A/N: Salutations! In case you're curious, I do check my reader stats, and I am pleasantly surprised. There are still a lot of you reading this story despite how long I go without updating. Thank you so much for sticking with this story! I'm so happy that I still have some of you who are invested! Even if you don't review, thank you for reading! For those of you who are new readers, welcome aboard! Firelight is something that I have invested a lot of time into (6 years), so I am happy that it is still drawing people in :)
As for this chapter, it feels a little fast-paced to me. I am wondering if I tried to make too much happen too fast regarding travel locations and the plot surrounding the rift machine. Is it too fast-paced or is it just right? Are you happy that I'm getting on with the point of Part IV or do you think I should slow down with future chapters? I'm curious about what you think. Regardless of the overall pacing, there are some vital plot points in this chapter that I have taken far too long getting to. Please enjoy and thank you again for reading! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, but Planet Dabnod is of my own creation, as are all of Dabnod's characters. (Besides Roy. Roy Harper is a character owned by DC Comics).
Part IV: Unraveled: Chapter Forty-Five
Despite the fact that there are no signs or fences marking the boundary between the ninth and eighth provinces, it is perfectly clear where the border lies. After fourteen continuous hours of forcing their way through labyrinths of brambles and branches, the vast wilderness of Province Nine comes to an abrupt break. A tidy dirt path leads the way to a fair village with neatly pruned grasses sprouting around each house.
Though it is dark, Roy can easily see that these dwellings are in better condition than the rough cabins of Whisper Valley. Solid doors that are sanded to perfection adorn each entrance. The same is true for the window shutters. These houses are also spacious, clearly having more than a single room. Toward the end of the trail, Roy swears that he sees a building with two floors! Flowers are arranged in beds outside each structure, making this village look charming. This is such a vast difference from the harsh atmosphere of Province Nine that the archer cannot help ogling.
Tenna has clearly never stepped foot outside of her home province. The mountaineer may be a grown woman, but she gapes at the orderly settlement as if it is as alien to her as Planet Earth was to Damiana. Caen, on the other hand, doesn't seem fretful whatsoever. He points at the two-story building while yanking on his mother's skirts gleefully.
"Zaesa! Look at the building! That one has so many rooms that they had to build it going up!"
Damiana giggles. "If you think that these houses are big, you should see Earth. Cities like Chicago and Steel City have buildings with dozens of floors that tower into the sky. The tallest building I've seen is in Metropolis, and it has eighty-seven stories."
Caen's seafoam features shift to lime. "Wow! That many? That's amazing!"
Even if her features weren't shifting to purple, distress would still be prevalent in Tenna's gaze. "Are all of the buildings that big?"
"Not all of them. Most of them are shorter. But yes. Big Earth cities have a lot of very tall buildings. They're called skyscrapers."
Most of their day-long journey from Whisper Valley to the eighth province has consisted of quietude. When it isn't silent, the only things Roy has heard are Caen and Tenna playing twenty questions with Damiana. While Damiana's story of her early days on Earth was tragic, the archer is perplexed about how it persuaded Tenna to join them. If anything, it seems like the Noble Lady's struggles would make the mountaineer yearn for death! Nevertheless, here she is with her son. Roy won't pretend to understand Tenna. He has simply decided to be happy that at least one family is a step closer to survival, even if nobody else decided to join.
Sorrow for the lives lost in Whisper Valley is short-lived. Prophet Veng halts directly in front of the two-story structure with the remainder of the Fire Lily Tribe following close behind. A young woman, appearing in her mid-twenties, emerges through the front entrance. Orange brighter than the setting sun is what garbs her, along with tight, black, leggings underneath the dress. The way she beams at the throng makes the dress appear fluorescent.
"Welcome, Prophet Veng! We have been busily preparing for your arrival! We have rooms in the inn for your entire tribe. The only exception is you, of course. The guestroom in Leader's home has been made especially for you, wise prophet."
An inn?! The idea of any sort of hotel makes Roy happier than he has been in a month! He has slept on the grass outside, on the floor in Tenna's cabin, in a smelly barn, and has shared many tight sleeping bags with Damiana. Uncomfortable sleeping conditions are nothing that Titan Speedy cannot handle. For one night, however, a bed sounds better than Mijo's Tacos on Christmas morning! Roy has to refrain from loudly thanking Prophet Veng as the elderly man replies to the innkeeper.
"Thank you, Kit! Your generosity is much appreciated. We will trade you many valuable goods for your services. Be that as it may, I have one small request that I would like to make for tonight."
"Request anything that you desire, wise prophet. We will do whatever we can to fulfill your wishes."
Emerald eyes squint exasperatedly. Can't Prophet Veng make his request in secret while everyone else is assigned to their rooms? More than anything, he wants to sleep. Especially after walking downhill through thorny bushes for fourteen straight hours shortly after being married to his teammate! Sadly, it turns out that being married to his teammate is exactly the cause for the old man's wish…
"My request is regarding two of the newest additions to our group. Roy and Damiana of the Flying Arrow Clan were newly married this morning less than an hour before we departed from Whisper Valley. The amount of traveling we have done has hardly given them time to celebrate. If you are able, I would like them to have the most lavish accommodations possible for their wedding night. And give them pajamas for tonight and new day clothes for tomorrow. This is my wedding present to them."
