Before the Storm

by WildSnivy

The attack on Zeplich took many lives, both Warmblood and Moonblood alike. And two of them are to be forever entwined as the Sen-Mithrarin. This is a prelude to the events leading up to the attack, and the tale of one man's willingness to protect everything he loves. Thanks to Humble Hearts for a downright spectacular game (and the cover) and to you for reading!

4. Closed Doors

Dust: An Elysian Tail

Before The Storm

Written by WildSnivy

Chapter 4

Closed Doors

The door to our house is knocked upon about an hour later, and Nikolai invites us out to lunch. We decide on the village inn near the town's market, a wide strip of road at least a half-kilometer long, bordered all the way down by stands and shops and mobile merchants, selling everything from hardware to groceries to trade goods to jewelry and everything in between. I may have preferred Sereth's tent when it came to trading, but it's hard to ignore the sheer variety present in town's strip.

The inn sat a little further ahead of the market, a brilliant location for any visitors enticed by the shops, not that far from the town hall or the courtyard either. It was one of the town's most prolific resting areas as a result, and tended to attract a lot of business on a normal day. Though considering everybody in the town was in the square a few moments ago, I like our chances of finding a table.

My stomach inaudibly growls in anticipation. I'm still shocked I somehow managed to go three and a half days without eating. Or really doing anything else for that matter. It'll feel nice to finally get something solid to chew on. I hear Ginger suppressing a laugh as we walk towards the inn.

"What's up with you?" I ask her.

I see her smile for the first time all week. "You really want to eat something, don't you?"

My stomach moans again and I yank my jacket over it. "You didn't hear that," I instruct her, discounting my body's response to her question.

"She didn't have ta!" Nikolai chortles from behind her. "You've been lookin' like that ever since we left yer house."

I raise an eyebrow. "Looking like what?"

Nikolai toothily grins in my direction. "Well, you ever seen a dog when he hears it's time for his dinner?"

I feel my gaze narrow. "I'm not acting anything like that, Nik!" I retort.

The blacksmith almost smugly points down the road in response. "There she is. The Eagle & Avee," he identifies, and then starts snickering as I catch myself quickly walking towards the inn, ahead of both him and Ginger.

Jeesh, I really am hungry, I say to myself. And although it's nice to know that'll be fixed in a moment, I hate it when my body reminds me of its issues like this.

After I tell it to slow down and rejoin my sister and friend, Nikolai peeks the window and examines the inn's interior for a moment. His expression lights up as he catches an empty table, and quickly marches over to the door and heaves it open, inviting me and Ginger inside.

I look around the inn, and notice that many of the tables are surprisingly occupied already. The atmosphere is loud, mostly due to the volume of people inside, and probably as they pick apart Cassius' little speech. Looks like a lot of the people at the hearing had the same idea Nikolai had, and are passing some of the downtime at one of the more popular spots in the town. It's hard to say I blame them; the military has effectively invaded Zeplich, what better way to take the mind off of things than a good sandwich and a few tables for cards?

The bartender is a light-tan lupine Warmblood, with shoulder length brown hair underneath the black bandana swallowing the upper half of her head. She expertly, swiftly finishes mixing a cocktail, pouring in each ingredient with careful speed and finesse, and slides it down the polished wood bar to its recipient. She glances at the three of us out of the corner of her eye and then cheerfully waves at us. "Nikolai! Jin!" she yells to get our attention.

Nikolai returns the gesture conservatively. "Yer not too busy for us, are ya, Marcia?" he calls to her over the clamor.

She smiles as she shakes her head no and points at the window. "There's a booth right over there!" she directs. "Get comfortable, I'll be right with you!"

Nikolai nods and escorts us to the spot, slowly navigating his way around the tables, trying not to disturb anyone any more than he has to. He takes a seat closest to the window, and Ginger follows him on the same side. I decide to be loner and sit across from them.

The blacksmith sighs and slouches back in his seat, following the "get comfortable" command from Marcia to the best of his ability. "This is prob'ly the best idea I'll have today," he smirks with esteem.

"Thanks for inviting us, by the way," Ginger chimes in.

"Not at all," Nikolai says as he turns his head halfway between me and her. "You two've had a bit of a rough patch past few days. I thought I'd help out somehow."

