Yes, in-game when you're low on cash you go out and fight monsters, but is that honestly a practical way to go find spending money? Especially when traveling ALONE?


Chapter Three

Stony Indifference

He had no money left. Hardly enough to afford himself a half-hunk of bread, and that were he if he'd be able to persuade a baker to give it to him for a fraction of the normal price. A part of him bitterly reminded him that he could simply have socked the old man one, or brought half of his house down. Felix could've caused a tremor of some sort to scare him into doing what he wanted, but he'd seen that method of persuasion before, and had no taste for it. Besides, was it even worth it to get so angry over coin he hadn't needed for anything else?

But by Jupiter's Grace, his travel funds were bleeding. He had no idea how he was going to afford a ride home, and would probably have to rely on someone from the Shaman nation or Contigo before he'd be able to reach Angara again.

It was too late in the afternoon for them to depart that same day, but he was too tight with his money to simply hand over the entire payment in one go. Half of his funds were left with the corded old man, and Felix ended up combing the massive beach uselessly for an hour or so before finally returning to the walled colony.

He'd been offered a job the day before, or at least the offer had been strongly inferred, so he found himself headed for the smithy.

"I can't afford another night at the inn." He explained, not bothered by his situation, but not wanting to sleep on the broken ground in and around the city. He had no taste for having water dumped on him from windows, and forest floors were softer and more peaceful than broken shale and quarry stones.

Overall, the blacksmith laughed, he smiled; he cracked a joke or two, but otherwise put him to work like he asked to be. He had a basic knowledge of forges and blacksmithing, knowing certain details about when and how to strike the metal for certain tools, how to heat the materials properly etc, but nothing substantial. He was no Sunshine, and his knowledge of the forge had come from Prox where techniques were different anyways.

Pumping bellows, clearing away coal dust, shoveling fuel into the fires, he was given mostly the hard, grunt work to do. It was nothing more than what he'd expected though, this was only for a day, just enough to pay for another meal and a bed.

Felix'd taken most of his traveling gear off before starting to work, and by the time the sun was down he had stripped off even his shirtsleeves to shovel the black char into the screaming mouth of the forge. There were several other men in the shop as well, but he hadn't realized before since it was such a large facility. He and the trunk-like smith from before were the only ones working together at their one oven.

There was no bell or whistle to signal the end of the work day. Felix wasn't even aware of what exactly he was heating the forge to make, just developed his own rhythm with the brooms, shovels and pumps. He worked steadily even after his arms started going numb, and his long hair had to be tied back several times as he went back and forth from one task to another. There was no time for monotony or repetitive thoughts in between; he couldn't afford that sort of distraction when he unlatched the oven's side panel to see red coals glaring out at him like bloodied tiles. And that especially was a metaphor he wouldn't allow himself to ponder.

"You do good work, young man." When Owen came up to him, Felix's ears were ringing with the echo of hammer falls. He pushed away the last streaks of black dust from the stone floor before resting himself on the handle of the wide broom, and then finally looked at the other man. He was numb from head to foot, but it was the sort of exhaustion which was almost refreshing to him, like traveling through the mountains had been. When had he last had to use this much physical energy for anything? His mind was sharp enough from all those damned maps and numbers, but his arms felt limp now as he stood there, enough so that the quarry stone didn't seem so bad anymore.

"Aye, better work than that lay-about I finally told off a few days ago." Making a gruff sound in his throat, Felix didn't have the energy to grimace at Owen as the older man spat onto the floor at the mention of his former employee. He clapped one heavy hand on his shoulder like he had the day before, and looked him over seriously.

"Now, you said just one day's work; and that day's over now. I'll pay the tab at Leslie's for yah, but won't you at least consider the job more seriously now that you've tried the work?" The refusal and thanks were already on his lips at the question, but Owen held up his hand for a moment, and he kept his peace. "If you're headed somewhere then you're headed there no ifs or buts about. But if you're comin' back afterwards, give it some thought."