Resounding cheers flood the air, not just from the Fire Lily Tribe, but also from the scant few villagers who happen to be nearby. Roy doesn't have to utter a word. Damiana's fuchsia curls speak far louder. As for her cheeks, they are so hot that he could boil water on them.
"W-what?! N-no! This isn't necessary! We only married as an act of convenience! Roy and I have no desire to…to…uh…t-take p-part…in any m-married people…a-activities…."
"Lady Flying Arrow, you're spouting nonsense! Do not insult your husband just because you're nervous."
"Prophet Veng, this isn't about me being nervous! This is about…uh… This-this… This is about…"
A conclusion to the statement doesn't seem to exist. In spite of the situation, the archer finds himself chuckling. "If this is about how I'm super attractive and how you can hardly resist me, it's okay. Don't be ashamed. I can hardly resist myself when I look in the mirror. I know how you feel."
"Roy, are you crazy? You aren't honestly suggesting that we're going to…share a bed…tonight?!"
"Sex. The word you're looking for is sex. Just say it. Tiptoeing around the use of that word makes you sound like an old lady. And no. I'm not suggesting that at all. All I said is that you think I'm sexy. Prophet Veng is right. You're super nervous to share a room with me, and it's because you're attracted to me."
She slaps a palm to her forehead. "Are you seriously challenging me on this? We've been sharing a sleeping bag for the past two weeks! I'm fine sharing a space with you! I just wanted my own bed so I can get a decent night's sleep."
"Why get decent sleep alone when you can get excellent sleep with me? I'm three times as comfortable as a pillow and ten times the fun!" Arms slither around Damiana's waist, the girl's back tugged firmly against his chest. "And you, you're warm, and cuddly, and feisty like an angry kitten! You can't deny me, my snuggle buddy."
Without realizing it, the entire conversation between them has been exchanged in English. Prophet Veng and the others stare bewildered. Meanwhile, Damiana snarls.
"If we share a bed tonight, it will be just like all the other times we've shared sleeping space. You touch me, you die!"
The archer laughs amused. "Will you relax? For the hundredth, millionth, time, I am not going to have sex with you. If I was that kind of guy, I would have tried talking you into it way before now."
She elbows Roy sharply in the ribs. He releases her from his grasp immediately. While doing so, she switches to Dabnodian and turns toward Prophet Veng. "Alright, fine. We'll share the room."
Damiana fought hard against Kit the innkeeper and the women of the Fire Lily Tribe. Alas, they overcame the Lady of the Flying Arrow Clan in a swarm. Tugging fabric and knotting ribbons. Poking and prodding. Scrubbing her body with soap and water, and then slathering her skin with lotion. She no longer smells like berries as she did this morning for the wedding. A spice similar to cinnamon is the current aroma, the distinction being that this scent is far more fragrant. As for the dress that the womenfolk have shoved her into, it is ghastly! Damiana can scarcely call the garment a "dress".
Soft, silky, paper-thin material covers the Noble Lady. It reminds her of a slip that one might wear beneath a gown. Straps hardly thicker than threads hold the skimpy outfit to her body while the hem barely covers her upper thighs. An inch of material is what covers her buttock. Sadly, this is the least of her concerns. Those dastardly women removed the bindings that hold her breasts close to her body. They also removed the wrappings that served as her underwear. Damiana's slender body is practically naked!
Now that the girl is alone without a group of giggling dames primping her, she admits that her reflection is quite lovely. Damiana sees gorgeous legs in the full-length mirror. As for her breasts, they don't look as tiny as they used to be. In Earth sizes, Damiana would put them at a b-cup, whereas they used to be an a-cup. Whisper Valley fed her and Roy well throughout the weeks they spent there. During the frost, there also wasn't much physical activity. Perhaps the girl has gained a couple of pounds. The idea that those pounds added weight to her breasts is baffling, to say the least. Damiana thought for sure that the first area of weight gain would be her stomach, but there isn't a centimeter of new flesh there. Truth be told, her hips and rear look thicker as well.
Had this sudden weight gain occurred several months ago, she may have been happy. This would mean fewer humans pointing out her bony physique. Standing in front of a mirror in a thigh-length, paper-thin, nightdress, with insignificant straps, however, transforms her newfound body into something horrendous. Turning from the mirror, Damiana views the bedroom that the innkeeper shoved her into after being prepared for her wedding night.
In a less irritating situation, the room would actually be quite lovely. The tall, brass-framed, mirror stands beside a full-sized copper washtub and a brass water pump. There is a fireplace built into the wall with a bucket hanging on a hook beside it, likely used to heat water for the bath. Damiana wishes she had the room to herself so that she could soak! As for the bed, it is a soft, feather-filled, mattress with piles of pillows and soft blankets arranged neatly on top of it. After her bath, Damiana would love to sleep in it!
Unfortunately, this room doesn't belong to her alone. This becomes apparent when the door swings open and Roy stumbles inside. Men from the Fire Lily Tribe shout avidly.
"Make her your wife as the Fates command!"
"Just be gentle, okay? Women are delicate."
Roy straightens his posture, turns, glowers, and slams the door. "I could have gotten ready by myself! I don't need people to wash me and dress me!"
