It'd been a long time since Ferris had been stalked through the Boroughs. She was such a reckless kid back then, never completely trusting anyone and unable to be trusted in-turn. There were a number of times Ferris had tried running away with her sister only to get caught within a few, short hours. She'd grown since. Now, she was much more subtle with her tricks and schemes.
"Honestly, they're not even trying," Ciara murmured next to her as they walked through the market. She turned her head to watch the edge of a street corner three buildings behind them.
"Oh, hush. Not everyone can be as good as yours truly," Ferris replied, "Now don't look at them. You'll scare them off."
"I will not!"
"You're making that evil face."
"Remind me again: Who taught me how to make it?"
Ferris chuckled, stopping in front of an apple cart. Over four years had passed since she'd been brought to the Arnaud Mages' Guild, set within the heart of the Boroughs. She was a young woman now. In all that time, for all her stubbornness, she'd admittedly grown fond of this place and its people.
The Guildmaster, Tobius, was good to his word. While he gave her no choice but to stay, he also never forced her jump across time. His only real demand was that she keep up with her studies under Madame Valda, the head of all of the crimson mages within the guild and the seers among them. There were times when he still frightened her, if she or any of the other apprentices ever stepped too far out of line; however, she found him to be a fair leader—and even fairly relaxed overall.
Most of her other teachers were similar. Avalbanshee, who led the cyan mages, still came across like a princess in a fairytale, constant in both grace and beauty… At least until she got snapped. Nevertheless, she had countless admirers and was beloved by the community. Lamont—or Monty, as Ferris inevitably gave in to calling him—led the yellow mages and acted like a loud, gruff uncle toward the students under him. Those he cared for were always met with a wide smile. Those who went against his strong sense of morality were met with his ire. The leader of the orange mages had a flair for the dramatic. The leader of the violet mages was well-intentioned, if hard to get along with. The leader of the green mages was overly fascinated with poisons and all things macabre. Each of them was wonderful and remarkable in their own right—with Madame Valda, her master, being the most remarkable of them all in her eyes.
Ferris examined the bright, crisp fruits before plucking one to test its firm shape. Ebott was in the middle into her favorite season, autumn. Now was the time for cider to be made with the last harvest as those apples still on their branches grew tart from the approaching cold months.
"Do you think we should get some for Snickerdoodle?"
Ciara set her hands on her hips, "Bribing her with fruit isn't going to make her make save you any extra sweets…
Ferris loved the local bakery's offerings. Doggie biscuits, woofers, pupkin pies, fidoughnuts… Sadly, most of the Boroughs loved them too and the place was often sold out before she ever finished her work for the day. Snickerdoodle also had a strict first-come, first-served policy that she didn't stray from: She rarely set any of her goods aside for anyone.
"I don't understand why you visit that bakery so often," her sister continued, "She sheds!"
"You barely tried her desserts."
"I barely missed swallowing a clump of fur."
It really was an exaggeration on Ciara's part—all caused by one, unfortunate accident that happened after they'd already visited the bakery a handful of occasions. Sadly, it was just the sort of event that children didn't easily get over. Ferris never tried all that hard for her to change her mind. If anything, she was glad Ciara acted picky sometimes. It was a clear sign of her growing up well.
Ciara was shorter than Ferris was at her age, dressed in a long, dark purple tunic with a brass trim. Good food had filled out her scrawny frame. Plenty of rest in a warm bed had cleared the dark shadows under her eyes, which were still as large and as round as they were when she was little. She was a tiny, but healthy young lady. Moreover, Ciara was starting to find her voice again after all the tragedy that kept her silent to all except her older sister.
If that wasn't worth staying in the Boroughs, then Ferris didn't know what was.
She bought some apples anyway. Their guild membership came with room and board and Valda took guardianship of them both, but it was always nice to buy something for themselves once in a while. There was always a constant dread of losing this peace they'd obtained, along with a need or independence to avoid just that. Today was one of those days where the pair took a break from guild and enjoyed what the town had to offer.
The young woman reached over to pat the youngest's head, the latter then brushing her hand away with a look of embarrassment. Even her little sister was busy studying as a mage now. Madame Valda once explained that Ciara had the potential to become a seer as well; however, rather than focus on many spells, Ciara stuck to the guild's laboratory to work on potions instead. Maybe she was following a similar path to their parents'. Ferris was proud of her either way.
At last, it happened. There was a faint tug at Ferris' belt. The instant she felt it, she spun around and latched onto the small arm returning for her purse. A surprised yelp leapt out of quivering lips.
She'd caught a young thief; a lapine boy that couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old. He had aqua fur and wore a loose shirt with the customary stripe typical for children in the Boroughs as well as the Monster Kingdom. Unable to break away—both from her grip and the intense stare behind her crimson gaze—he started sniveling. She could feel him tremble.
Another small bunny with fur as pale a yellow as a spring chick's, carrying a toddler on her back, rushed toward them from where they'd been hiding. She looked up and begged the young woman desperately, "Please, Miss Mage! I-it was just a mistake! My brother didn't mean it!"
