Speaking of which, here comes Lord Cyr.’ With an exasperated look, she added in a sarcastic tone, ‘Duty calls.’
As the trio neared the Ivory Bridge, which led directly to the marketplace, a middle-aged man geared in a full suit of armour approached them. To Kairos’s surprise, he was a big man, almost big enough to pass as an Einar. His armour barely seemed able to encase him. He had chestnut hair, tinged with grey and close-cropped. As he came near the trio, his attention fixed on Galen with a sense of purpose.
‘Lord Avenal,’ he said. ‘You’re just in time.’
As if anticipating what was to come, Galen Avenal held up his hands. ‘I’m off-duty, Lord Cyr. Can’t this wait?’
‘But it’s one of the dark elves, sir,’ Lord Cyr said. ‘Due to the recent string of events with Malus, some of the townsfolk are threatening to run him out of the city.’
‘Who?’
‘Sanctus.’
‘But he’s lived here for ages!’ Galen said, his voice taking on an edge of anger. ‘He’s the best cobbler in the city.’
‘I know, milord,’ Lord Cyr said gravely. ‘But there’s a mob outside his shop and there are only a few of us. Perhaps you can reason with them. The citizens look up to you.’
Galen turned and gave Althea an apologetic look. ‘Duty calls,’ he said. ‘Can we meet at the fountain later?’
‘Go ahead, father,’ she answered, looking glum.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, pulling out a coin purse and handing Althea a few coins. ‘Buy something for you and Kairos for now. I’ll make it up to you later.’ Galen hugged his morose daughter and followed after Lord Cyr without looking back.
After watching the two knights run off down the street, Althea gave a long sigh. ‘He always says that and rarely does.’
Kairos watched Althea stare after her father, her eyes filled with tears. Her sad beauty made his heart ache. The good news in all of this was that they were alone now, away from Stella’s cloying protectiveness. They could talk freely. But what would they talk about? He knew nothing of the girl, and she probably found him uninteresting, especially compared to the other boys he had seen in town, who were dressed much better than he was, and could use magic. He tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t. He wasn’t used to talking to girls.
Suddenly, Althea’s face brightened, and a large smile spread across her lips. ‘Let's go,’ she said. ‘What would you like to see? The city square? The marketplace? Or maybe Lake Turquoise?’
‘Everything.’
‘Let's see.’ Althea frowned in thought. ‘We probably have most of the day. The lake is a bit cold in the morning, but the vendors should be up and ready at the marketplace. We should go there first before the crowds. Then we can climb the hill to the Nobles District after that. There's a splendid view of the lake at the top. Shall we?’
‘Let's go,’ Kairos said.
More people filled the streets as the morning progressed and Kairos and Althea waded through throngs of people. Carts rumbled past on the noisy street, most being pulled by oxen as their dwarven masters lounged lazily in the coach seat.
Unlike the laid-back life in Logres, everyone in Vadost seemed to be in a hurry. Kairos was bewildered by the bustle and commotion. He gawked at everything, clumsily bumping into a cart before stumbling ankle-deep in what appeared to be a brown, muddy puddle. Althea tried to take his hand, but he snatched away. His hands were sweating profusely and he didn’t want her to touch them.
‘I’m okay! It's just mud.’
‘Um, that's not mud,’ said Althea, looking a little hurt by Kairos’s action. ‘Have you noticed that it hasn’t rained in a while? We'll have to wash those boots later. Ah, this is the marketplace. If you're looking for something, this is the place to be!’
Vendor stalls lined each side of the street for several blocks. Kairos had never seen so many different things for sale in one place. Here he could find anything that he had ever imagined and much more. The vendors were a variety themselves. A lone gnome plied his technological trinkets. Dwarves sold tools, weapons, armour, casks of mountain ale, and offered repairs on every item, especially the casks for customers who imbibed too much. Elves sold fashionable clothing, and Althea hurried to investigate one elf in particular. ‘He’s new here in the marketplace,’ she said, rushing towards the booth. ‘He arrived just the other day, and he has the best clothing in all of Vadost!’