I stare at my abdomen again, making sure it didn't want to say anything before I did. "Sandwich doesn't sound too bad right now," I softly remark.

"You see why I thought this'd be a good spot for ya then, eh?" Nikolai fires back with a grin. He sounds like he had premeditated what I wanted; The Eagle & Avee probably made the best roast beef in Blackmoor, and almost everybody knew it. Marcia made it a house specialty, and since then that sandwich was the most ubiquitously ordered one in the town.

I can't help but appreciatively smile at Nikolai after a second. He might not look like it, but he definitely knows how to get you back on your feet.

"Ah, right!" he exclaims as he sits himself back up in his seat. "You wanted ta talk ta me about somethin' earlier, Jin? Before Cassius jumped in?"

My mind happens to be on that topic exactly. Already he's two for two in the ESP department. "Uh, yeah," I confirm, itching the back of my hand.

"Well, let's hear it then!" Nikolai coaxes. "What's on yer mind?"

I hesitantly clear my throat and look back up at him. "Well, with the parents gone, Ginger and I don't really have much in the way of income, and we're going to need a way to..." Why am I getting so worked up over asking this again? The worst he's going to do is say no, and if he did, it isn't catastrophic. I'd just need to brush up on my janitorial skills, much as I want to avoid wasting time on that.

"Yer lookin' for work?" he asks.

I nod. "And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, I was hoping you could help out with that," I slowly add.

Nikolai shoots another grin my way. "Why wouldn't I?" he responds. "The forge can always use another hand or two, if yer interested."

I don't think I could have accepted that offer any quicker. "Yes, sir! Absolutely!" I exuberantly yell.

Nikolai raises an eyebrow back. Ginger just blinks. "Sir?" she skeptically repeats.

"That's certainly a step up for me, eh?" the blacksmith playfully glances over at Ginger.

Haphazardly, I try to justify my words. "Well, he's technically my boss now, right? I don't think I can really call him by name in the professional sense."

Nikolai rests an elbow on the table and his head on his fist. "Jin, I'm not yer boss, aight? Just a good friend helpin' out someone in need. Nothin' more or less."

He reaches his other hand across the table. "But, if you'd like the work..."

He finally gets a smile out of me. "I'll gladly take it," I confirm as we shake hands and cement the agreement, and my mind clears up right away as one of my major issues is resolved. I have a job now. It might be temporary but at least it's a job. And at least it'll keep me and Ginger on steady ground until I can find something more stable. Not saying that Nikolai's forge wasn't, of course, but the less I had to indispose him, the better. I'll just work with him until either Ginger can find something or I see a better position. He shouldn't have any problems with that, and if his expression is anything to go by, it doesn't look like he would either.

Nikolai peers back over at my sister as well. "And if you need anythin' from me too, Miss Ginger..."

She catches Marcia quickly walking towards us holding a large black tray with our lunch resting on it. "I think this will be alright for now, Nik," she tells him as the innkeeper sets the tray down on the adjacent table and starts distributing the famed roast beef sandwiches between the three of us.

"Sorry for the wait," Marcia states as she slides the first two plates towards Nikolai and Ginger. "I don't think I've ever had a rush quite this crazy before."

"Nothin' ta worry 'bout," Nikolai replies as he tugs one of the paper napkins over to himself and places it on his lap. "That hearin' outside messed with everyone's timin's."

"Is that what was going on?" Marcia asks as she drops off my sandwich. There's at least a quarter-pound of meat between the elongated roll, and the melted cheese is still bubbling a bit and dripping off one of the ends. It's beautiful, or at least by my standards.

Ginger peers up at her incredulously. "Were you really not there, Marcia?"

Marcia holds the tray in front of her with both hands, like she possibly might need it as an improvised shield. "I couldn't really leave the inn unattended, and I wasn't really sure what was going on outside. So I picked the lesser of two evils." Credit where it's due; Marcia lived and died by her inn's call of duty. Zeplich could be in the middle of a volcanic eruption and I'm all but sure Marcia would still be in The Eagle & Avee selling lemonade and ash-proofed umbrellas.

"So what all did I miss?" she asks as she drops off her serving tray onto the table next to ours.

I ask the obvious question, seeing as how she seems to be the only one working tables at the moment. "You don't have other people you should be waiting on?"