"I think…" He had it all planned and prepared, knew exactly how to express thanks and put any thoughts of his taking the job to firm and undisputed rest… but… "I think I will consider it. I'll probably be wintering over across the Ocean, but when I come back… we'll see." He didn't understand where the response came from, but Owen's face broke into a large and lively grin, and he clapped him heavily on the shoulder a few more times.

"Atta boy!" He beamed, "Now, I'm not sayin' I'd be keepin' yah as just a grunge man either. Train you right and well I would, you don't flinch back from the fire, and you've got a solid hand with the stones- you listen! Best of all that can you hear me when I tell you t' get down or away! Yer a natural, and bein' good with a blade gives you just that much more potential!"

They were walking and talking again, Felix slowly gathering up his things, wiping his face off on the sleeve of his abandoned shirt and grimacing at the slick layer of black that came off him. Damn it, he'd hoped to stay clean for at least a little bit longer than that…

"How d'you come by that?" He asked, picking up on something Owen said as he slung his pack over his shoulder, surprised to find it completely dark outside the smithy, the moon rising. That wasn't good; he was supposed to be up just before dawn and get to the Cape… "That I'm good with a sword, just because I have one?"

What was the point in asking something like that? Of course he was good with a blade; it wasn't something they needed to discuss. He'd had three years of formal training, several months of watching the real thing mostly from the sidelines, and then nearly a year on his own fighting and blooding himself in real combat. He didn't need to validate his skills to anyone.

"Come now, young man." Owen said lightly, coming up to him after splashing himself with a handful of water Felix'd seen him sticking metal rods into to cool off earlier. He was surprised though when the other man reached out and jabbed him in the chest intrusively.

"Excuse m-?" What was the matter with the people in this town? They acted so… strangely!

"A man doesn't get so many holes in his hide without having some means of protection. You've fought a lot, got enough holes in you to prove it, and yer still alive and fit, and you've got the nerves to stand strong. You ain't a coward, and you ain't no green-horn either." Felix just stared at him, having no idea how to respond to something like that.

He didn't tend to think about scars very often. In fact he didn't think about them at all. Looking down however, they were difficult to ignore. The sheen of sweat and the contrast of the coal dust along his arms and chest made the streaks and slashes shine across his skin. His hands were nearly white with them, so many times having had a beast sink its teeth into his fingers trying to force his sword from him, so often followed by hind legs rearing up to claw into his torso. Lethal slashes evaded with only a hair's breadth, clouds of burning gas, poisonous spores, scalding water or venoms. He hardly ever saw them though, it'd become like a joke to them all by the time they'd settled into their lifestyle of traveling and fighting. They'd just examine wounds and instantly expect a scar once it healed. They'd done it so many times after so many battles that the entire scenario had lost meaning by the end.

He pulled the shirt over his head as they walked, suddenly very conscious of the marks across his skin.

"I'll consider it…" He didn't feel quite right after that, the rest of the evening passing relatively slowly. Owen vouched for him at the inn, the matron just chuckling sweetly as she took the handful of coin and ushered the maid from that morning to get the water running again for him to bathe.

In all, aside from the intrusive examination, the night went on exactly as it had the day before. Only this time, he made it clear that he needed an early wake up call for the next morning…


And on that morning, it was raining. He didn't have time to do anything more than butter up a piece of bread and shove it into his mouth as he left the inn, his tab clear as the establishment was still cheap enough for him to afford it on a single day's wages.

Normally he wasn't one to mind the rain, but he couldn't help it as he tried to run whenever the beach sand would remain solid enough under his feet. He felt like he were being drawn down into clam holes and tide pools at random, rain sheeting down as the waves came across Loho's long beach in foaming torrents. Ill weather to start a voyage in, but even if the departure was going to be pushed back as a result, he wasn't very well going to just sit in town and guess at the older man's plans. If the ferryman didn't want to sail today, that was fine with Felix, the wind and the rain were giving him an uneasy chill, but he wasn't going to let the old coot set sail with his money!

