Episode 25 never happened. Rose never got a redesign. Okay? Okay.
Though he couldn't see it, Dezel knew the carpet was beautiful. Covered with intricate, colourful patterns, it depicted an assortment of local wildlife—howling hyenas, sparring scorpions, and elephants that paraded the border. Thick vines snaked along the patterns, ornamented with deep red leaves and fat birds with rich plumage. At the forefront of the shop's display, the carpet swayed gently in the wind, bathed in the evening light. A true work of art.
Even if he couldn't technically see it, he could differentiate between colours by identifying the substances used for dye: blue from the roots of a common flowering plant around Lohgrin; yellow from the venom of a Zaphgott scorpion; black from oak acorns; and red, if he wasn't mistaken, not from the usual Mazro Ruvhodia but by the superior leaves of Laisle Leitna, more commonly known as satora, an incredibly rare fern from Plitzerback Wetland. Given how saturated the wool was with dye, it must have taken months to compile it all. Dezel knew well how hard they were to find.
He'd never forget the first time he'd laid eyes on the works of Lohgrin's resident carpetmaker, shortly after he'd joined the Windriders. As a rule he'd avoided human settlements, but Lafarga had insisted he come along.
Initially, Dezel had found the chaos of the market unnerving—so many humans in one place, shouting and laughing and pushing and sometimes fighting, how could they stand it without going insane? But then he'd seen the jaw-slackening wonder that was the carpet stall. So many vibrant colours, so many complex designs, and all crafted by mere human hands. Lafarga had laughed at his incredulity.
Lafarga. The thought of him made Dezel's throat constrict, but it no longer overwhelmed him. The shame and regret hadn't dulled, not a bit, but ... he was growing used to the constancy.
Now, he had a more pressing guilt to preoccupy him.
He turned away from the shop. A steady breeze glided along the street, sweeping up sand and dust. Merchants shouted their wares and customers haggled for lower prices, and though he tolerated the cacophony better than he had, he still didn't know how anyone could willingly live in it, day after day. And even like it. Humans were strange.
In Dezel's memory shops and stalls had packed the streets of Lohgrin's market, but now more often than not, empty lots gapped between stalls so that customers vastly outnumbered merchants. The talk of the town was that a rampaging elephant on Zaphgott Moor was trampling every merchant caravan in sight. A hellion, no doubt. He expected when everyone gathered at the inn in a few hours, Sorey would announce his plans to quell it.
Reaching another block, Dezel noticed something strange. Most shops were crowded over with customers, but there was one stall, just in the middle of the street, that had only one customer. He approached it, intending to investigate, and so intent was he on investigation, he nearly walked right into Rose.
He dashed behind a stack of crates. She hadn't noticed him, being too engrossed with watching the same thing he had been: the exchange between a merchant and his sole customer. It didn't look good—the customer had her arms folded across her chest, looking as if she were about to cry, while the merchant threateningly leaned over the crates which served as a counter, his eyes spiteful. Behind him was a shoulder-high pile of sacks.
She pleaded. "—don't see why you can't lower it for me, I've got six mouths to feed and I can't afford—"
The merchant's derisive laugh cut her off. "You think you're the only person around here with mouths to feed? No—you pay the full price, or you get nothing." He leaned back, clearly proud of himself. "Now, if you're not gonna buy anything, then scram before I have the guard arrest you for loitering."
She swiftly turned away. She swept past Rose, bumping into her, but Rose only watched her departure impassively.
Dezel knew he shouldn't have stayed. He shouldn't have even been watching Rose in the first place. But his feet remained planted where they were.
"You want anything, girlie?" the merchant called. Rose didn't react to his leer, but inwardly, Dezel fumed. "I've got you covered for all your baking needs. Yeast, flour—"
"About that." The merchant looked annoyed at being cut off, but she persisted, casually resting her arms upon his counter. "You're selling five pounds of flour for 70 gald?"
"Four pounds, actually." He scratched his armpit. "You interested?"
"Around here, isn't the normal price about 10 gald per pound?"
His face darkened. "So what?"
"You're way over-priced."
"What's it to you?" he demanded. "I put my life on the line coming here with that killer elephant on the loose, and this is the compensation I get? You Lohgriners are so damn stingy!"
She smiled at him. "May I see your seller's permit?"