"It's tradition on Dabnod," replies a man through the wall. "You are supposed to be properly prepared for the wedding ceremony and then for the wedding night. It ensures that you will please the Fates!"
A few more comments are shouted and then retreating footfalls echo. Yet, Damiana pays no attention. The girl's focus is entirely on Roy, and unquestionably, she feels her face burning up. He is adorned by nothing more than a silk robe that comes above his knees. When the archer was shoved into the room, the knot in the front came loose, revealing most of his chest and stomach. Damiana is unable to stop herself from gawking, and her teammate returns the favor. Emerald orbs are wider than disks as his gaze makes the journey along the entire length of her body. Neither of them speaks for the longest time.
"Wow!" Roy exclaims at last.
Never has Damiana felt a stronger yearning for her baggy sweatshirt and jeans. She crosses her arms over her chest as discreetly as possible. "For the record, I didn't choose to wear this. I was forced to wear this against my will."
"Don't you think I know that? You threatened to kill me for touching you less than an hour ago! I know very well that you would never choose to dress that sexy."
"Sexy?!"
He coughs uneasily. "Sorry. Wrong choice of words… Why don't we just get in bed and go to sleep? You're tired and I'm tired."
"Yes. That's a good idea."
Actually, no. Trying to go to sleep is the worst possible idea that they could have come up with. For a single person, or for passionate newlyweds, the small, snug, bed would be pure perfection. For two nearly naked, awkward, teenagers who are trying to avoid temptation, however, the bed feels like the tenth circle of Hell. First, they try sleeping side-by-side. This works, but only for five minutes.
"Roy, move over. I'm about to fall off of the edge."
"I can't. I already have one leg hanging off."
"Then roll onto your side or something. Stop laying on your back so I have some room!"
"What about you? You're laying on your stomach, hypocrite!"
Aggravated groaning penetrates the darkness. "Fine! I'll lay on my side if you lay on yours."
Laying back-to-back is slightly better. They are more comfortable, but for a measly ten minutes.
"Dami, my arm is falling asleep. I have to turn over."
"So? Why are you announcing it to me? I don't care!"
"Alright, fine. Geez. Somebody put some piss in your coffee this morning!"
Damiana doesn't bother gracing the archer's retort with a response. Instead, she ignores it in an attempt to fall asleep. This effort is to no avail. Fifteen minutes later, pins and needles are felt on the side she is laying on. Without warning, she, too, rolls over. The reaction she is met with is startling, to say the least.
"Umm… D-Damiana… Can you turn over? Please?!"
"For the love of Fates, why can't you turn over?"
"Uh…. Well…. That isn't going to help me very much. Trust me. I need you to turn over."
In her state of drowsiness, the girl doesn't realize it until it is too late. Tossing and turning and the constant rustling of the blankets have caused one of the straps of the nightdress to fall. Her entire left breast is exposed, and it is pressing against Roy's chest. Her brain instantly waking, she quickly works to pull the strap back up so that her chest is covered. Regrettably, this doesn't help. The hem has crept up practically to her navel. Bare thighs and bare womanly region are mere centimeters from the flesh of Roy's legs. She toils to pull the hemline back down. While adjusting the garment, an odd sensation distracts her. Something that hadn't been there earlier nudges the back of her hand. When moving her hand away altogether, the same thing can be felt poking her thigh.
"Turn over now!"
Understanding washes over Damiana in a way that she never ever wanted. "Sweet Fates!"
"Don't be mad at me for this! I told you to turn over, so your naked crotch and boobies weren't rubbing against me! If you would have turned over, I wouldn't be struggling!"
"Don't blame me! You did that on purpose!"
A sullen sigh fills the air. "I have a woman who is almost naked sharing a bed with me and laying directly against me. What did you think would happen?!"
"Can't you make it stop?!"
"Umm….. Not exactly…. Do you have any idea how the male body functions?"
"No…. I have no idea, to be honest."
It is Roy that turns over. Damiana turns over, too. Their backs are now facing each other, though it feels as if not nearly enough space is between them.
"Ah, I see. That answer makes sense." He coughs as if this is the most uncomfortable moment of his life. For all Damiana knows, it probably is. This is the most awkward moment of her life. "To help you understand, at least a little bit, my…uh…male body… has a mind of its own. I can't control it. If it gets….um…..aroused…all I can do is wait for it to go away."
"Oh. Okay." Damiana cannot believe that this is happening. She had been aware before this event that male bodies are different from female bodies, and that they may react to certain stimuli. Little did she know that she was attractive enough to cause that reaction! Understanding now that this isn't necessarily Roy's fault, that his body is merely reacting to its environment, she says something in an attempt to alleviate the tension. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Roy bursts into guffaws. "Trust me. You do not want me to answer that!" He is shoved off of the bed and onto the floor. Then Damiana hits him in the face with a pillow. "Ouch! Knock it off! I was joking!"
It takes an hour for the archer and several hours for the Noble Lady, but eventually they manage to fall asleep. Roy doesn't return to the bed. He takes most of the pillows from the bed, along with one of the blankets, and sleeps on a makeshift mattress on the floor. Damiana would never admit this, not even to herself, but she feels the tiniest hint of pride. Never did she imagine that her appearance is lovely enough to impact a man the way that she has impacted Roy.