"Didn't mean it…?" she asked the children in a calm, dangerously low tone with a tilt of her head. She regarded the trio like a lioness her choice of wounded prey. Ciara stepped closer to her side in support, her eyes equally as piercing. "You 'didn't mean' to follow us through the streets, sneak behind me, and try to take what's mine?"
The pressure was suffocating. Frightened tears of despair filled their eyes and even the toddler—much too young to even understand the situation—began to wimper. With no excuse, the girl bowed her head. Her crying turned to hysterics, "He didn't mean it! He didn't mean it!"
She'd done enough. Ferris let the boy go so suddenly that he fell back on his rear. She continued to glare at their trembling forms, dismissing the children as though they were vermin, "Go, before you can ruin my day any further and I actually give you something to cry about. Lucky for you, I don't enjoy cleaning up dust-bunnies."
They couldn't have scrambled to their feet to get away fast enough. She knew the type. Amateurs. They wouldn't try pickpocketing anyone else for a while.
"I don't think I know their names," she said.
"They're Barley and Moppet's kids," Ciara replied, "That family that moved here last spring."
"Ah," Ferris crossed her arms, "I remember. I heard the harvest wasn't kind to them."
"Their parents won't ask for help. I think they're too proud for it."
"Proud or not, that's going to cost them. Tell—"
"The Guildmaster, I know. I'll see him for you."
A steady tenor interrupted their conversation, "You're too cruel, Ferris."
An azure fire-monster that approached them with a knowing smirk. His name was Blaze; partner to the fox familiar, stablemaster for the Guild, and one of four wild mages that saw over most of the ceremonies within the Boroughs. Out of the group, he was the most rational, able to keep the others grounded when the needed arose.
"You should be kinder to kids. Everyone needs a little mercy sometimes."
"It's not a mercy to anyone to let them get away with a crime just because life gets difficult," Ferris answered, never losing her steely expression, "Not for the people they'd steal from, not for them if someone chops off their hands for it one day."
"Right. You, of all people, know best…" Blaze raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin only widening, "And caught your plot to get them some real help from the sidelines, so there's no need to play the devil for me too."
She refused to respond to that, changing the subject. She had a bad feeling about why he wanted to talk to her. "I'm not going to play the Scorched Magician this year, Blaze. Find someone else."
It was a vital role for the Boroughs' annual Wildfire Festival, which rapidly approached. The festival was made after a legend about a massive wildfire that devastated the area over the course of several days. No one knows who the Scorched Magician was other than that they were human, because they wielded a magical staff. Bravely charging into the flames and casting a wide spell over the land, they had gained control of the wildfire and prevented it from destroying the Boroughs and its neighbors.
Each autumn, an intentional wildfire was set to burn away the build-up off fallen leaves and dry underbrush. With this, the Boroughs reenacted that fateful event while also hosting a small prelude to the harvest celebrations that followed afterward. There were other mages that played a part in said reenactment, but whoever played the Scorched Magician naturally had the biggest responsibility. It was a part only meant for an adept magic-user.
Ferris was pushed into the role the previous year. The town was eager to get someone new to do it and Madame Valda wanted to test how far she'd come in her apprenticeship. It was the most stressful challenge she'd been given yet. Besides that, she didn't enjoy being the center of attention.
Although Ciara's fear of fire was getting better, Ferris was also upset that she never got to share in the festivities. So far, it'd just been too much for her—and much too similar to the reality that they had gone through. If Ciara had any intention of joining the festivities this year, then Ferris wanted to be by her side.
"Just get Sil to do it!" she told Blaze when he tried to convince her.
"She's done it six times already and told me we needed someone else!" He waved his hands outward, tiny sparks flickering with exasperation. "She did it the last two years before you too…"
Ferris wasn't having it. "Then Iva. She has more experience with fire magic than I do anyway."
"Yes, and there's a good chance she'd end up igniting half the Boroughs in her enthusiasm."
He actually had a point there…
She groaned, "Then you do it—I don't care. I'm sure you all can figure something out, but Ciara and I will be late to supper if we don't go soon."
Clutching her own purse in her hands, her sister suddenly made an awkward expression. She looked away apologetically, "I can't today. Since I'm still working on my lessons, I just tagged along to pick up ingredients. I was going to tell you: I just thought we'd be walking around for a while longer."
Now that was a surprise. No matter how busy her apprenticeship became or how many lessons were added to Ciara's own schedule, they strived to make time for each other. This was still the same girl who crawled into bed despite having one of her own, but…
Ferris felt a pang of cheer and sadness. Her little sister was really growing up.
"It's fine," she shrugged. There was no reason for Ciara to feel guilty. "I know how it is—and I can still go for a few drinks on my own. I'll see you later tonight."
Ferris kissed her forehead and Ciara offered to take the apples back herself. After a bit more arguing, the young woman was able to tear herself away from Blaze and continue her walk further into town.
The sun had dipped halfway below the horizon when she arrived at the local tavern. Blue Moon's Chalice, or just Blue Moon's, was a special place. The usual patrons were as rowdy as they could come. Eventually, someone would be dancing on the tables. It didn't matter who you were, because everybody needed a warm meal and strong booze once in a while. It didn't matter how much money you had, because someone would offer to buy you a drink if only so you wouldn't spoil the mood.