An elf with long golden hair and wearing a multi-coloured assortment of clothing bowed deeply to her. ‘Oh, if it isn't the queen of beauty herself. How may I, Stephon, serve milady today?’
‘I see you have some nice garments here,’ she said excitedly, quickly losing herself in the racks of clothing.
‘Yes, milady,’ Stephon bowed, watching Althea peruse his wares. ‘Ah, good choice. That particular gown is made with the highest quality elven silk… And that kirtle you’re holding was imported directly from Kinclaven, my home city.’
Kairos stopped at the threshold of the booth, his muscles tense. He stared at Stephon’s pointed ears, his large, round eyes, and skin that was pale and smooth with an ageless sheen. Watching the elf instantly brought back the gruesome image of the elves in the barn, Farina’s corpse staring at him, blood gushing from the stab wounds in her torso, drenching her dress. Once again, her golden hair was missing, and great strips of skin had been flayed from her scalp; her mouth was open, dried blood caking her face, as though she were voicing the endless horror she had to endure… He felt an instinctive urge to rush in and shield Althea from this man.
Aware of Kairos's gaze, Stephon turned and looked. ‘Why don't you paint a picture? It will last longer.’
‘You’re an elf,’ said Kairos, glaring at Stephon.
‘So I am.’ Stephon rolled his eyes and heaved an exaggerated sigh for extra measure. ‘I mean, what gave it away? It must be my good looks. Jealous, are we?’ The elf turned to Althea. ‘Piffle. Is this your friend? He's quite the rude one.’
Embarrassed, Kairos looked away. He tried to banish the anger that was threatening to surface. He knew it was wrong to blame this particular elf for Farina’s death. But for some reason, Kairos still detested his presence.
‘Please don't mind him, sir,’ Althea said, mortified. ‘He's not from around here, but he's staying with us for now.’
‘No harm, my fine lass,’ the elf said. ‘I’m used to the occasional peasant who was raised by donkeys, though this one smells a bit worse.’ Stephon leant forward and squinted at the boy in curiosity. ‘Now that you mention it, though, he doesn't look like your typical human from around here. Especially with that dark hair. And he's not dark nor refined enough to be from Numidia. Interesting. So where are you from?’
‘Piss off.’
‘My, a feisty one! Definitely not refined. Milady, surrounding yourself with filthy little urchins like this–’ Stephon sniffed at Kairos and, grabbing a handkerchief from a purple pouch hanging from his belt, put it to his nose. ‘You have your work cut out for you, dear. Ah, never mind that. I see you have chosen a nice red bonnet. I have some
matching boots that would look fabulous on you. The highest quality elven leather from the D’Kari, dyed and cured by the best and yours truly, Stephon the Great. See, I even added runes of protection – in a fashionable pattern, mind you – to prevent the usual wear and tear. These should last you for years.’ The elf presented the red boots to Althea and bowed with a flourish.
‘Splendid!’ Althea held the boots up to admire them. ‘How much?’
‘For you, my dear, that will be a silver crown, and the rest on the house. Or perhaps I shall say, ‘on the booth.’ A gratuity for being a distinguished customer with the finest taste.’
‘Really? No, I cannot take these for almost nothing. You worked so hard on them.’
‘Ahem. Of course I did. But if you insist,’ Stephon was appraising Kairos from head to toes with a look of disdain, ‘then get that boy out of those rags and into something more, hmm, shall I say, more palatable?’
‘What a lovely idea, Steph. Father did tell me to buy him some clothes.’
The elf suggested several tunics of exuberant hues and designs. Althea nodded with enthusiasm, but Kairos flushed with fury at the thought of wearing them. The tunics looked as though a peacock had exploded on them, so he refused one after another. Finally, the only tunic he settled for was a brown leather one with brown leather breeches.