It took Roy a couple of days to stand within ten feet of his new wife, and another day after that to hold her gaze when she looked at him. Mortification plagued the archer. The discomfort would have persisted if it wasn't for something Damiana said while they were sharing a tent one night.
"Don't hate me, but I shared what happened with Tenna. She…uh…explained some things to me… So don't feel embarrassed. You can't help what your body does." All of a sudden, she looked less like a powerful, fire-using, would-be Queen, and more like a flustered, shy, sixteen-year-old. "Tenna said that happened because I was beautiful. Is that true?"
He, too, was flustered. Roy recalls rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the ground. "Well… Yes. Don't burn my face off for saying this, but…um… You looked very sexy. Any guy would have reacted the way I reacted. Also, about the thing I said, I was just kidding. I wasn't serious about you 'helping me'. Just because I'm horny doesn't mean I would force myself on you. You're sexy, but you're also my friend."
The way in which she stared suggested that she didn't feel offended at all. Surprise showed in her magenta eyes. "That's okay. I know you were only kidding. You like to tease." Damiana lay on the tent's floor and turned away from him. "For what it's worth…umm… Sweet Fates, I can't even say it."
"Whatever you want to say, say it. I won't judge."
"Yes, you will. You will never let me live it down."
"Try me."
"Alright fine." She buried her face in her forearms. Even muffled, the confession could still be made out. "I think that you're sexy, too. You're hot as hell, so I guess we're even."
Shock is the best word Roy can think of to describe his reaction. "Wow! Really?! I never thought I'd hear you that!"
"Well… I said it! You're very good-looking. Just don't get arrogant, okay?"
Since that night, their confessions have never been spoken of again. Aside from the infinite hours of walking each day, life is more or less back to normal. Numerous questions about Earth are asked– not only by Tenna but by the Tribals as well. Roy gets inquiries not just about Earth, but additionally, there are queries concerning the human species. The archer answers them all. Then, when they are not occupied by others, the two Titans converse in English.
Sometimes these English conversations are in their tent at night. Other times it is throughout the day when one has a thought for the other. Their talks usually consist of what it will be like once they return to Earth. Amusement Park trips are the most frequent topic mentioned by Roy. Beach day is another idea that has been brought up. They spent what felt like an hour talking about fun in their tent a night or so ago.
"The Lightning Bird is the best rollercoaster there! It makes you feel like you're flying! There is also a food stand that sells amazing loaded cheese fries."
"Steel City Fun Land sounds great! You said there is a water park too?"
"Yes. I think you'll like the wave pool. That's Bee's favorite thing to do there."
Dami snorted sardonically. "Really? I thought Fish-For-Brains would like the wave pool more."
"Not exactly. Chlorine burns his gills. He also thinks amusement parks are a waste of money and help pollute the oceans."
They'd guffawed, the entire time making jokes about how much they can torture Aqualad simply by going to the food court and tossing straw wrappers into the bushes. Damiana added that they should give Fish-For-Brains the receipt for the meal afterward.
Roy smiles to himself at the recollection of the past several weeks of travel. Marriage isn't ideal. Neither was their wedding night. Yet, they've bounced back quickly enough. Dami even mentioned that a year from now, their being "married" can be a hilarious inside joke.
The longer they travel, the greater Roy's craving grows for Earth. Province Eight, while not as primitive as Whisper Valley, still has a stunning lack of technology. Outhouses in the place of bathrooms are growing tiresome. Not to mention, there are not any proper tools for crafting or repairing trick arrows. Roy can only hope that he never has to utilize his weapon.
Damiana misses Earth, too. He can see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. Five years is what it took, but she finally found a home on the little, blue, planet. Although Dabnod is her birth home, it is long gone in their own time period. Deep sadness that cannot be conveyed aloud is seen in Dami's dark, gray, eyes with each farming village they pass through. Men tend fields. Children gather eggs from green birds with long, spiked, tails called gzrifs. Women milk uikin. Farmers and their families take breaks to dance with the Fire Lily Tribe in the village square to celebrate their arrival. This is the pattern for all of the settlements in this province whenever they show up, and the girl always interacts with satisfaction. Yet, despair is more prominent.
"I know Province Eight isn't important. It's a rural province with nothing but fields of ilk and bintlits for miles. Rural doesn't equal meaningless, though. These people don't deserve to die!"
That particular night, the would-be Queen was laying in a farmer's loft sobbing inconsolably. It was the second village they'd entered, and at that point, nobody had joined. They respected Prophet Veng but were far too scared at the idea of leaving the home they'd always known. Thankfully, the villagers were still kind enough to house the Fire Lily Tribe for the night.
The archer rested a hand on her shoulder as they lay in a pile of lilac hay facing each other. "There isn't much we can do, Dami. We warned them. Prophet Veng warned them. They said no. We did all we can."
After two weeks of travel, only four people from the third community they'd arrived at joined – a middle-aged couple and their two daughters. Upon being interrogated by civilians from their hometown, the couple clarified their reason for leaving.
"Our wise Prophet has never steered us wrong. Every single prediction made throughout the decades has come to pass. Prophet Veng says that Dabnod will detonate in a matter of months. When that day comes, my family will be on a space pod moving toward another planet."
"Even if Prophet Veng is right, what good will surviving do?!" demanded that settlement's leader.