For a split second his face fell, but he quickly drew up his arrogant façade. "No."
"Why not?" Her smile widened—she was clearly enjoying herself.
"Why not? 'Cause I'd bet anything you're planning on stealing it for yourself, that's why." He got really close to Rose's face, almost nose-to-nose, and added quietly, "And I don't know who sent you, but if you leave right now and keep your mouth shut, girlie, then maybe I'll let you off easy." He bared his teeth.
Rose didn't move a single muscle; only stared coolly back at him. When the merchant realized his bravado didn't faze her in the slightest, his eyes narrowed, but he was too stubborn to lean back.
This guy has no idea who he's dealing with, Dezel thought.
"All right, here's what's gonna happen," Rose said. The merchant's fists tightened on the edge of the counter until by the end of her speech, his knuckles were stark white. "You're gonna lower all of your prices to a reasonable amount—for flour, let's say 11 gald per pound. Actually, make that 13. Too low and they'll get suspicious you don't have a permit, which you would have if you weren't a complete moron but that's beside the point—"
"You—!" The merchant had barely raised a fist before Dezel, without thinking, shoved him back with the wind. He crashed into his stock and white powder clouded over him before the wind scattered it down the street. People covered their faces, and the fruit seller the next stall over looked more than a little miffed that his produce was now speckled with white. The merchant, no less speckled than the fruit, peered at Rose with utter bewilderment. She looked down at him, a strange smile on her face, an eyebrow cocked.
By now a small crowd had gathered the watch the spectacle. Not good—the guard could arrive at any moment. Rose and the local authorities never proved to be a good mix.
"You'll pay for every last penny of this," the merchant groaned.
Rose leapt over the divide, pulling a dagger from its sheath. He scrambled to his feet with a high-pitched shout, but Rose only crouched next to the toppled pile and cut open a sack. She ignored his curses and threats as she pinched some powder between her fingers, then raised it to her mouth.
She immediately spit it out. "Ugh, sawdust? Really?"
Some chuckles from the crowd. If Dezel could have seen the man, he'd have bet his face was bright red. "You lying bi—!"
"And what's with selling this crap at such a ridiculously high price, anyway? That's just idiotic. Even here, you can't be making much doing that." She suddenly laughed. "Oh, don't tell me—someone else ripped you off with this product since you were too stupid to actually check it out for yourself, so you figured you'd take it here to try to turn your mistake into profit?"
He scowled. "The sample they gave me was clean."
Rose laughed even harder.
To his dismay, Dezel noticed a pair of humans rounding the corner onto the street, dressed in light armour and with swords at their hips. Guards. Dammit.
Rose tsked, oblivious to the threat. "And all this without a permit, too. You are sad, aren't you." A man in the crowd laughed loudly.
The guards were nearly upon them, so Dezel was left with no choice. So much for hiding. He let out a breath, then sent a whisper in the wind, directly to her ear: "Guards approaching from the east."
She tensed in surprise, but with a glance, confirmed it was true. In one fluid movement she leapt over the divide and into the throng, ignoring the obscenities the merchant shouted after her. Her unusually stony expression betrayed her anger but, luckily for Dezel, she didn't spare a backward glance as she passed his hiding spot.
Well. It was about time he moved on, too.
When they saw each other again, she'd be justifiably angry. He shouldn't have been watching her, she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but—what if she'd gotten into trouble? Reckless as she was, she needed someone to watch her back.
It was a flimsy excuse, he knew. Even if she needed backup, he had no right to take that role for himself. He never had.
In the past two weeks, she hadn't said one word to him. But that didn't mean she ignored him. Oh, she pretended to, of course, but she always went rigid whenever she was in Dezel's presence, and only ever relaxed when she thought he was gone. As if she was subconsciously aware of his every movement, watching, verifying. He couldn't help but be reminded of one of the lessons Brad had ingrained in her: Watch your enemy.
He worried about her. She didn't eat enough, and she didn't get enough sleep, either. It was rare, a night she fell asleep before the early hours of the morning. Not that he tried to pry—really, he didn't—but he could instinctually tell when humans were asleep, by the way their muscles relaxed and their temperature dropped. While Sorey slept soundly beside her, Rose tossed and turned, occasionally sighing. Whenever a seraph neared she'd keep herself still and feign sleep, but the bags under her eyes in the morning gave her away.
