It was a strange feeling, doing something completely normal when her life had been nothing but chaos for so long. Nevertheless, the needle and thread Ferris had been given felt right at home in her grip. Her hands hadn't forgotten what her mind nearly had, making stitch after stitch into the old, worn fabric she was piecing back together.
Of course, she much rather would've liked to have been on her feet working on something else, but that just wasn't an option with the shape she was in. Durga had been true to her word about putting them to work. After hardly any rest, Castellar was dragged off someplace by a burly batch of company while Ferris and Ciara were given a seemingly endless supply of laundry to wash and mend.
Since the two sisters didn't want to be separated—after some arguing—they were allowed to work together outside of the tent, beside the underground stream. That's how, for three days straight, Ferris found herself sitting on a rock with her wounded leg outstretched in front of her and a myriad of curious eyes aimed at her back. Every now and then, some smug-looking adult would swagger over with another load for them to tend to just before they could finish off the last set of clothes. A brave child would sit a while to ask about the outside world or try to get the girls to play with them before their friends or parents called them away. One of the more sympathetic members of the community would stop to check on them, asking them if they were hungry or thirsty, if the work was too much, or if Ferris' leg was alright.
It was strange. Not necessarily unpleasant, but strange. Ferris expected their suspicious glares and ugly looks; however, the fact that they weren't openly hostile and even spoke with them casually was rattling. They treated the two sisters as outsiders, yes, but also as just two young girls.
It'd been a long time since anyone had treated them that way. For over a year, even in Mollendale, all anyone had ever looked at them with was grim expectation. They were urchins destined to die on the streets, orphans that no one would remember or care for if they were bought and sold, troublemakers who only knew how to steal to get by. Every glance directed their way only held pity, greed, or contempt.
Here, they were just… children. And it was hard to feel comfortable with being looked at as a child again. It wasn't even something Ciara could easily accept, as she stayed as quiet as she always was and refused every chance of a break in order to stay by her sister's side.
Of all the people that approached them, Ferris' favorite by far was Kobalt. Not just because she felt comfortable with him after their initial meeting, or because he was the one to always bring them their meals: He reminded her a lot of the friends she used to have in her hometown. He was hardworking, yet relaxed, and could strike up easily conversation about nothing in-particular. Sometimes, he'd just sit with them in silence, resting by the water before he had to run off on his own tasks.
That day, he'd brought an instrument along with their supper. It was an old cittern that looked like it had been dropped at some point, though it played just fine. Kobalt didn't ask the sisters if they wanted to hear it or not, but kept a bit more distance than usual as if he was ready to make an apology if it disturbed them. Both girls were silent, listening to his modest strumming and singing. Ferris knew a good number of the tunes he played, but only mouthed along to one: A call-and-response.
"I saw a field
Of golden flowers
That echoed of
The twilight hours,
'Tween dawn and dusk,
The start and end,
I'll give you one to hold
Until we meet again."
Still, if you wake
And I'm not there,
Please don't cry,
Don't cry, my dear,
For every bloom
At night may close,
But then opens
When morning comes."
Let it come, let it come,
Come sunrise,
Let it come, let it come,
Come sunrise…"
Most people believed that the first speaker was a soldier, sent to fight off Ebott's invaders. They sang not only to console the loved one they left behind, but out of a love for Ebott itself—which is why they brought up the golden glowers that grew across the land. The flowers were enjoyed by many people across both Kingdoms, for teas, and treats, and decorations. For many people who lived under the Mt. Ebott, they symbolized home.
"I saw that field
Of golden flowers
That echoed of
The twilight hours,
I'm waiting here,
Right here for you,
So I might give
One back to you."
So please come home,
Come safe and well,
And here among
The blooms we'll dwell,
Though night may fall
And moon may rise,
I'll hold out for dawn
Watching the skies."
Let it come, let it come,
Come sunrise,
Let it come, let it come,
Come sunrise…"
The second speaker was someone left behind. While the first made no promise of their return, the second urged them to do so nonetheless. The refrain, "Let it come, let it come, sunrise," was a wish for the other person to find safety and happiness after whatever trouble had passed.
"You know it?" Kobalt asked Ferris, and then had to ask again because Ferris was so deep in her own thoughts.
"Who doesn't?"
Human or Monster, everyone sang it. Ebott's Two Kingdoms were rich in resources. That, combined with how much magic flowed through the land, made them a large target to their neighbors. Fending off centuries of invasions was one of the few things that kept an unsteady peace between their kinds. According to her elders, outside attacks had greatly lessened over the past decades, but, well… That did nothing for the in-fighting under the mountain.
It must've been nice, to be so distant from it all that he could smile at her for their having that one, bittersweet song in-common… Oddly enough, she smiled back.
Kobalt began another one of his conversations that went nowhere, "Do you like to sing?"
She waved her hand at him, "You wouldn't like me to sing."
"Why not?"
"Because, growing up, I couldn't sing this one a lullaby," she pointed a thumb at Ciara, "without her bursting into tears."