"Dabnodians are resilient. We can survive anything. The Fates clearly do not want the Dabnodian people to vanish from this universe. Even without our own planet, the Dabnodian race will come out on the other side of this disaster."
Another week has passed since then – three weeks in total. They passed through a fourth farming settlement in Province Eight. Nobody joined from there, either. Somehow, the fact that merely four people from the eighth province decided to leave surprises Damiana more than Roy. The archer knew ahead of time that very few people would desert their homes. As disheartening as this reality is, it is only reasonable that they would refuse to leave their farms on the word of an old man who says the world will explode. In their position, Roy would stay put, too!
On the other hand, it is also reasonable that Damiana cries herself to sleep every time nobody comes. These are her fellow Dabnodians with a lot of life to live. Seeing happy families and knowing that they will be destroyed must be awful for the girl, who had long been the only surviving member of her species until finding Adriel and Saeran. Watching her suffer makes Roy feel guilty. For the length of their journey, his primary concern has been eating something other than the blue, potato-like, bintlits and the stringy, onion-like, ilk that was received from Province Eight by trading. On top of finding a blacksmith to repair the crack in Black Shadow's rift machine, of course.
Now that they have gone deep into the bowels of Province Seven, both of these wishes have come true. Province Seven has the tastiest treat that Roy has ever tasted! Their primary crop food is a grain called elvik, which they use to make bread. It is not the bread that he is accustomed to, of course. It is thick and grainy, but it isn't bad. There is a tasty topping made from tree sap that is poured on top. The bread is immediately softened when this topping is added, and a sweet, nutty, flavor is given. One thing Roy noticed approximately four days ago is that the trees in Province Seven are different. They do not have white bark and dark, violet, leaves. Their bark is yellow, and the leaves are bluer than they are purple. Perhaps blue-violet would be the name of the color. This would explain why Province Seven has access to the bread ingredients while Provinces Eight and Nine did not.
Food and foliage are not the only contrasting quirks possessed by the seventh province. The towns here are filled with life! More structures occupy these towns than Roy thought possible! For once, the word "village" does not accurately describe these communities. There are enough people and enough structures for "town" to serve as a more accurate descriptor. More significant than anything in these towns, Roy notices, is that practically everybody is a rock user. This likely is not a coincidence. Each town, it seems, has a bustling mining industry.
The minerals being mined all appear foreign. In the first town they passed through, the trading post had endless piles of shiny, black, flakes that appeared similar to metal. The second town had flat, gray stones that were being traded. As plain as these products appeared, they must have been valuable. One man traded two barrels of elvik and a uikin for a meager bucket of the black flakes. As for the gray stones, half a crate was worth three gzrifs and a full crate of bintlits. The trading post where they are currently at sells rigid, lilac-colored, rocks. Damiana, clearly as baffled as Roy, asks the gentleman manning the front counter what the lilac rocks are used for.
"I have no clue, Noble Lady. I just know that they're valuable. You're from the Capital. Shouldn't you know? The Capital is the place that uses these rocks the most."
A sigh of vexation escapes. "You know what? Forget it. What about a blacksmith? Does this town have one? We've heard from a lot of people that the town of Jyn has a quality blacksmith."
The luck they are having is nothing new. Neither of the other Province Seven towns knew the function of their primary export, either. They just knew that their product was profitable. As for the subject regarding the blacksmith, the townspeople in the two previous settlements stated that Jyn has one. Now their highest hopes are that this information turns out to be accurate.
"Of course, we do! It's two buildings down on the left. Ret is the best blacksmith around."
"Can he repair a crack in a metal device?"
"Hmph. He'd be insulted that you asked."
Alright. It looks like the rumor floating around was true after all. He isn't sure if he has the privilege of saying this as a human being. Nevertheless, praise the Fates! The inside of the trading post is a stinking mess of animals and dirt, and the air is floating with dust. All forms of tradable goods, from seeds to foodstuffs and from tools to the lilac rocks, are piled high in crates. It requires navigating a maze of crates, livestock, and civilians, but they are eventually able to exit.
The Fire Lily Tribe has disbursed with the agreement that they will meet at the local inn at sundown. Tenna and Caen are at the mercantile, fabric being the mountaineer's primary concern. New, sturdy, cloth for sewing clothes is a necessity, she'd stated, because their Province Nine animal skins are making her and Caen appear out of place. As for the rest of the Fire Lily Tribe and the new family that joined, they are in the town square watching Prophet Veng preach to the people of Jyn. This leaves Roy and Damiana on their own for the day.
Just as the man at the trading post claimed, the blacksmith is close. No words mark the sign above the entrance. Instead, the wooden sign is painted with an anvil and a hammer. Heat pours out from the front door when Roy enters. Damiana follows a few steps behind. She delicately strokes the surface of the rift machine, almost as if it is an injured infant instead of an inanimate object.
The redhead is immediately impressed. Superbly crafted swords are displayed on the walls. Ornate metalwork was used to decorate the hilts and holsters. One sword hilt has the head of a phoenix while the holster is crafted to look like fire. Another has the head of a serpent, the holster designed so it looks like the remainder of its body wraps around it. The swords are only the beginning. Daggers bedeck the walls as well. These are not nearly as detailed, but they still appear sturdy, and the metalwork is sleek. Meanwhile, Damiana's attention is drawn to shelves on the right wall. Clan belts and armbands are on display. Unlike the weapons, these works of art are inlaid with gemstones.