"Hey!" The way the house connected to the small lagoon, he could see the wharf and boat from the ridge as he came running up the cape. The waters even in the protected shallow were heaving to and fro in a way which made him pre-emptively queasy, but what was most important was how the old man was visible on the deck, and he looked like he was getting ready to shove off.

"Hey! Wait!" Venus damn him! The last of the ropes were being tossed onto the dock, and there was no time to go breaking through the old man's house to get to the dock the good and proper way. He grit his teeth against the sharp feel of black granite and open molluscs which threatened to tear through the palms of his gloves as he slipped and slid his way down the rocks. He was sopping wet and his scarf was whipping around his head as his feet hit the boards of the dock.

"Jump, boy! Run and jump!" From the boat, the old man seemed to be having a grand old time, waving his arms widely through the rain to urge him on. Felix just bit his tongue against a sharp reply as he charged down the planks. The boat was moving back and forth with every wave, and was quickly beginning to inch its way around towards the open ocean. Damn it all, he couldn't jump that distance! The dock was too short!

There were crates and boxes tied down along the dock as he ran, and whether he did it on purpose or not, he wasn't sure. Well, he was mostly sure, but wouldn't admit to it. The world flashed a cold green colour past his eyes before a rush of heat from his chest burst out, banishing the cold from the rain as he swiped his right hand across in front of him. Several lines snapped and one crate moved past him with startling detail, tumbling end over end in his path as though the wind had caught it and kept it rolling. He didn't have the time to think it through or weigh the odds of success, the consequence of failure, or anything else of that nature. As the crate struck the water, he gave one jump and used it like a stepping stone, nearly sending himself face-first into the surf.

Had not the water been rushing towards the dock, he would've simply flipped over like a buffoon. Instead, it somehow worked, and he was clinging to the side of the boat: soaking wet, shivering in the cold, weighed down with all his gear with his sword tangling itself between his legs. To make it all even better, he was spitting flames as the ferryman jolted over to him and grabbed his arms.

"You son of a-!"

"Y'see that wind, boy!? Snapped the wires it did!" They were both cut off as the boat suddenly keeled over on its side, a flash of panic hitting Felix as his legs were being sucked down by the force of the water. It made his arms scream as the ship righted itself, the water reluctant to leg go as he nearly lost one boot before finally being hauled on deck by both the old man and the next wave.

"Where's my money, boy!?"

"Shouldn't you be steering us!?" In a way he had to be thankful for the storm, otherwise, it was all too likely that he'd be making a number of very brutal and black comments about leaving a paying passenger behind. As it stood now, he had to focus more on keeping himself from pitching back over the side of the boat as it continued to keel over from side to side. Gulliver wasn't listening however, one hand outstretched for the promised coin. The miser made his jaw ache trying to keep himself civil, rocking back and forth like a toy boat in a tub was not doing well for him.

"When we part ways in Hesperia, then I'll pay you the other half!" He had to say it three times, altering his choice of words severely before the old man finally scowled under his sopping hood to show he understood this new condition on their deal. If he didn't like it, then Felix would simply tell him that he shouldn't have had to leap to make it on board.


Spite was a terrible thing to underestimate. And an even worse weapon to fight with. No one ever wins in a battle of spite; after all, the whole point of one is to make your opponent absolutely miserable until they concede. But of course, no one ever gives up, why should they? They can just go and do something to spite the other person instead.

The old man had tried to set sail without him, and in retaliation Felix was now withholding the other half of the promised fare. The cycle had begun, but he hadn't realized that first windy and rainy morning just how badly everything was going go from there.

He was used to physically demanding work, and even though he'd been growing a bit 'soft' in Vale, it hadn't taken him long thus far to readjust himself to working hard with his body again. He was used to working for a bed or a meal, he'd done that in Loho for a day and everything had worked out well.

But he was also accustomed to the idea of being able to simply pay one's way through all the hard work they'd otherwise have to go through. That wasn't always the moral way of going through life, but when it came to a life he simply disliked, such as sailing around, he felt it was worth the bit of extra coin to spare himself. Most people, business men or otherwise, also understood this trade of gold for a more relaxing ride.

