"Monster!"
Heads turned and looked down the road to where the cry of alarm came from. A man, eyes wide and mouth agape, stood and pointed a trembling finger up towards Zac. Sett responded quickly. He brought the oxen to a stop and leapt down from the driver's seat to approach the man.
"Hey!" he called out.
"What is that thing?" the trembling man demanded.
"Oh, him?" Sett replied, trying to keep as casual a tone as possible, "that's just Zac."
"What?"
"Zac, that's his name."
Sett turned and waved up at the creature in question. Zac looked down at him with (what Sett assumed was) a look of concern on his face. He had stopped stretching towards the ocean and was now pulling in on himself, making his form shorter and denser.
"Come on down, Zac," Sett called out, "introduce yourself."
Zac wanted nothing more than to turn into a puddling and slink away into some pipe, but that was not an option. He dropped down from the boulder and his feet spread out as he landed on the ground, only to quickly regain their shape as he took a step. Slowly, so as to not unnerve the man further, he approached.
But it did not matter how slowly Zac moved, the man's reaction would be the same. He cowered behind Sett.
"You, you're enormous. Scare it away."
"Uh, no," Sett replied, "not happenin.' I've got a better idea," he reached back and placed a firm grip on the man's shoulder and gave him a forcefully encouraging shove forward, "why don't we all say 'hello' and calm down a bit? Nothin' to overact about."
If Sett realized that the man was digging his heels into the dirt, he didn't acknowledge it, but just kept walking towards Zac until they were an arm's length from each other.
"Now see, this is Zac," Sett introduced, "he looks a bit odd but he ain't gonna hurt ya.' Got it?"
The Ionian opened his mouth but the only sound that came from it was a wavering sigh.
Zac didn't need to look at the man to know he was terrified. He could feel it rolling off his body and sending ripples of fear through his own mind. It was a sensation Zac was used to receiving from others.
"Sett," Zac said in a calm, low tone, "he doesn't need to shake my hand if he doesn't want to."
Sett, who had been trying to not so subtly direct the stranger's hand outwards into a shaking position, looked to Zac.
"You sure?"
"Yes. I will not be offended."
Sett released the man's hand and he withdrew it back to himself in a flash. Even still, Sett stood behind the man to prevent him from backing away.
"He doesn't want to be near me," Zac said, "please let him go. I don't want to cause trouble."
"Me neither," the man said, finally managing to squeak out a few words.
"Alright," Sett said with a huff, "I don't want no trouble either. It's why I'm tryin' to have this nice, friendly interaction. I don't want nobody to go makin' a fuss about you, raisin' alarms when none need raisin.' You understand, right?"
Though he spoke to Zac, Sett's eyes were on the stranger as he spoke.
"I understand," he answered hastily.
"Good. Glad to hear it," Sett gave the man a clap on the shoulder, "now on your way. Spirits guide you and all that."
With legs still shaking, the traveler took several large steps back from Sett and Zac before giving the briefest of nods and hurrying away, slowing only for a moment for his eyes to pass warily over the other Zaunites with their foreign dress and exotic augmentations.
When he was out of sight, Zac spoke.
"You didn't need to do that," he said.
"I wanted to," Sett answered.
"I'm used to people being afraid of me. I can be very alarming to see if you aren't expecting me."
"Even if it doesn't bother ya' for people to be frightened by you I still wanted to speak. You see, it's one thing if just one guy is worried 'bout you, but another if he goes and makes a whole village worried. You don't got any tubes to go hidin' in here in Ionia, big guy and I don't think you want an angry mob to come searchin' for you neither."
"No, I do not."
"Just lookin' out for us."
Zac looked down the road in the direction the man fled and then back to the cart.
"Should I go back in the chem-cask?" he asked, "Would that be easier for everyone until we get to your home?"
"No, you don't gotta go back. In fact, if you insist that you go back just cause we meet some other frightened fellow, I'll break it."
"Please don't do that. Glass shards are painful when embedded in the skin."
"Oh trust me, I know. Also, why did you assume I'd just punch it?"
"You punch very hard."
With a smirk, Sett looked down at his hands and flexed them.