She turns to the open kitchen door in response. "Hey, Roscoe!" she yells into the door over the rabble of customers. "Can you cover me for a minute?"

"You got it, Marce!" comes the relatively soft reply as Marcia's younger cousin scampers out the door and dashes behind the bar. I inch myself along the booth's seat to make room for Marcia, and she slides in right after me.

"Never seen it this busy after a town meeting before," she notes as she looks back out over the sea of customers.

"Well there's a lot for them to chew on right now," I say as I take the inaugural bite out of my sandwich. I peer back down at it for a moment and then back at Marcia. "No pun intended."

I see Marcia give a small grin before it dissolves back to a neutrally concerned expression. "Seriously, what happened?" she demands again.

"Royal Army's 'ere," Nikolai huffs as he dashes some pepper onto the sandwich's filling. "It's apparently in response ta..."

Nikolai halted that sentence right where it stood, and I can see him struggling to find the right words to finish it with. "...that little mishap with the scoutin' party," he finishes, almost shamefully.

Marcia doesn't say much back either. She knows what Nikolai wanted to avoid saying. Ginger glances at me, and it takes me a second to pick up on what she wants to know. I give her a slight nod and a reluctant grin.

"It's okay to talk about it," she says as she tugs the pepper shaker out of Nikolai's grasp. "We don't mind it."

"Yer sure?"

"We've done our share of mourning, to be honest," I reply, approvingly glancing at Ginger from my peripherals. "It's relevant anyways, so why not be open about it?"

Nikolai still looks uncertain, but accepts my judgment anyways. "Aye, fair enough," he concedes as he bites into his lunch.

Marcia looks between the three of us, expectantly, until Ginger realizes we never fully answered her question. "They think we're hiding something," she elaborates, keeping her voice down to a barely audible level.

The innkeeper scoffs a bit. "Mostly because we are," she replies. "Do they know anything?"

"No, but they're on pretty high alert," I answer. "They said they'd be patrolling the town and..." I clear my throat as I get ready to mimic Cassius. "'Eliminate the Moonblood sympathizers infesting our town.'"

"Jin!" my sister chastises.

"What? Did I say that wrong?" I jokingly reply.

"This is serious!" she hisses. "What if they find Fuse and the camp?"

The mood immediately dies. The roast beef in my mouth goes tasteless. My brain freezes. That thought actually never crossed my mind. Cassius never said that the patrols were going to be restricted to the town limits. They may very well bump into Fuse's camp, even accidentally, at some point. And they'd be completely surprised. At least as far as I know, nobody tried to run to the camp and let them know the Royal Army was here.

"Fuse...doesn't know what's going on right now, does he?" I shakily ask the other three at the table.

Nikolai gives Marcia a look like he's deferring the question to her. "Not that I know of," is his response.

"Nobody's gotten back to me either," Marcia adds, then shrugs indifferently. "It's fine. If he doesn't know now, he should by tonight."

Ginger swallows her bite before speaking back up. "Why's that?"

"Roscoe and I have a stockpile in the back we plan to run down there at some point," she elaborates as she points a thumb at her cousin. "Just some extra foodstuffs from a catering event yesterday."

Nikolai puts his napkin to his mouth. "And yer gonna try it with the military 'bout?"

"We'll just wait for it to go dark and sneak around them. Nothing we haven't done before, right?" she replies.

The blacksmith opens his mouth to protest again, but doesn't get too far before the door to the inn swings open again. The entire uproar of the day's lunch hour abruptly skids to a stone cold silence, almost without warning or prompt. Marcia turns her head over her shoulder and peeks past the edge of the seat. Nikolai and I have to stand up to see the new visitors, but both of us sit right back down once we catch sight of the polished blue steel uniforms, and the oversized hat of the man they are escorting.

Marcia quickly turns back away and just stares at the table. Her face might not be showing it, but she's definitely scared. It's probably safe to say we all are at this point. Ginger sets her sandwich down and moves a bit closer to Nikolai, further away from Cassius and his cronies.

"Good afternoon," the commander shouts to the inn's clientele. "Is the inn's owner available?"

I can tell Marcia doesn't want to talk to him right now. She continues to stare blankly at the table, refusing to acknowledge him, much like everyone else at the inn at present.

"Is he out on business?" Cassius asks again, with just a hint of annoyance in his tone.