The Captain didn't.

He didn't call him Gulliver while on board the small fishing vessel, nick-named ' Stony Mountain'- a rather inappropriate name as far as Felix was concerned. Instead, he called him Captain, because if he didn't the old man simply wouldn't answer him. At all.

He hadn't expected to completely get out of doing any sort of work on ship. Maybe mop a deck or two, coil some ropes, do make work since he had a fairly good idea how a ship in general should run. Granted, the sail-powered beast of a boat wasn't nearly as easy to power or pilot as the Lemurian Galley of his earlier travels, there was a lot more work involved in general. The simple fact that they relied purely on the wind to push them through the water added stress and strain to the journey from the get go.

He'd expected to do a bit of work on deck over the course of their voyage, which took several days simply to cross the waterway between Western Angara and Eastern Hesperia. They had to accommodate for the weather as well while they crawled south along the shoreline looking for a river delta deep enough to sail into.

But he didn't expect every task he carried out to be mandated rigorously. Didn't expect to be shouted at for not knowing how to run up the lines of the mast. He didn't know why he was set to gutting fish for hours when the Captain insisted on casting his nets out behind them as they sailed. He hadn't expected to be treated like someone special or important, but had to admit he was a little put off by how things went. Somehow, between the two of them he was the only one sleeping out on the wet deck each night, he'd found his pack having been rifled through at one point, and he never seemed to get more than half a ladle-full of runny, poorly-made stew each night at dinner.

All in all, it was a near thing when exactly fifteen days since leaving Loho, Felix found it very difficult not to cram the fistful of coins down the old man's corded throat.

The ship perhaps could've taken him farther than it did, but that would've meant spending far more time than he was willing to take being badgered and talked down to on board. He'd been on the road now for an entire month, a third of the season gone, and he still hadn't reached his destination.

But once the Stony Mountain turned away from him and vanished down the river's bend, he suddenly didn't mind anymore. So what if it was taking this long to get there? The rush was to reach the village and offer his aid, not to marathon from one edge of the world back to the other before the snows started.

Traveling north through the continent wasn't much of a change from Angara. Large expanses of wetlands, low forested areas breaking into high, rugged plateaus. It was easier to find his way as well, since he'd been this way before in his travels, he knew to follow the rivers from the large inland sea- well, it was fresh water, so it was more of a giant lake- north towards the mountainous heartland.

He was able to move quickly again, the voyage had ended for him at the northern shores of the lake, and he knew which river to follow. In only three days, he began to recognize the first real signs of the Shaman Nation. Occasionally across the river he'd spot a flash of white or red between the trees, not people but their marks, feathered poles standing to show where there was natural shelter from the elements, or good fishing depending on the season.

He'd forgotten just where along the river he would have to break away and find the caverns leading through the mountains to the proper domain of the Hesperian people. He didn't even know how close he was until he woke up on the fifth day and saw nearly two dozen bronze-skinned men rowing down river past him. In two large canoes of hollowed tree-trunks, a few had waved to him as they'd passed by, calling out quickly in their slurred tongue too fast for him to pick up what they meant exactly. He could make a guess however; one storm didn't herald the coming of winter, and as hunters they still had a village to feed.

He found the pass by noon of that day, and let out a long sigh of relief. Carved into the red stone of the mountains was the rounded doorway which led deep into a series of winding passages. It was a defence to confuse and confound enemies, but the traps he knew to watch out for were all disabled. Every trip wire was cut and coiled off to the side neatly; stones set to topple over were reinforced so as to stay put. He didn't need a light to make his way through, simply resting a hand on any nearby walls or stones, and letting his feet find the way for him.

The Shaman village and its surrounding settlements were all hidden within a ring of red and blue mountains, flat grasslands spreading across the gap like a green bowl topped with the blue dome of the sky. The spring of the river he'd been following was directly north of him across the plains, and it cut across the grassland to keep them from growing dry and cracked like desert.