‘But these haven't even been dyed, nor have I graced them with my elegant designs,’ Stephon said, aghast. ‘For the sake of fashion, I cannot allow you to stroll the streets in such mediocrity.’
‘These will do,’ Kairos said, curtly. ‘I don't like those other ones. Looking at them makes me want to vomit. Too many colours.’
‘Ugh, no fashion or manners in this one,’ Stephon sighed, wrinkling his nose and turning to Althea. ‘My dear, you really should associate with someone of better class. He will only bring you down... That will be three silver crowns. I'll even throw in a cloth undershirt for free if that helps get rid of the stench. He can change in this stall. Be sure to close the curtain – I don’t need you scaring away my customers. If you want to use the mirror, it's next to the stall. Don’t stare at it too long, though, because I don’t want your grime and filth to rub off on it!’
Kairos ignored the insults and entered the stall, slipping into his new clothes, which felt stiff and smelled like fresh leather; he took an instant fancy to them, nonetheless. Such attire would be worth a fortune in Logres. Upon exiting the stall, Althea showed her approval by clapping. Stephon merely grumbled, ‘Well, it's an improvement, but you merely went from a filthy peasant to an average peasant.’
‘Thank you, Stephon,’ Althea said. ‘Here, take three crowns. No, no! You must. Father would be quite displeased if I took something for a discount.’
Stephon gave another bow. ‘Send your father my regards, milady.’
The pair left, Althea bidding farewell, continuing past the other clothing vendors. Kairos felt stiff, walking in his new outfit, but the elf was right. This was an improvement, though he was loath to admit it. He hated that elf. He hated all elves… And dwarves, too, he added as an afterthought, thinking of Stella. But he hated that elf more, he decidedly angrily when replaying the recent scene of insults in his mind. The only reason why he hadn’t lashed out was because Althea liked him.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked. ‘You have an angry look on your face.’
‘No,’ Kairos said, then in an attempt to change the subject, he pointed to a building bearing a colourful sign of a girl with exaggerated curves holding a pint of ale. ‘What’s that place?
‘Ah, that's a tavern called the Pinch and Tickle. Father says I'm never ever allowed to go there. We're going over here. There’s something you have to try.’
The next block had smoke full of all sorts of tantalising smells. They made Kairos's stomach growl even though he had had breakfast a short while ago. One peculiar aroma lured him to a stall occupied by a heavyset lady. Many spherical-shaped delicacies sat in arrangement on sheets of wax paper, and they smelled better than any delicacy back in Logres. ‘What are these?’ Kairos asked.
‘Chocolate truffles,’ Althea replied, her eyes aglow.
‘What are they?’
‘Oh, you would love them!’
The large lady gestured and announced in a throaty voice, ‘She's right! These truffles consist of fresh cream and chocolate, rolled in powdered dwarven chestnuts.’
Althea nudged Kairos. ‘Would you like to try one?’
He sniffed the air. ‘I'd like to try two or three.’
‘Okay, then four truffles, please!’ Althea said.
‘That'll be a half crown.’ The lady took a small silver coin from Althea and wrapped the truffles in a sheet of wax paper, handing them over to an eager Kairos.
The pair trod along, eating. Kairos consumed his three truffles in an instant, remarking that they were the most delicious things he had ever tasted in his life. Chocolate covered his fingertips, which he licked, then wiped on his new leather tunic, consequently receiving a playful rebuke from Althea.
For the first time since he had arrived from across the sea, a genuine smile threatened to form on his lips.
* * *
The city square, or Lazio Fountain as it was known, was the heart of the city. The fountain resided at the junction of four main roads of the city – including Merchants Lane – thus, serving as the place for families, friends, and merchants to rendezvous and relax. The youth of Vadost used the fountain as a bastion of people-watching, which more than often resulted in flirting for the more daring.