The innkeeper shuts her eyes, and takes a deep breath in and out. Slowly, shakily, she raises her hand off to the side of the table, conceding her position to Cassius' men. "I'm over here," she quietly states. "Sir."

I guess Cassius needed a second to see who was talking, but his men march right over to our table as soon as he sees Marcia's arm. I try not to look at him more than I need to. Ginger diverts her eyes as well.

Cassius looks around the restaurant a little bit before he says anything more. "Might I say you take great care of this place," he remarks, as if that'll make him any more likable.

Marcia slowly nods in acknowledgement. "Thank you for your opinion, sir," she rigidly responds.

"Please, relax. No need to be nervous, Miss...?" Cassius politely requests her name. He speaks softly, but that doesn't seem to remove that cold edge from his words, that sharp feeling of dread that walled him away from sounding anything but sinister.

Marcia clears her throat and calms herself as much as she can. I still feel her foot rapidly pounding the floor next to me. "Marcia, sir," she quietly introduces herself. "My name is Marcia."

The commander tugs his hat a bit more over his eyes. "Very nice. And you can call me Cassius," he invites, though almost everyone at the table knows Marcia is never going to.

Cassius surveys the inn once again. "I was going to ask if you could answer some questions for us, but it appears you may be a little busy at present," he observes, with a small amount of disdain in his voice.

"Just the afternoon lunch rush, sir," Marcia chokes out, like she's trying to hurry the conversation along and get Cassius out the door.

"So I see," Cassius replies, turning back to the innkeeper. "Then on that note, would it be too much trouble if we came by later today?"

Marcia clears her throat. "Not at all, sir," she says.

"Will you be here at around, say, seven tonight?"

I think I see her eyes widen. I can tell she wants to say no. But she doesn't have much of a choice. "Seven will be just fine," she hesitantly responds. "Sir."

"Excellent," Cassius confirms, still maintaining that neutral expression he walked into town with. "And perhaps I'll bring my platoon in as well. I've heard many good things about this place."

"I'll try not to disappoint," Marcia forces through a reluctant smile.

"I'm certain you won't," Cassius blank-facedly assures as he turns to the inn's front door. "Good day, Miss Marcia. Our camp is on the northern face of the mountain, if you require anything else."

He tips his hat towards the innkeeper and casually proceeds out the door, his two bodyguards following shortly behind him and slamming the door on their way out. The inn remains completely quiet for a few seconds, until Marcia yells, "They're gone, people! You can start talking again."

The familiar clamor wastes no time in refilling the room, as Marcia sighs with exasperation and pushes her bandana back on her head. "Well, that's my plan completely gone," she grumbles.

"Ah, c'mon. Yer just a bit tied up is all," Nikolai optimistically replies as he returns to his sandwich. "Fuse'll get it if yer a little behind..."

"The army's in the way," I immediately point out.

Nikolai blinks. "How's that?"

"They set themselves up on the northern face of the mountain, Nik," I talk him through the problem. "So, geographically, what two spots does that put them between?"

Nikolai slowly puts his sandwich back down and rests his head on his thumbs, the rest of his hands hiding his face from the nose down. "Never mind," he replies.

Ginger looks back over at Marcia. "What happens to the supplies then?"

"Never mind the supplies, Ginger. What about just basic communication?" I add. "Fuse doesn't know that the army's here, and we can't tell him because they've cut us off."

"That's just sneaky, that is," Nikolai mumbles.

I see Ginger twitch violently for a split second. "Jin, you don't think..."

I'm actually not sure what she's concerned about this time; the answer could hypothetically be anything. Instead, I wait for her to finish her question.

"You don't think they already know about the camp, do you?"

I take a moment to think on that before responding. My only gripe being I don't have a more definite answer than, "I'm not sure."

Ginger blinks confusedly, and I try to explain. "I mean, yeah, it's really inconvenient that they put themselves between us and the camp, but that might have been just by accident. Plus, from what Cassius said, I think they just know there's Moonbloods in the vicinity."

"But they don't know exactly where yet," Ginger finishes.

I nod. "So if that's the case, and they don't know where they've put themselves..."