It was another two hours of hiking to cross the bowl, and it was easy for them to see him coming. The main village was built up into the hills, and was accessible mainly via a sort of wooden bridge which he assumed could be easily torn down in case of attack. They were a cautious people historically, the Shamans, but still honourable and not the sort to raise an alarm just to see one man coming up the valley towards them.

"Felix!" He looked up unexpectedly as he heard his name, approaching the wooden ramp, the first of a series which would take him up across a small ravine towards the village proper. A cattle skull was hanging from the rickety wooden arch over the village's entrance, despite the babbling off the water ways in the town. Climbing a few of the dry planks, he felt himself smile and waved one hand up over his head.

"Ivan! Is that you?" A shock of blond hair told him he was right even before the younger Adept came bounding up to stand under the archway. It'd been just over a year now since he'd last seen either of their old party's two Mind Readers, and it seemed most of the old jokes about their small friend were no longer valid.

Ivan was perhaps… seventeen this coming autumn, and had grown considerably over the past few seasons. His hair was lighter than Felix remembered it, and that was quite the feat. Dressed all in white, his cotton pants and shirt were dirtied and a bit worn, and he had sandals on his feet instead of hardy traveling shoes. He certainly looked different, held himself different, dressed up like a villager he certainly wasn't vain for the dirt across his shins and arms. And when he spoke his voice had noticeably begun to deepen.

"You finally made it!" As Felix continued to make his way up the ramps, Ivan would come down several steps until they met up. Reaching out to one another, they'd grasp each other's wrist and give a firm yank, slapping one another once on the back before breaking the brotherly hug. He could feel himself smiling again, and ignored the weight in his limbs as the two of them quickly fell in step with one another.

"You knew I was coming?"

"We knew someone was coming of course, Isaac and you wouldn't leave us high and dry without any help." He kept his smile in place even as it threatened to falter there. Isaac had been willing to simply let the issue lie and let them figure it out on their own. It seemed although he'd grown, Ivan still held onto a lot of old attachments. Perhaps that was for the better though, there wasn't really anything wrong with it.

"So I haven't missed any of the fun then?" He asked coyly, the pair of them walking in under the gate, and Felix glanced around curiously as he noted several people- mostly women or children- pausing in their daily activities to give them a quick look or two. Of course, Ivan looked nothing like the bronze-skinned men and women of the Shaman Clans. Broad faces and dark set eyes, most of them had their hair braided and wore clothing of several layers of wrapped cloth. Ivan was dressed like them in part, but clearly not one of the people.

He noticed something else about them as they walked however, hide-stitched tents standing next to squat clay buildings as they moved through the village almost aimlessly. They seemed haunted, the summer heat hanging in the air with an almost morbid feel to it.

"No, unfortunately you haven't. We've been on pins and needles waiting for someone to show up. I guess Isaac was too busy then?" Felix let the comment slide, or at least the subtle implication that Isaac's presence would've been preferred over his own. It wasn't worth it to get into a petty conflict over the issue, the other Adept had selected his Heroes a long time ago, and Felix had stood on the other side of that line for too long to really expect anything more than friendly companionship.

"Yes, he was still deep in negotiations in Kalay by the time your letter arrived, it would've looked bad if he'd picked up and come here- however urgent."

"You didn't take the Lapis?" There was a bit of suspicion in the fair Adept's voice as he spoke. Felix tried to keep down any tones of his own which would hint at what he thought of Ivan's judgement.

"Like I said, Isaac was attending to important business. No one person can power it themselves, and I really couldn't pry anyone from their work to arrive sooner." Running one hand back through his stiff and grungy hair, at least he'd reached his destination now. There was probably going to be a good deal of work to do. "Oh, I have a letter for you from Kraden."

"Really?" Ivan seemed surprised at that, and Felix twisted his shoulders a bit trying to un-sling his pack, but then thought better of it. He'd much rather find someplace to sit down; perhaps wash up a bit first. It took Ivan only a moment or two of watching Felix abruptly pause before that became apparent to him as well.