She'd never had sleeping problems before. If she hadn't hated the very sight of him Dezel would have recommended some herbs that could help her sleep better, but he remembered too well her conversation with Sorey. She hated the thought of people scrutinizing her when she was in such a vulnerable state.
Still, if this kept up much longer, there might be more at stake than her pride.
But what could he do? Only she had the right to breach the wall between them—he knew that, now. And if she never did, well ... the choice was hers. Hers, and hers alone.
On his way back to the inn, he passed the carpet shop. A woman, dressed in silks, was buying the carpet he'd so admired. He sincerely hoped she'd give it all the appreciation it deserved.
Sorey greeted him when he entered the inn's common room, earning sidelong glances and raised eyebrows from the other patrons. Ever since he'd come back Sorey had treated him the same as he ever did without a hint of pretence, fool as he was. Lailah was much the same, though she gave him worried looks from time to time. Mikleo on the other hand was distant, but then, they'd never been such great friends to begin with. But Edna was always cold and dismissive, never even looking at him if she could help it. Her contempt stung, but he couldn't say he didn't deserve it, even from her.
Even if the past two weeks had been disheartening at times, Dezel wouldn't have traded his position for the world. His time away made him realize that right now, there was nowhere he'd rather be than with the Shepherd's group. He may have been the worst candidate for the job, and he certainly didn't deserve such a high station, but from now on, he was determined to never let go so easily. They were stuck with him.
After an hour of trying not to worry (and failing), Rose entered just as they were about to eat supper. She neither looked at nor spoke to Dezel, which worried him more than if she'd started to shout at him. Was she really planning on just ignoring what had happened?
The serving man kept his head bowed as he set their food on the table, as if he were afraid of offending the seraphim he could not see just by looking at them. Silly human—though perhaps not quite as silly as the humans who refused to believe they were there. Just as the man shut the door behind him, Sorey announced his intentions to check out and, if need be, purify the rampaging hellion.
Called it, Dezel thought.
"You mustn't get side-tracked in your search for the remaining Earthen Historia," Lailah reminded him. Earlier that day they'd been to see Mayvin, and after deciphering what cryptic things he'd told them, decided what they needed to do. Dezel hadn't expected Mayvin to be the Storyteller of Time, but it didn't surprise him, either—that old man had always been a little too perceptive for a regular human.
"But I also must not get so focused on my quest to save the world at large that I ignore the suffering of the people right in front of me," Sorey said, smiling.
Lailah nodded, satisfied with his answer. Rose's lips curved into a small smile, and Dezel thought he knew who she was thinking of.
The rest of the meal went peacefully. After Rose and Sorey went to bed, Dezel decided some fresh air was in order.
At night, Lohgrin was like a ghost town: utterly silent and still, with only the barest reminders that the living had ever crossed its streets. The wind had died down for the night, which always made Dezel uneasy, but it was nice to be alone. The only reason he wasn't in his immaterial form was because he wanted to feel the cool night air on his face.
Movement atop the outer wall. He froze. A night guard, maybe? He'd never encountered one before, but with that elephant hellion on the loose, it wasn't far fetched for them to start having some. The quickness of movement relayed urgency, so he concentrated on the person's shape, and ...
Rose. Dressed in normal clothes, so she wasn't on a job. She turned her head from side to side, obviously looking for something or someone, her footsteps silent despite her speed. Really, he should have known it was her by that alone. And with her speed, he'd be right in her line of sight in mere seconds.
He didn't know what possessed him, to just keep plodding along, but that's what he did. He didn't know why he didn't immediately dissipate on the spot—really, it's what he should have done.
Especially since the worst possible thing that could have happened did happen.
"Hey, Dezel!"
Her voice echoed through the air, reverberated off the walls. Dezel suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere but with her, but he forced himself to stay put. Forced himself to face her. She jumped off the wall and landed in a crouch, only a few feet away from him.
He tried his hardest not to focus on her, so of course, it was the only thing he could pay attention to. Her chest raised and fell with her heaving, she shook her bangs out of her eyes, she lightly curled her fingers at her side. She looked up at his face. Feeling his cheeks grow warm, he turned away.
She finally said, "I didn't need you to interfere with that merchant."
"I know."
"Then why did you do it?" She looked at him flatly.
