Quistis stretched her arms out and yawned, pushing away from the desk. Her eyes were going cross from hours of staring at the tiny, precise handwriting, and her head was swimming with a thousand different thoughts. Her eyes fell on the rose petal laying on the desk and frowned.
This is nonsense. It's a coincidence, nothing more. Dreams are just dreams.
Deciding not to give it another thought, she swept the petal aside. She'd worked straight through lunch, and Benton had brought a plate in to her for an early supper. Lord Gefrey had appeared a few times, dropping off reports and checking on her progress.
Quistis snorted. Progress? Not much, I'm afraid. She had managed to learn that this Finder's Way she'd be seeking was a plain silver rod topped with a sapphire, and that it's powers were fairly simple. It gave off light on command, revealed hidden doors and dispelled invisibility. And the journal gave me nothing but a headache. The journal was written entirely in the strange code Gefrey had spoken of, like nothing she had ever seen.
Maybe I'll go down to the pub...now, Quistis, this is hardly a time to be drinking.
But bars are great places to here rumors and stories, she argued with herself. Besides, I've been working all day. I'll be working all day tomorrow, too, and I'll probably get good and dirty at it. I should relax a bit while I can.
That settled it. She got up, gathered the papers and the little book, and headed for her room.
The tavern room was full when she arrived, the workers from the fields without wives to go home to—a few with with wives—for a bit of drink and company before heading home. There weren't many travelers in this part of the country, but for those that did, Starvale was a welcome stop along the way.
She took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of hard apple cider, which the bartender assured was the best anywhere. Across the room, a poker game ended. The winner stood, gloating, a burly bear of a man dressed in plain brown work clothes. She saw the man coming towards her before he reached the bar, silently cursing at him for ruining her evening right out of the gate.
"Hey, thar, honey," he drawled in what she guessed was supposed to be a seductive manner. "I've not seen you around here before."
"That is because this is the first time I've been."
"Ah." He smiled knowingly. "An' I bet you'd like a guide, somebody to show ya the sights of Starvale."
Please. Couldn't you come up with anything better than that? "Actually, I've seen most of it already, thank you."
"But I bet you ain't seen my place," he grinned at her. Quistis thought she might die here and now under the assault of that horrible breath. She was contemplating how many times she could get her whip around his throat—not many, from the looks of it—when a strong arm came in between them.
"I believe the lady wishes to be left alone," a voice said softly. Resting a hand on the handle of Save the Queen, Quistis turned to regard the speaker.
She could barely contain her gasp as she set eyes on the most…beautiful man she'd ever seen. The short sleeved gray shirt and worn leather breeches he wore did little to hide the rippling muscles of a perfect physique, lean and toned without bulging. He had moved between with silent, catlike grace, carrying himself with a quiet air of confidence that spoke of experience far beyond his apparently young years. Long, silky black hair hung far past his shoulders, like an ebony waterfall, perfectly framing chiseled features. Most wondrous were those eyes…Intense, nearly glowing pools of amethyst fire.
Shut your mouth, Quistis, and don't drool.
For a moment the burly man seemed as if he would argue the point, but the purple eyed warrior—for that was what Quistis was certain this man had to be—simply shifted his left hip forward and dropped a hand to casually rest on the hilt of a sword which hung there. Grumbling something about 'payin' damages,' he shuffled off towards the back door, presumably to find another female who was more…willing
"Thank you," Quistis said quietly as the stranger slid into the seat beside her.
"Not a problem, my lady. Sometimes we wanderers have to look out for each other." His voice was music, a flow of liquid syllables that rained down on her like a shower of gold.
Quistis started as the thought completed itself in her mind.
Shower of gold?
"Do I know you?" she asked.
He looked at her, a small smile crossing his face. "No, I don't believe so."
"Where are you from?"
He shrugged. "Nowhere. Everywhere. I don't remember. I've been on the road so long…"
"You didn't grow up in an orphanage, did you?" What the hell are you doing, Trepe? This guy doesn't look anything like the children you remember.
He regarded her more completely now. "No…No, I didn't. Why?"
"…Nothing." It was just a stupid dream! "I'm Quistis."
He was quiet for a long moment, as if trying to decide something. Finally he reached out a hand towards her. "I am Gabriel. Nice to meet you, Quistis."
She shook his hand and smiled. Oh, good going, honey. Give your name to a complete stranger.
He's not a stranger.
Quistis frowned, wondering where that thought had come from.
"Something wrong?" Gabriel asked, tilting his head to the side.
I know you.
"Oh, nothing…It's just that it's getting late, and I have an awful lot to do tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, Gabriel."
"Take care of youself, Quistis," he replied softly before returning to his drink.
Once outside in the cold autumn air, Quistis stopped to take a few deep breaths. This is starting to get creepy. Rose petals in old notes, weird dreams I can only barely remember in the morning, and now this serious case of dejavu. I need a vacation.
She laughed aloud at the absurdity of the notion. Vacation? Never. She started walking back down the road to the Vanderstyll Manor. Tomorrow would be a busy day…