"I do," he said, "but I'm not an idiot. Not going to willingly damage my best feature if I can help it. Ya' know, some people say that my looks are my best feature, but they aren't what made me successful. I generally don't win my fights by headbuttin' my opponents."
"Mom always said that nobody wins in a headbutt."
"Did that apply to you too?"
"Not really. They don't hurt at all. I think mom was just upset that one time I headbutted a guy and got a clump of his hair stuck in me. It took days to pull it all out."
"You, with hair? Wish I could have seen that."
"It wasn't very flattering."
Sett let out a chuckle.
"All right, big guy. We should get movin' again. No more mopin.' I want you to stay out of that cask. You're a guest here, got it? Act like you're welcome."
"I will."
Together they walked back towards the cart.
"Besides," Sett added as he climbed back into the driver's seat, "I think you will like our next stop. I'm meetin' up with another Zaunite."
The group continued on their journey with the same leisurely pace as they had been. There were several more encounters with startled travelers, most of which played out the same way: alarm towards Zac, Sett assuring them that he was no danger (with varying degrees of success), and both parties moving on feeling a little more awkward for the encounter. Even with Sett's promise to smash the chem-cask, Zac had more than once considered trying to ooze back into it, a thought that became all the more tempting as a little village came into view.
It was another settlement along the coast, though this one was much quieter. The cove it rested in was shallow, allowing only smaller boats that were used for day fishing and trips among the archipelago to moor there rather than the larger vessels needed to reach the main land. There were only two main roads, running parallel to each other in this village and a scattering of stalls set up around the docks, the hub of this quaint place. A scattering of homes fanned out from the cluster of buildings, surrounded by gardens or pens to hold animals. It was towards one of these buildings, much to Zac's relief, that they were traveling.
The Zaunites peered into every yard they passed, their faces a mixture of envy and curiosity. Such an abundance of space and greenery was something usually only available for the wealthiest of their home city, but it looked as though everyone in this village had at least a little yard to call their own. Zac had difficultly identifying the plants growing in most of them until they came upon a garden with some medicinal plants he had seen grown in cultivars before. He looked up and, much to his surprise saw a sign written in Piltovan and Ionian planted in the ground.
"Molly's Medicine, healing for scrapes to broken bones."
"A doctor?" Zac asked as he looked at the sign.
"Yeah," Sett nodded, "I've got my own back at the pit, so I don't usually send my fighters out here, but I hear she's pretty good at what she does. Her daughter is the one who helped get you all outta Zaun. Makin' a delivery for he ma is how I'm payin' her back."
The oxen let out a snort as they came to a stop.
"Alright," Sett called out, "those crates there, unload them and bring them up."
He then went up and knocked on the door to the house. As Sett waited by the door, Zac moved to help the other Zaunite unload the cart.
"I can take that," he offered, reaching down to help Izzy pick up a crate as he did.
"I've got it," the boy insisted, "you don't need to worry about me."
He gave Zac a confident smile but his voice was strained as he moved the heavy crate.
"Okay, but if you need help, let me know."
"Sure thing. Thanks Zac."
"Don't take it personally," Mairead said as soon as he son was out of earshot, "he always wants to do things himself. He doesn't want to be a burden."
"I'm not offended," Zac replied, effortlessly lifting one of the crates as he spoke, "I just enjoy helping people."
With the crate under arm, he walked up the path to where Sett was talking with a woman, most likely the Molly mentioned on the sign, in the doorway. In an instant, Zac recognized her as another Zaunite. He could hear the Sump in her voice, he cheeks and tips of her ears were the red of someone who sunburnt easily after years below the Gray, and she wore a necklace made of colored glass beads and miscellaneous bits of scrap metal such as washers, tiny cogs, and nuts hanging from chains. It was a popular accessory for the common people of Zaun.
The woman pushed herself up to her tip toes and peeked over Sett's shoulder at the people brining the boxes.
"We can keep talking inside," she said to Sett before addressing the others in Piltovan, "come inside and line those up against the wall please. No stacking them. Thank you, thank you," she turned from the group and called back into the house, "Ken, we have visitors. Don't be alarmed. I'm inviting them in for a snack."
"I appreciate the offer," Sett said, "but I was hopin' to get back to my own place tonight, so we were just gonna drop our stuff and go."