"Unless you are a collector, you do not want any of those products. They are merely decorative. My highest quality work looks less pretty, though it is far stronger." The person speaking is a skinny man appearing in his late thirties.
Damiana puts on her most charming smile and steps forward. "Actually, we aren't here to purchase anything. We are hoping that you can repair something."
The blacksmith, presumably Ret, does not reply promptly. He takes a moment to observe them. More particularly, Ret examines Damiana's armbands. The Flying Arrow armband causes him to raise both bushy, jade, brows. He glances from Damiana to Roy, and back again. Upon glancing at the Fire Phoenix armband directly underneath, jade hair brightens to lime.
"Normally I would ask what needs to be repaired, and then charge a Noble Lady five times the usual price for my work. However, the alien beside you and the jewelry bedecking your arm makes me think that you aren't merely nobility escaping the drudgery of Capital life."
"Not exactly. I have no attachments with the Capital or with the Fire Phoenix Clan. We have goods that can be traded for your services, but I cannot provide you with the lavish wage that a Noble Lady with attachments could offer."
"That is alright, dear. I'm the best blacksmith in Province Seven and have plenty of resources. I have no reason to demand absurdly high prices from an estranged Noblewoman." The blacksmith smiles kindly, yet appears curious. "As for that gadget you're holding, I have no idea what it is, or if I can fix it at all! You don't have to pay me. The only thing my services will cost you is the twisted tale of who you people are because, by the looks of things, you're married to an alien!"
This is a price that Roy and Damiana are more than willing to pay. It takes him and the would-be Queen each explaining their situation from their own angles for Blacksmith Ret to remotely comprehend any portion of their story. They are led to the shop's backroom, filled with fireplaces, water pumps, and a wide array of tools. Ret sets the rift machine down at his worktable, scratches his head, and sighs.
"So, this gizmo opens rifts to any planet during any historical period, and you came through a rift to Dabnod from five years into the future. Coming through the rift broke the machine. Now you need me to help fix it. Am I describing your circumstance accurately?"
"Umm…. Yes? I know. It sounds super crazy. You don't have to believe us. We just need you to weld the crack in the side together. If possible, we would also like you to fix the flap on the top. The two flaps are supposed to separate when a rift forms and rejoin when the rift closes. One of the flap's hinges broke off, so we need it reattached. If there is something here that can work like a hinge, that would be great!"
Ret frowns baffled. "I can repair the crack in the side. The only problem is that the metal I use won't be exactly the same. There is not a metal on Dabnod that is quite like this one. What exactly is this?"
"It's steel. I'm not sure if this helps, but it's an alloy of iron. Steel is a combination of iron and other metals. It makes it stronger and more durable than other Earth metals. It's also more durable against heat and corrosion. Are there any similar metals that exist on Dabnod?"
"There are," Ret answers Roy happily. "I invented an alloy of plirtkin that has been selling in massive quantities. Since the beginning of this war with Tamaran, people have been demanding more durable metals from blacksmiths. Probably for fighter ships and escape pods and such. I have some scrap leftover from my last shipment. That should be durable enough. Just know that it won't have exactly the same properties as your Earth materials."
"Of course not. As long as it holds together when the rift opens, that's all we need."
"Alright. Then I'll get to work. While I'm working, tell me about your life. Why would a Noblewoman from the Capital choose to live on planet Earth instead of Dabnod?"
Later that night, Roy remembers only two things from their conversation. The first is Ret's commentary about the complexity of the device, and about how it may indeed serve the function that they claim it serves. The second was that he didn't jeer when Damiana told him the tale of Dabnod's destruction. Instead, the blacksmith's eyebrows furrowed pensively.
Though a week has passed, the Noblewoman is still struggling to comprehend the events that took place in Jyn. Rather than joining the Fire Lily Tribe, Blacksmith Ret stayed behind. This devastated Damiana initially, as the blacksmith seemed to believe them. The advanced mechanics of Black Shadow's rift machine was evidence so insurmountable that Ret surrendered all logic for the reality of Dabnod's coming annihilation.
"A Noble Lady…stuck in the past…from five years in the future. A future where Dabnod no longer exists because it gets destroyed in the war with Tamaran. And Dabnod's destruction is little more than two months away, to boot. If this gizmo wasn't so intricate, then I'd say you're crazy… but you're making not believing you hard. Very hard…"
Within four hours, the massive crack had been filled in with Ret's self-invented plirtkin alloy. The blacksmith, a fire user, heated it to such an extreme temperature that the machine had glowed orange. Once it cooled, the repaired portion stretched across the device's side like an onyx scar. Ret truly is the best blacksmith in Province Seven, because not a crease or crinkle was found to suggest that it was ever broken. The only reason Damiana can tell that it was once damaged is because of the black clashing against the silver. The new hinge that Ret added to the broken flap on the top is brass while the others are silver, causing these colors to clash as well. Of course, Damiana couldn't care less about mismatching colors. The rift machine is a few steps closer to being functional.