My surroundings immediately go silent, and my thoughts take over all the noise in their stead. I might have just solved the problem Cassius' squad now presented. I think Ginger tries getting my attention a few times, but she's drowned out by the machinations, the particulars of a new plan as they click into place. Cassius thinks he has us all pinned down by the occupation. He's probably going to revise that thought in a minute.

"Jin?" Ginger finally breaks through. "Are you okay?"

Instead of answering that question, I turn right back to Nikolai, and apologetically smile at him. "Nik, on second thought, I might have to turn your offer down."

He glares at me and lowers his hands, revealing a mischievous smile, like he knows exactly what I'm about to say next. "And why's that?"

I glance over at Marcia, who looks the most concerned out of our party, save for Ginger. "I think I see a new business opportunity," I respond.

---

The main hallway's clock tells me it's five thirty-eight as I sling my backpack over my shoulder and say goodbye to Ginger.

"You better be back for dinner," she commands as I start unlocking the front door.

"It's meatball sub night, right?" I reply as the bolt retracts. "I wouldn't think about missing it."

She sighs. "Just...be safe, okay?"

I'm about to turn the handle and get on my way, but instead I first turn to my sister and give a gentle, encouraging hug. "I'll be just fine. If things go bad, I'll come right back."

She smiles up at me and then reaches behind me to push the door open. I shudder a bit as the blast of chilled air springs onto my back.

"Tell Fuse I helped a little bit too," she tells me as I turn back to get on my way.

I look back at her over my shoulder and smile at her warmly. "I'll make sure he knows," I say as I proceed out down the house path. Ginger softly shuts the door behind me, and I turn right onto the main street, towards the trail between Zeplich and Fuse's camp.

Intermittent patrols of army soldiers pass by in sets of two or three. Sometimes they're walking alongside the townsfolk; sometimes they're standing between two buildings watching the ebb and flow of the foot traffic. I peer inside one of the town taverns' windows and see an entire division thoroughly enjoying their evening to the proprietor's reluctant pleasure.

Is this what the cities close to the palace are like? I'd assume yes. If we weren't at odds with the King and the Royal Army, then I'm not sure if we would have minded the army being among us. They seem to fit in alright, even if they are currently trying to expose what we've been up to.

But it's the man they serve I'm more worried about. And why I am so nervous as I turn onto the path leading downhill to the camp. All Cassius needs is for someone, doesn't matter who, to make one mistake. The moment he realizes something's wrong, he's going to do everything he can to capitalize on it and drag us down with it. That indifferent speaking voice, that scarily composed way he acted, those were his weapons of choice. He's waiting, and he's confident he's going to get his opportunity soon.

I pivot down one of the trail's switchbacks, and stop for a moment as I catch sight of a blue cloth tent peeking up from just behind a ridge. That must be the camp Cassius mentioned. The checkpoint. The obstacle. There would probably be a few guards waiting for me somewhere along the path. I can't say what I should expect.

Nevertheless, I need to get past it. I take a deep breath to kill my nervousness, and proceed.

I walk for a little bit longer, and the outpost finally comes into full view on my right side. Plenty of tents have been pitched to house Cassius' men, along with one much larger one, likely the eating area or assembly, and just to the side of it, a medium-sized ornate tent. That'd be where Cassius lives, I assume.

"Hold for the watch!" a soldier barks from in front of me. I rip my attention from the encampment and back to the trail, where two lance-toting soldiers are steadily approaching.

This is it. I remove my backpack and hold it in front of me as the guards finish walking up. "Evening, gentlemen," I greet.

"What brings you all the way out here?" the guard on my left demands.

Well, they're fun. At least I get a small wave out of the one on my right. "Just out on a hike," I explain, pointing to my pack. "I like to eat my dinner out here sometimes. Helps clear the mind."

"I can sympathize," the right guard scoffs as he tosses his lance to his non-dominant hand. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, sir, just to make sure..." he kindly begins to say, motioning at my backpack.

I delay my reaction a bit, then hand him the pack. "Oh. Yeah, go right ahead," I say as he pulls open the main compartment. I know exactly what he sees: two granola bars, a bag with mixed berries and nuts, and a cheese sandwich wrapped in brown butcher's paper. All laid out in an orderly arrangement perfectly covering the upper part of the bag.

"That's a pretty big bag, for someone just out for dinner," the left guard notes.

I thought that'd be mentioned. "Only one I have. I thought I'd get my raincoat and some warm clothes in there as well. You know, be prepared."