Molly nodded and called into the house again.
"Actually, no snacks, just a little cup of tea," she said before turning back to Sett, "you will at least stay for that, right?"
"Yeah, alright., we can stay for a cup of tea, but nothin' else. Only so much daylight left."
Molly stepped aside and motioned for the others to enter.
"Please, come in. Let Molly be your host even if only for a moment."
One by one, everyone filed into the house, taking care not to bump the crates against the doorway. Molly nodded in approval as the crates moved past her. Her eyes also looked over the augmentations of Sett's new hires and a small smile appeared on her face.
Zac wondered if her seeing them was making her nostalgic for her old home or was she smiling because she was happy to away from a place that caused so many to need replacement limbs. Either way, he knew he mood was about to change when saw him, so he prepared himself for another encounter like those he had on the road earlier that day. However, that did not happen. She looked up at him and chuckled. It was a nervous chuckle, but a chuckle none the less, and while there was nervousness, Zac didn't feel the same level of fear coming from her as he had felt coming from the Ionians earlier that day.
"Ho ho," Molly said, "you're really real then? The slime creature from the Sump? I had heard the stories. Always knew you were real. I've seen strange enough things in that city that believe that some chems gained a life of their own. Just didn't think I would ever meet those chems. But now that I am, what do I call you?"
"My name is Zac. It is nice to meet you."
"Zac. Interesting to meet you. My name's Molly. I'd shake your hand, but you've got them full right now. Come inside and put that crate down."
"I will, thank you," he said with a nod as he ducked down his head, making sure the long tendril that trailed above it would not bump the roof when he entered.
He couldn't be sure if this was what a traditional Ionian home looked like, as he had never been invited into one before, but he had a feeling that this one was an exception. Inside, the house was divided in two, with one part acting as a place to treat patients and the rest being Molly's home. Even from standing in the entryway, he could see pieces of equipment brought over from Zaun; small clockwork devices, a few pieces of furniture made in Zaunite fashion, a pair of chem-lamps, and a chem-powered ice box.
Most interesting though, was the man sitting at the table, finishing peeling some root vegetable. He was quite different from any other human Zac had seen that day, if he even were human because while Zac did not know everything about humans, he was pretty sure none of them grew long, slender, pink tails.
The man had an angular face with a long slender nose that was a soft pink at the very tip, but in contrast to these thin features, his ears were large and rounded, like those of a mouse. Much like Sett's ears, Ken's were also covered in a fine fur that matched the color of his hair, which was the color of tilled soil. His eyes were an even darker shade of brown, with almost no white visible on them, though they possessed a sparkle to them like the mischievous glint of youth.
"Hello," he said, his voice soft like the sound of wind over a field of grain, "thank you for your help with the crates. Today was a stiff day, otherwise I would have gone and done it myself."
As he spoke, Zac could see that his canine teeth were more pronounced than a human's would be.
Ken looked to his side and reached for a carved cane with his slender claw-tipped fingers and stood upon legs that were bent in a way that no human's could. It was then that Zac recalled what people like this were called; Vastaya.
"Ah, the merchant ships would never take me back in this state," Ken continued to speak, "but if they won't let me be a merchant, maybe I will try my luck as a pi-RAT, huh?"
A wily smile on his face, Ken at last looked up at the guests to see the reactions to his joke on their faces. Nobody was laughing.
"Was my emphasis off? My Piltovan is a little rusty. Did I use the right word? Did I – OH!"
His gaze at last came to rest on Zac. Shock rushed away his previous expression as he clutched his cane and stumbled back a pace.
"Molly dear," he squeaked, "who is this?"
"My name is Zac," he said in as gentle a tone as he could.
The others in the room could have been doing cartwheels and Ken would not have noticed. His dark eyes were fixated on Zac.
"Don't mind him, dear," Molly said as she briefly stuck her head into the room, "Sett assures me he's quite peaceful."
Zac nodded.
"Oh, he is, is?" Ken said, his partner's words not doing much to ease his concern.
"I try to be when I can," Zac said.
"He is," Molly reassured, "and do you think Moyna would have let him come here if he would be a danger to us?"
That comment at least did seem to ease his concerns.