As for the blacksmith staying behind, this did not turn out to have the dreadful outcome that she assumed. The reason he stayed is something that was announced very loudly in the town center once Prophet Veng had fulfilled giving his customary warning.
"It is very possible that the wise Prophet is right. We have seen evidence of this brutal war. Members of the Royal Council have passed through Jyn in search of soldiers, and Royal Knights have come here requesting supplies. A mere six months ago, a battle broke out in the fields outside of our town between Dabnodian Knights and the Tamaraneans that left the wildlife in that area devastated! Why is it so impossible to believe that Planet Dabnod could meet its end?
"We have the resources, and we still have a little bit of time. I say we use the materials given to Province Seven by the Fates and begin constructing space pods! I have a friend a few towns over with vast knowledge of Capital technology. With his knowledge and mine, Jyn can construct enough escape pods for entire towns to escape!"
The people of Jyn, while they were unconvinced of Dabnod's coming annihilation, did agree that constructing their own spacecrafts was a wise idea. Not because Dabnod would detonate, but just in case they need to flee in an emergency situation. The family they'd picked up in the eighth province stayed in Jyn to help.
Each passing day causes Damiana to become slightly more fearful. As of this morning, exactly two months are left until her home planet's last day. The number of lives that will be lost makes her cry herself to sleep some nights. Yet, Damiana does not regret returning home even if it was against her will. Because she and Roy are here, it is possible that countless towns of Province Seven civilians could be saved. If only it was certain that she and Roy could save themselves.
"I don't know if it's because reading Dabnodian is still a struggle, but it doesn't seem like we've found anything useful."
As dour as Roy sounds, he may be correct. This library is large enough to hold three of the cabins in Whisper Valley, yet not a single book has been found containing anything helpful. It was difficult for Damiana, but they'd left the town of Jyn in the capable hands of the few individuals who believed their warnings. That happened a week ago. Since then, they have crossed another border into Province Six. If the mining towns of Province Seven were impressive, then the Province Six settlements are doubly so.
The town that they currently occupy is built along the coastline, their primary industry being fishing. The fish captured there, a delicacy known as red zeat, only spawn in the bay that their community is constructed around. So much money is earned from fishing that their town has everything, including two trading posts, a clinic, a school, and a library.
The library has been of particular excitement to the Titans. Ret was of great assistance with the minor repairs that needed to be made, but that still leaves two key problems with the rift machine. One problem is that the fuel chamber is charred beyond recognition, and the other problem is that there is absolutely no fuel source. Their greatest hope is learning about a metal sturdier than the one that Ret used in his repair. The plirtkin alloy should be strong enough for patchwork, but it may not be sturdy enough to contain an extremely potent power supply. First and foremost, they need to discover a way to recreate the fuel chamber. After that, perhaps a power supply can be found.
"Don't say that! It has only been a couple of hours. There are hundreds of books in here. It is going to take more than two short hours to rummage through everything."
The archer shoves his pile of literature aside and groans. "I know. I guess I'm just frustrated. We've wasted two months – one in Whisper Valley, and another on the road with the Fire Lily Tribe. We only have two months left! It could take a while to learn exactly what we need, and even longer to find it! Once we know what we need, how do we know that we won't have to backtrack? Who knows? Maybe the fuel source is back in Province Seven! They mine so many materials that it's possible we traveled past it."
"Will you please stop freaking out?! I get what you're saying, but you might be overreacting. The Capital City and its surrounding provinces are massive consumers of the products mined in the seventh province. We haven't walked past anything. Anything we need can be found in a modern settlement."
"Yes, but what if it is an element so rare that it is impossible to find? We could find what we need by chance and successfully get the rift machine working, or we could keep searching until Dabnod explodes and we die! You're being too optimistic. Prepare yourself for the reality that the latter can happen."
Emerald eyes glisten. Green and soft pink lock onto each other until it is impossible for the alien girl to ignore. Roy looks horrified. The closer they get to the Capital City, the more the atmosphere changes. The ninth and eighth provinces were beautiful in their own unique way, seeing as they were cut off from the rest of Dabnodian society. Whisper Valley and every other diminutive village was a rural paradise where families thrived in the bounty that the Fates provided, untouched by the impact of the war. Family members were sometimes recruited. Supplies were sometimes requested. Other than that, the war was more like a dark fairy tale than a chilling reality. This changed once they entered Province Seven, and even more now that they are in the sixth province.
Whispers of war. Rumors about the obliteration of Province Five, and of the eradication of anybody who pokes around the ruins. Frightened civilians occasionally shudder when they see her armband bearing the symbol for the Fire Phoenix Clan. The most stunning occurrence, however, is that she and Roy passed a Knight Squadron on their way to the library. The soldiers weren't very old. Truth be told, they were mere boys no older than thirteen. They are likely Pages who have come to this town on a mission with their Knight Master. Damiana didn't react much when she saw the Squadron. This is Dabnod. Knight Squadrons are commonplace. Roy, on the other hand, had frozen in his steps. He'd never seen Royal Knights before. The sight of Royal Knights means that the war with Tamaran is real and that they are walking directly into the midst of it by traveling closer to the Capital.
"You're absolutely right. It is true that we could be killed while we're trying to fix the rift machine. That's why we need to work harder to fix it. We need to keep trying until the end."
"I agree. Just make sure you're being realistic."