"Oh, you might want to rest up a bit, huh? C'mon, I'll take you to the Chief's house and get you settled, my sister should be there." Even after two years since learning of their relation, Ivan's face still broke out into a wide grin as he mentioned Hamma, putting special emphasis on they 'my' part. Felix couldn't blame him though, he'd spent three years separated from Jenna, and could still remember being almost possessive of her for the first few months of their traveling together after Sol Sanctum. Ivan had never even known he had family in the world, his attachment could be understood.

"Where's Sheba? Is she with Hamma and Moapa as well?" Looking around absently as Ivan's steps took on a more deliberate gait, Felix couldn't pick out a second blond head anywhere around them.

"We were sitting up at Trial Road, I think she's still there, it's the only respite from that… thing…" Felix could hear the frown in Ivan's voice as he spoke,

"Thing?" Pausing for a moment, the blond adept turned and looked at him with a frown, though he seemed almost surprised by the question before answering.

"Can't you feel it?" He asked, "That sickening sensation in the air, it makes my skin crawl to feel it…" Giving a small shudder, Felix watched Ivan for a moment more, before closing his eyes. Breathing deeply, he'd try to block out the noises of the village around him, only to notice how they weren't nearly as noisy as they should've been. A troop of hunters had left for the day, but that didn't mean every voice needed sound so hushed, where were the children? He'd seen several of them, but there were none running through the streets of the village, no laughter, no shouts or squeals from the waterways through the red earth.

Then he felt it, coming in a building rush. A sense of it just grazed his mind for a moment, before growing like the heat of a flame, higher and hotter, sending a chill down his spine and causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand straight. It spilled into his mind uninvited, and he felt himself give a harsh intake of breath as it plunged down through his chest, bringing a fierce pain. And then…

Crimson tiles shimmering like dragon's scales, climbing high vaulted ceilings and rippling over ancient columns. Pillars standing straight and tall like hanging serpents.

He could see…

A corridor so eerily black there was nothing beyond its end, a solitary flame suspended inert over some pedestal unseen. The ominous glow of stone turned liquid, his element melded fluidly into another, like the mixed blood in his veins...

Something… there was… somet-

His eyes snapped open, and he could feel himself shaking violently. Looking around him now, the sunshine was too brilliant across the red clay of the Shaman village. Every gnarled branch of fencing or firewood was too sharp to his eyes, even the muted activities of the people shrieked and groaned in his mind.

Ivan simply stood there, watching him, but with a look in his violet eyes which held no judgement, something which seemed so false to Felix as he stood there with his pounding heart. How could there be no judgement in the hearts of others? It was impossible for the world not to know what he'd just seen.

"You didn't feel it before?" Ivan asked quietly, watching as Felix felt the strength seeping out of his limbs. Bending over, he placed his hands over his knees, trying to calm the thunder beating away in his chest, draw air into his tightened lungs. He simply shook his head at the question.

"I did, I just…" It was hard to breathe, that intrusive presence was still there, circling his head like a blanketing fog. "I wasn't… wasn't aware that it…"

"It's worse for you I think." Ivan's hand came down on his arm, and he could feel the other man help him to straighten out, taking some of his weight as Felix tried shaking his head free of the haze. It hadn't bothered him before he'd slowed down and felt it out, why could he not ignore it again now?

"C'mon, you're tired and probably hungry too. I shouldn't've brought it up so soon." He didn't need to be taken care of, trying to shake off the arm as no one needed to worry about babying him. He knew how to take care of himself by now. "We'll explain things once you get rested up, just try to calm down, it'll get easier."

Easier? It didn't feel any easier; he managed to bring himself up to stand straight though. He didn't know what to do with himself, every ache and discomfort from his journey was suddenly amplified across his body, he felt as though he were made of unyielding wood as Ivan led him along. What was that aura? What was wrong here?

What was it?

"We'll explain it, Felix. I don't know how much sense it'll make, but we'll explain it…"


Oct 08 Edit.