The fountain itself was famous throughout the land for its remarkable beauty. Serving as both the backdrop and water source of the fountain, a statue of a dragon, standing at thirty metres high and portraying the avatar of the god, Zemus, spread its enormous wings and sprayed a large gout of water onto the boulders, the waters cascading down into the pool below. It was the largest fountain in Ordonia (though the dwarves claimed to have a much larger one in their homeland of Dvergar, but no human had ever measured it to confirm the exact size). On any given sunny day, many artists could be found, painting the majestic dragon statue and its fountain. On this particular day, many couples were having a picnic in the large shade of its wingspan.
The other pastime was casting a prayer spell. It was tradition with the Temple of Zemus to cast a spell transferring a small portion of the user’s mana to the dragon when praying to the god. Now most Ordonians and tourists continued the gesture for novelty or good luck, though many superstitious merchants, mercenaries and knights would make sure to donate a portion of their mana along with a prayer on the eve of a risky expedition. In truth, this transfer of mana was what maintains the fountain’s flow.
Spending time at Lazio Fountain was, next to flirting, shopping, and studying, Althea’s favourite pastime.
Althea was well-educated – mandatory for a daughter of a renowned knight. Every morning was spent studying her lessons with Lady Beatrice, learning advanced theories and philosophies of mathematics, spellcasting, and history. Nothing pleased her father more than to look at her huddled over a book. And Lady Beatrice proved an excellent tutor. She ensured that Althea knew her glyphs and their constructs, and the various cultures of the world and their history. Their studies often stretched into the early afternoon, when Lady Beatrice suddenly noticing the time, would hurry out the door and towards her next appointment.
Occasionally Stella took over morning lessons, instructing Althea on the management of the household, raising of children, and the arts and crafts. Stella was an expert lute player, a skill she passed onto Althea. These lessons brought Althea a great deal of pleasure, along with filling the void of not having her late mother around. She and the dwarf spent a great deal of time tending the gardens and maintaining the upkeep of the manor. But, no matter how much she delighted in excelling at her studies or being with Stella, she looked forward each day to the end of the lessons when she would venture to Lazio Fountain, often with her friend, Cassie, t
o partake in her latest craze: boys.
Althea always enjoyed the serene atmosphere of the fountain, the sound of the water trickling down the rocks. Today she found a new appreciation of the fountain, as she shared its wonders and history with Kairos, who listened in silence, but regarded her with those intense eyes. They had visited many shops, seen several gardens, and gone to Lake Turquoise. As she watched Kairos take in the sights of Vadost through her words and eyes, she realised for the first time just how beautiful her city really was.
‘I hope you enjoyed the tour of the city,’ Althea said as they sat at one of the many benches facing the fountain.
Kairos nodded. ‘I have. Thank you.’
‘Perhaps after this, you can show some of your spells,’ Althea mentioned. ‘I’d love to see what type of magic you specialise in.’
To Althea’s astonishment, Kairos’s face darkened, his black brows coming together in a thick, hard line above his eyes. ‘There’s not much to see,’ he said in a measured voice. ‘I’m afraid I don’t specialise in anything–’
‘Of course you do,’ cried Althea eagerly. ‘Everyone specialises in something, except dwarves and gnomes, that is, because they don’t have mana.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Surely you jest,’ Althea said with a smile, though Kairos regarded her with a piercing scrutiny that increased her discomfort. Seeming to feel the need for explanation, she added, ‘Well, uh, you see… The country of Numidia focuses more on the water element. Light elves are the only race with schools of magic on the healing element. The farmers at Ordonia practice much of the earth element. Your homeland must focus on some type of element?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Kairos in low tones, his eyes now wistful and shadowed. ‘I’d rather not talk about my homeland right now.’
‘Oh heavens,’ Althea gasped, for the second time that day, recalling, again, her father’s words. ‘I’m sorry. Father mentioned your recent ordeal. How selfish of me.’ She placed a gentle hand on Kairos’s arm. ‘If you ever feel ready to tell me later, then you can. Otherwise, I won’t ask again.’
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