They were in an Amayan port in a small city of that was far away from Greenhaven where Nego relised he had actually left the coat on his bedroll in the rafters with a helpful vision with Tagu that left his legs feeling like wheat stalks and sore arms that hurt whenever he moved them. Wherever this was, it was freezing.
Nego used up his extra flask for Tagu who was thirsty after the long swim Nego let the half-empty flask and the other one hang from his belt after stuffing his other supplies into pouches.
The arrow was at his side, wooden shaft so much thicker-coated in a sticky type of glue to prevent it from breaking in combat, four arrows at the end dotted with black spots and red at the tips and edges. The head was as sharp as knives. It wasn't made for archery but melee combat, even if it wasn't the best weapon, it would never serve in archery, and that was why Nego had chosen it.
The alleyways were the best. In concobara, alleyways was where theft increased, but to him, it was where the chances of finding a half-eaten fish or some not-yet-rotten bits of meat - anything more substantial than a piece of mouldy bread were increased by tenfold.
He had a talent for alleyways. Nego could navigate a new alleyway with his eyes closed. His bare feet were cold on the ground that always seemed wet. Clothes dripped water on the ground that were trying to dry in a place that never got any light.
Th smell of something really bad cooking wasn't new. It still smelled of garbage and grime. Nego's cloak covered the arrow, and he hugged it thighter against himself while pulling the hood of it so low it nearly covered his eyes. Even than, his eyes hurt, and his ears were cold even when it was covered by the thick fabric.
The vision had drained him so much, Nego really wanted to rest. The soreness in his arms were worse than he thought they were and his chest was aching, but his legs didn't feel as weak.
Tagu sniffed the air, and sneezed. A rat crawled out of the alleyway, sniffing at the garbage. That was a common sight, but the rats eyes were dark red. Nego knew what it was.
It was another spirit animal.
It could be a Greencloak, it could be an enemy, it could be good, and it could be bad - it could even belong to a street kid. A man with a shaved head with skin that the sun had beaten down on and a brown jacket that was neatly-buttoned looked at him.
'Vutolon, a Greencloak!' The rat's eyes went cloudy for a second, and the man blinked. 'I see. Gutter rat, you got injured on your chest by a fox a few days ago,' Nego blinked too. 'Yes, I know everything about my opponent: bonding sickness, orphan, Spirit animals refusal to go into passive mode etc. Yet, I can never look directly into a spirit animal, pity. Still, I know you don't want to fight. You would've pulled out your arrow by know, such a foolish thing to choose. But, people don't really attack me first. I mean, I don't kill, I import people to a little place where I get good money,'
Nego's hand shook over his arrow. 'Your buffalo is small, it doesn't reach my shoulder, but it has more muscle than others, with a furrier coat like a yak, but I have a rat, so it's not my right to talk about size. Still, kid, formidable spirit animal, but it can't do real damage, those horns are a bit blunt.'
Vutolon, the rat, attacked Tagu, the small but intimidating white buffalo. Nego pulled his arrow out to clash with a sword 'I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Okatia. Names are sacred, like a spirit animal. I can't look into it, but than, I'm not the one who will be dealing with you in the long run.'
As Nego spun his arrow, moving around Okatia, Tagu was panicking. The rat was running all over the place, making Tagu's vision a blur trying to keep track of the rat. Nego knew that strategy all too well, but Otakia knew his past, everything he knew.
Vutolon had Tagu on the ground, just for a few heartbeats, and Nego risked a look but it was enough for Otakia. He kicked him to the ground and tied Tagu's legs together. Nego got up, but the rat flew, and he shielded his face. Otakia threw a glass vial at his chest, something purple soaking his shirt before turning transparent and his shirt turning dry like it had never been there.
His chest exploded in pain like never before. The glass shards were stuck in the wounds that Rayon had made, but the liquid was doing something else. Making pain so intense, that he collapsed into a heap on the ground. The damp ground was cold against his head, the ground was gross, and murk pressed into his hair.
Nego curled up into a ball, and before darkness overtook him, before the alleyway disappeared, the sound of Tagu bellowing in the background felt sharp in his ears.
When Nego woke up, he was in the basement of a ship. There were wooden crates surrounding him, and he couldn't sense Tagu. There were sounds of blurry activity above him, and his ears felt fuzzy. Also, he felt like his insides were freezing.
His chest still hurt, his neck felt stiff and Nego knew he was far, far away from Amayan soil. 'All because of one fox, I get into a load of trouble.' Without Tagu, he felt ... broken. Like he wasn't being held together.
The wounds were purple at the sides, the glass shards were still embedded in them and his possessions were gone. Nego cursed even more. He had a headache and he was parched in desperate need of water.
Nego got up weakly, but his legs buckled underneath him. The ship accelerated, and the cargo went sliding into him. Nego groaned.
He felt helpless, at the mercy of someone else, and he didn't like it. The ship stopped suddenly, and a horn sounded.
Nego had a bad feeling where he was.