Two reactions erupted at once. Her usually quiet sibling balked, throwing herself over Ferris' lap, yelling rejections and insisting that she loved it when they sang together. Kobalt's smile melted into warm laughter. Again, a sudden pang gnawed at Ferris' chest and she felt uneasy.
A stark white figure in the distance caught her eye. It was Castellar, staring right back at them with a mass of logs strapped to his back. It looked as though he and the group escorting him had just returned to the hideaway. That he'd stopped in his tracks to look at them after they'd caused a ruckus. Overall, his expression was unreadable. He glanced between Kobalt and Ferris, then glowered at her before one of the other guards dragged him away again.
It was probably his way of telling her not to get too comfortable here. Well, she knew that. So long as the group kept their word, they'd be leaving soon enough.
However, for not the first time, Ferris wondered if this wasn't such a bad spot to save her place in time. One of the golden stars wasn't far from the camp. She wasn't so cripple that she couldn't excuse herself for the few minutes it would take to reach it and sneak back to her seat by the water.
Moreover, if something went wrong or if Castellar did turn out to be untrustworthy, it didn't seem altogether impossible now to use the bunch runaways as a shield and hide with them for a while. Maybe they wouldn't want an extra pair of mouths to feed, but she had already shown that she could work and obey orders. They seemed good-natured enough and Kobalt at least seemed to like her. Even if it meant throwing away her chances of being a mage, Ferris didn't think she'd mind staying here a while. The only trick would be proving that she and Ciara were worth keeping around despite whatever threats Castellar might throw the group's way…
Of course though, it was only a back-up plan. The girl sighed through her nose, wishing that she already knew how to control her magic as a seer. If she did, then maybe there wouldn't be a need to second-guess herself every time and try every option through trial-and-error: Instead of dying, she could just predict which of her choices would be the best to make…
Ferris looked at the cluster of tents to her back. There wasn't much of a crowd, so she could observe each of the residents easily. Little kids chasing each other around the ramshackle homes. Mothers prattling among themselves before returning to their work in-doors. A man dozing by the community's small cattle pen. Humans and Monsters living as if nothing stood between them and that the conflicts that existed just beyond their little world were only bad memories.
Would the Boroughs and the guild be anything like this? It seemed too good to be true. It was one thing for a few families that simply wanted to live their lives to unite under an olive branch: It was another to enforce peace over a large territory to establish a neutral ground between clashing civilizations. Did the mages there really have that much authority, or was the Boroughs so used to its independence that they didn't feel particularly aligned to either kingdom?
Ferris realized that she'd focused so much on simply the idea of being a mage and where she would work that she hadn't put as much thought into what kind of place she and Ciara would live in or what type of people would be there. Before, anywhere that paid well and gave her a bit of security was enough… As they drew closer to their destination though, the reality of settling into a new home dawned on her.
A moment later, Castellar reappeared without his burden of logs and joined them. Kobalt tried to invite him into the conversation, but the skeleton wasn't so receptive. He barely gave the other boy more than a curt word or two. The young woman pursed her lips. Surely not everyone in the Boroughs could be as obnoxious as you are… she mused.
As if he could hear her thoughts, Castellar shot her another stern look of his own. Somehow, they still managed to challenge and bicker with each other without making a sound.
"Are you this amicable with all your guests?" he asked Kobalt suddenly.
The young guard sat a little straighter in his seat, caught off by the remark. He rubbed the back of his head bashfully, "It's not like we get too many 'guests' here—certainly not around our age—is it? I gotta say, I'm jealous of you three. It must be nice to get to live in the Boroughs."
Ferris raised a brow, "Have you never left this place?"
"I've been to a small village nearby, not much else. We try to keep to ourselves here, since it's safer that way, and not everywhere's welcoming." The hybrid placed his instrument down beside him. "I'd like to go to the Boroughs someday myself, just to see it. If I do, maybe we'll see each other again."
She doubted it. She gave him a polite grin anyway, "Be sure to find us if you visit then."
"Promise on a golden flower," he teased, and then quickly excused himself. The gold flecks across his cheeks appeared to shimmer brighter as his blue skin darkened. Ferris watched him go, shaking her head in amusement.
Meanwhile, Castellar continued to glare at her.
Ferris returned the look with a smug glance, propping herself up, "What? He's their leader's son. It's better to be friendly."
"Being friendly isn't exactly one of your virtues. Do I have to worry about you picking someone's pocket and setting this entire camp against us?"
"From the looks of this bunch, I'll consider us lucky if we get back everything we came here with." It wasn't an insult, but an observation. Even if the group of runaways had been kind to enough to offer shelter, it was unlikely that they were getting by on kindness alone. It took resources to maintain a place like this, and Ferris wouldn't have been surprised if they took some of those resources from other would-be trespassers.
Castellar folded his arms across his chest, "If they take anything, they won't take much. Remember that they don't want to make enemies of us either."
It wasn't reassuring. Maybe Castellar wouldn't notice if a bit of food or an extra tool went missing, but Ferris was worried about her own handful of belongings.