In other words, it was a kind of oasis for many and a vignette on life in the Boroughs as a whole for newcomers. Here, people took care of their own. So long as strangers didn't make trouble or run their mouths more than necessary, they were welcome.
Normally, Ferris and Ciara would indulge in a visit at least once a month. The food was good and the matron had taken a fast liking to them—granted, she loved the company of anyone that could clean their plate. As she walked in, Ferris was instantly greeted by a full-bodied smell and a few cheers from those at the bar.
The tavernkeeper, Gourdita, was a vegetoid-type monster with a squash-like form. It was impossible for Ferris to guess how old she was and she didn't want to ask, but she always assumed the matron to be in her middle years. A dark mouth split with glee to reveal a set of long fangs, "Welcome back, child! Don't stand there doorway—get yourself a seat. Where's your sister?"
Ferris slid into her usual chair in one corner of the room, "Not coming."
"Not coming?! Well, she'll miss out on a new dish I've just practiced. You like crayfish, don't you? There's no way I could get my vines on any lobster, but I wanted to try something a bit fancy and had to make do."
The young woman hid a trickle of concern with a polite nod. Gourdita really was a good cook, but she kept to a very strict rule. Like most taverns, she never cooked more than a dish of the day. Unlike others, however, she never stuck to a common menu. Usually, you could expect sausages or a basic stew, but there were days like this one where she wanted to get a little more… creative. Those were hit or miss—and if you ordered it, Gourdita would make sure that you ate it.
If this was why her little sister hadn't joined her, then Ferris would have to play some mischief back later.
"What are you drinking?"
"Mulled wine, if you have it."
In only a couple minutes, her meal was brought out. Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as she feared. Large, boiled crayfish sliced open; the meat cut into cubes and lightly sprinkled with some kind of garnish; paired with a bed of greens, pine nuts, and a small cup of melted butter.
She had only just started to relax when a tall figure plopped into the seat across from her. Ferris scowled; her pretty nice day sharply gone sour. Although she'd learned to get along with most of the people in the Boroughs, there was one individual she could never like.
Castellar had also grown up well, despite betraying Arnaud's mages and effectively being kept as a hostage since. For the first few weeks after Ferris and Ciara were brought to the Boroughs, she'd hadn't seen him. Just when she'd started to think he might've been secretly executed, Tobius brought him to the Guild and pretended as though nothing had happened.
"I just finished writing to his father to inform him that Castellar would be extending his apprenticeship with us," the Guildmaster had explained with a firm grip on the skeleton's shoulder. "Isn't it good to already know someone so close to your age? You can help with each other's studies."
They never helped each other, not without being forced to. For all these years, the pair had strived to live as though the other was dead. She had no idea what Castellar was thinking by breaking that cycle now.
She hated him so much. She hated his arrogance and lying tongue. She hated his condescending voice. She hated that he shot up a head taller than her without so much as a warning.
"What will you be having, Castellar?" the tavernkeeper asked when she noticed him sit down.
He waved his hand, "No food for me, Gourdita, but if you would, fetch me a cup of mulled wine as well."
"By all means, just invite yourself," Ferris sighed loudly, leaning forward to take a bite, "Heaven knows hardly anyone in the Boroughs will go out of their way to ask for your company."
She averted his gaze as Castellar gave her a long look. Several seconds passed before anything more was said between them. He glanced sideways to call back to Gourdita as she returned to the bar, "On second thought, fetch me your strongest wine. I think I have a headache coming on."
A few patrons snickered. For however much they loathed each other, the townsfolk loved the entertainment Ferris and Castellar's rivalry brought them.
He gave her a harsh look, "Believe me, I don't want to be with you either, but I can at least show the decency to wait for you to finish your meal."
Ferris pointed her fork at him, "Then if you have anything important to say, say it now rather than waste both our times."
"Tobius called for us."
She paused, the slightly bitter leaves turned bland on her tongue. That would explain it: He was playing the messenger. As she got older and could afford to take on more work, the Guildmaster would personally send tasks her way every now and then. However, likely because of their low ranking and that he knew she wouldn't agree to it, he'd never paired her with Castellar on a job before.
"That doesn't keep you from sitting somewhere else," she reminded Castellar, even as Gourdita returned with his own drink.
Though he usually kept an air of dignity about him, hearing that, he sank deeper into his chair.
Tch! The young woman tried to focus on the food, "He must have insisted you fetch me, considering how you're digging your heels in. Does this whole thing make you nervous?"
He raised a brow as well as a cup, "No. Why?"
"Because that's not wine you're drinking; that's my butter."
Given the flustered face he made next, he must've already swallowed some. He glared at her, unable to react in a way that wouldn't cause a bigger scene. A small feeling of victory relieved some of her annoyance.
The summons actually worried her too. If Tobius simply needed the young mages for a job, he would've mentioned it to their teachers or made an announcement. What could he want? she wondered. Their feud hadn't caused any messes either—not lately—so to call just the two of them out of the blue… She didn't like it. Not one bit.