The left guard continues to inspect it just long enough for him to lose interest, then nods to his compatriot. The right one seals the backpack off again and returns it.

"Enjoy your night, sir," he approves as I flip the bag onto my back once more. "If you see any Moonbloods or anything suspicious, get back to us as quick as you can, alright?"

"Will do," I comply, and the soldiers move off to the side of the trail, permitting me to continue onward. I fixate onto the trail in front of me, not letting my eyes wander behind me for any reason at all for at least a few hundred feet.

Carefully, I check over my shoulder for the encampment. It's disappeared back over the ridge, and I let out a relieved sigh. I'm clear, and I pick up the pace, speeding towards the camp as quickly as I can. No need in delaying this any longer than I have to, now that I know where Cassius' men are stationed.

A minute or two of running blurs past, and I finally arrive at the camp's improvised wooden gates. As expected, they're shut as dusk slowly creeps its way onto the mountain. But there should be someone on the other side.

"Twitch! It's Jin!" I call out. "You over there?"

No response. Or at least not immediately. "Twitch?" I call for him again.

I hear a yawn. "Comin'," the guard exhaustedly yells, and a few seconds later the gate grinds its way open. Twitch is sleepily leaning against the inside, looking a little disgruntled in addition.

"Were you sleeping on watch again?" I ask him as I pass him and enter the camp's grounds.

"Don't blame me, brother," he defends as he props his spear against himself and stretches his right arm out. "Boring jobs get boring when there's nothing to do."

He takes a look around me as well. "What are you up to anyways? And where's your sister?"

"She's getting dinner ready," I reply, ignoring the fact that I only addressed half of Twitch's questions. "You know where Fuse is?"

"Uh, yeah, I think I saw him at Sereth's. Why?"

I turn towards Sereth's tent just down the main road. "You'll find out in a second. Thanks, Twitch!"

"Why can't I just follow you and see for myself?" he calls after me.

"Because you're on guard duty," I reply, still facing Sereth's. "And don't fall asleep this time!"

I'm certain that wasn't going to happen, but oh well. I have more important things to take care of. I pull back the flap to Sereth's tent and enter, and just like Twitch said, the merchant is leaned on his transaction table, casually talking to Fuse. I slip my backpack off one more time and wave to the two, letting them know I was here.

"Ah, hello again, Jin," Sereth enigmatically greets me. "It is good to see you again."

I raise an eyebrow at him. "You missed me that much, huh?"

Fuse looks down at the carpets on the ground. "We heard about your parents, Jin," he quietly elaborates. "They were really, really good people."

"How did you...?"

"Marcia came by the day right after the attack," Sereth explains. "We held a small memorial in their name."

Silently, I nod back at him. "It's...okay, guys. Ginger and I have been doing alright by ourselves. And we're not about to stop helping you either."

Fuse forces up a small, sorrowful smile in response. "That's good to hear," he slowly states. "We'll do them proud, Jin."

"That's exactly what I'm here for," I reply as I gently set my pack onto the merchant's table.

Sereth's eyes ignite with the promise of trade. "You're here for business?" he asks, kindly but darkly. "We're actually expecting Marcia in a few moments, so maybe we can wait until she arrives?"

"She's not coming," I inform him.

Fuse looks at me curiously, defensively. "Did something happen to her?"

"I'll explain in a second," I state as I open up my backpack and clear off the top layer of items, the nuts, the granola, the butcher paper. I motion for the two Moonbloods to look inside. "First off, is this what you needed?"

Fuse peers inside first, and looks shocked by the pack's contents. Sereth also ventures a peek, and his reaction is more controlled. Expected, but still well controlled.

"Those are the foodstuffs, aren't they?" Fuse asks for confirmation.

"That's certainly what they appear like," Sereth chimes in.

Fuse looks back at me, still shocked by what I had just smuggled past the army. "Jin, how did you do this? Does Marcia know what's going on?"

I scratch the back of my head. "Well, it's kind of a long story," I admit.

Fuse shrugs and hops up onto Sereth's table as the merchant tugs the bag off of it and puts it to the side. "Better start telling it then," he encourages.

"Yes, indeed," Sereth agrees, rubbing his hands together. "What has happened since the last time we saw each other?"