"I didn't really think about it." He was almost surprised she couldn't extract information from him just by her penetrating gaze alone. "It was just instinct, I guess."
She frowned.
If he could've figured out which answer she'd wanted him to give her, he would've given it. After she didn't say anything for a few long moments he said, as meekly as possible, "Is that all?"
"No." She glanced away. "Actually, I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now. But you've been avoiding me."
"You've been avoiding me too," he said defensively.
"True." She stared all around them—at the run-down blacksmith at the far end of the street, at the dusty-signed cooper across from them, at the shabby farrier directly beside them. They weren't exactly in a great part of town. The empty farrier's stable, covered in splinters, looked as if it hadn't been used in years. Rose glanced back at him, then away, then sighed. "I hate being mad at you."
... He'd heard the words right. It'd just been in the wrong order. I hate. Being mad. And you? I hate you at being mad. Being mad at you I hate. At hate I mad being you.
"Not that you don't deserve it," she quickly said. "Of course I do, what you did to me was fucked up. So fucked up. But ..."
But?
She hugged herself. "I hate this bitterness. It's not good for me. I want to be free."
He swallowed. It devastated him to say it. "If you want, I can leave—"
"What? No!" She rolled her eyes and sighed again, this time exasperatedly. "Don't you remember how badly that went last time?"
How could I forget? Sorry."
"Don't apologize." Her words dripped with venom as she glared at the ground—glared at him. "Apologies don't cut it, especially not for you."
"Is ..." He trailed off, then tried again, in a small voice. "Is there anything I can do?" A question he'd asked himself, but hadn't found any answer.
She looked at him.
He resisted the urge to wipe his clammy hands on his pants.
"No." Her words came out slowly. "I don't think so."
Exhale.
Her gaze turned upwards. "If you wanna know if I'll ever forgive you or not, well ..."
"I don't."
She pressed her lips together, then said, "It's probably better that way."
They stood there for a while. Rose still had her arms around herself, still watched the sky. Dezel had accepted a long time ago that he'd never again be able to see the stars, but tonight, he'd have given almost anything to be able to take in their beauty once more.
She said, "I know you didn't do it because you hated me, or wanted to hurt me. But that doesn't change that you still did it anyway. I think that makes it worse—you didn't really want to, you knew how fucked up it was, but you still did it."
"I know." It made him sick.
Silence.
He had a sneaking suspicion that this would be the last time they'd ever talk like this. Maybe it was a stupid thing to ask, but he'd never know otherwise. "Why did you save me?"
"I wanted to save Sorey." She rubbed her arms to warm them. "And at the time, saving you was the only way I could think of to do it."
He cursed himself for his disappointment. Damned idiot. What did you expect?
"... But I think I would've regretted it if I'd let you die."
He didn't know if he'd heard her right—regret?—but even if he really didn't, he said, "I see."
"Anyway." She rubbed her nose. "That's all I really wanted to say, so." She turned to leave.
"Wait." She looked at him in askance. How to say this without coming off as a creep? "Um, I've noticed you've been having sleeping problems lately."
"I have." Her expression was unreadable.
He pulled a small package from his pocket. "If you chew one of these just before going to bed, you should sleep soundly for a few hours."
"Satora leaves?" She stared at it like she thought it was going to jump out and bite her. "How long did it take you to get that much?"
"I don't know." He did know. The past week when they'd been travelling through Zaphgott Moor, every night while she and Sorey were asleep—or pretended to, at least—he'd rode the wind to the outskirts of Plitzerback Wetland to search for satora leaves, till his hands and legs from the knee down were covered in mud and his exhaustion was bone-deep. He hadn't thought ahead to actually finding an opportunity to give them to her, but ... "Just a while. I'd been saving them for personal use," another lie, "but you need them more than I do."
"Thanks." As she took them the tips of her fingers happened to graze his, and a shock went through him at her touch.
He crossed his arms. "Good night, Rose."
She left. It wasn't long before she crossed the bounds of his awareness.
After that he gave himself up to the wind, letting it take him wherever it would. He didn't have to think, didn't have to feel. It was only until well into the morning, just before Sorey and Rose were due to awaken, that he returned to Lohgrin.
When Rose came out, she gave no indication of the significance of their talk last night—not a word, not a glance.
He didn't know why he couldn't shake the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. Their talk had gone much better than he ever could have hoped for, hadn't it?