"No," Ken sighed, "no, you're right. She wouldn't."
"Zac," Mairead spoke up, "maybe you could help him with the tea?"
"I can help if you would like me to," Zac offered the Vastayan.
"I would appreciate that," he answered, "I'll show you where we keep the cups."
Zac followed after the man, sensing that, even if only a little, his nervousness was beginning to dissipate.
While Ken went to gather cups for tea, Molly knelt down next to the crates and opened one up.
"Now let's check the goods," she said in a sing-song tone.
The inside of the crate was packed with an odd assortment of bottles, jar, and vials, all wrapped in scraps of cloth and shredded newspapers; the mish-mash of packaging, perfectly reflecting the varying degrees of legality in which they were obtained. There were jars of different supplements for vitamin deficient diets, disinfectants, chem-med antibiotics, a vial containing a potent numbing agent, a box labeled "Dad's Meds," a tried and true sore throat remedy that promised its herbs were grown in cultivar's with the purest air, and a wine bottle that had its label crossed off an written over.
" Tenti Tetinis Rust Meds"
Another of the crates was similarly stocked, but the third Molly opened contained items of a more personal nature. They were a collection of things clearly meant to ease a homesick soul; a book of Piltovan poetry, a few articles of Zaunite clothing, a stack of local tabloids, and a wide variety of packaged snacks. Molly picked up a tin that contained pickled fish slathered in mustard and turned it in her hands thoughtfully.
"My thoughtful girl," she said with a chuckle, "she's so talented at getting whatever it is you need."
She put the can back down before moving over to check the final crate.
"So these must be the augmentations."
At the word, the attention of all the Zaunites except Zac, who had gone to assist Ken turned to Molly. With more care than she had used with the others, she opened the last crate and revealed an arm augmentation. Its design was sleek and utilitarian, clearly intended more for daily use than as a weapon. But even though this limb was never designed to injure anyone, a quick look was all it would take for someone to realize that its craftsmanship rivaled that of a Chem-Baron's personal thug. Behind her, all those with augmentations looked on in envy.
Molly ghosted her fingers along the length of the limb, taking in the smooth texture of it. There were no scuffs or burs or sloppy welding lines. In fact, it appeared as though the only thing disrupting the sleek finish of it was intentional; a maker's mark located on the posterior portion of the limb above the elbow depicted a skull surrounded by a gear. She ran her thumb over the mark before putting the augmentation back and shutting the crate once more.
"Wasn't expecting to see an auggie out here," one of them mumbled.
"Moyna is friends with a talented doctor," Molly answered, "which is fortunate for us. We know good people who need the good doctor's work."
By now Ken had returned carrying a teapot filled with hot tea. Zac walked beside him, holding a platter with six matching tea cups glazed in a pale celadon color and two additional ones in the Piltovan style.
"Tea is here," Ken said as he poured it out for his guests, "take whichever cup you like. They all hold the hot stuff just the same."
The cups were passed around with everyone taking one with a word of thanks, sometimes given in Piltovan and sometimes in Ionian. Whichever way her guests responded, Molly accepted it with a smile.
"It's not going to be an easy adjustment," she said, "this place is about as opposite of Zaun as you can get, but it's not an impossible adjustment either."
"Just look at us," Ken added, "we've made it work in our own way."
"And we have no doubt you'll make it work in yours. So, until then, we will say a prayer to Janna for you, that she bless you with protection on your journeys."
The pair drank with their guests and offered words of encouragement and advice for learning the language and habits of daily life. Zac would have been content to spend the evening there, learning as much as he could and he imagined that the others Zaunites likely felt the same way, but unlike him, they were employed by Sett and their boss wanted to move on. Scarcely over a quarter of an hour passed before he was urging them all out the door.
"Thanks for the tea," he said.
"Well, thank you for delivering the crates," Molly said.
"Which I did as a thank you to Moyna for gettin' everyone onto the boat safely. We could go around in a circle all night with polite talk, but I don't want to do that. So please, just take my thanks and we will all be off. Everyone, thank the nice people."
There was a chorus of thanks from the refreshed Zaunites.
"You are welcome," Molly said with a chuckle.
She and Ken waved good-bye from their doorway as the travelers continued on their way.