They are tucked into the library's backmost corner, hidden from all lurking eyes behind a shelf and a pile of books. This means that when Damiana's eyes lock onto Roy's for an eternal moment, nobody else is around to see. When the archer smiles and moves closer, nobody sees this, either. While neither of them has openly admitted it, physical touch is comforting during these troubled times. Whether it be accidental cuddling in their tent and/or room at night, or purposeful touches throughout the day. They eventually return to reading, the only difference from before being that their legs are entwined.
Damiana picks up the book that he had discarded, figuring that browsing it could be a wise idea. Perhaps the Dabnodian writing is too difficult to decipher, or the cultural knowledge within the pages is outside the redhead's realm of knowledge. Damiana regrets admitting it, but she is immediately bored to tears. Yes, the words are too technical for Roy to read in a foreign language. Yes, the cultural knowledge is outside Roy's realm of understanding in the respect that he is not native to Dabnod. What the girl hadn't counted on is how boring this work of literature would be.
"The Life of a Royal Knight: A Guidebook for Pages and Squires". Damiana nearly falls asleep while reading the first chapter. Armor, it says, must be durable. It must be able to withstand attacks from the four elements, in addition to any attacks from foreign invaders. Dabnodian armor does this by absorbing the energy from each blow. When young Knights-in-training craft their armor, the most important step is finding an ingredient called pulk. Pulk is a mineral found in the roots of most plants and in the soil of fruitful riverbeds. Pulk does not defend against superpowers but absorbs their energy. This makes it great not only for producing vegetation but pulk is also a good ingredient to mix with paint to coat the insides of armor with.
The Noble Lady can feel her eyes shutting as she skims page twenty-four. "The metal used to craft armor can be anything from this list: titron, miltron, plirtkin, or jinni. So long as it is coated with pulk-infused paint, the armor will hold up against most attacks. Be sure that the paint is replaced once every six months to ensure its long-lasting durability. To ensure that pulk added to homemade paints is of the appropriate variety, it should be a deep blue or deep green hue. Additionally…"
As if struck by a bolt of lightning, Damiana suddenly jolts awake. Wait a minute? Did this book say that pulk-infused paint can make all Dabnodian metals sturdier? So sturdy that it can be used as armor for Knights? Perhaps what they require for the fuel chamber isn't a more reliable metal after all! Maybe pulk can be used as an ingredient to strengthen whichever material they find! Damiana abruptly finds herself with knees on either side of Roy's hips, shoving the book he'd discarded into his face.
"See! Maybe my optimism is a good thing. It looks like I've found the answer to crafting a replacement for the fuel chamber."
Roy takes the guidebook and reads it thoroughly. Grassy irises streaked by forest green must skim the pages at least four times. A ginger brow furrows and a large, masculine, hand rubs his head skeptically. Flushed, Damiana casually crawls off of him and onto her own space on the wooden floor. At last, Roy puts the book down and responds.
"Paint? Are you sure?"
"Absolutely! I can't think of material on this planet more durable than the plirtkin alloy that Blacksmith Ret invented. Since a stronger material doesn't seem to exist, maybe energy-absorbing paint will work. If pulk paint absorbs energy, then the fuel chamber should hold up while the rift is opening. Who knows? Maybe it could cause the rift to be more stable while it's opening, too. We just need to figure out the right amount of pulk to use so that it doesn't absorb too much of the power supply's energy and cause the machine not to work."
The redhead purses his lips thoughtfully. Then he smiles. "Alright. Then I guess we'll go to the trading post. I'm sure we'll find it." A moment later, he adds, "I wonder what else is in here?"
Roy flips through the book obsessively. Shrugging, the girl chooses another. It is a work of literature about jewelry-making. The book is probably completely useless, but it is always worth checking just to be sure. A half-hour later, after Damiana has learned "how to make earrings to seduce your husband and rekindle your marriage", her teammate exclaims loudly.
"Wow! I'm glad we tried this book again. Check out what I found!"
The chapter he is pointing at is regarding fighter ships and spacecraft. This page in particular is providing complex instruction on emergency engine repair. Frankly, this is duller than the chapter teaching Knights how to maintain their armor. Yet, the information here is incredibly useful.
"It is not uncommon for ship engines to break down due to frequent travel or high-intensity battles. Before traveling off-planet for a mission, every new Knight needs to know how to repair an engine and needs to be sure to have these three ingredients amongst their emergency equipment. These ingredients are a struggle to find but are nonetheless invaluable to a Knight's plethora of emergency items.
"The first ingredient is 'ser', a flat, yellow, stone commonly found in the mines of Province Seven. It produces a strong, electrical charge. The second ingredient is 'vengat', a mineral that commonly appears in humid environments as red clay. Vengat is able to transform the dull electric charge of ser into a pure form of energy. However, this transformation is only possible when these two ingredients are combined using a 'zirgnant'. A zirgnant is an incredibly difficult tool to find and requires incredible skill to craft by hand. A zirgnant changes ser and vengat on a molecular level, transforming them into a powerful mineral known as 'servengat'. Servengat can power the engine of your ship for the rest of your mission, but it should only be created in an emergency situation. Zirgnants are powerful tools that are often coveted by thieves and creating the mineral servengat would inform all enemies that you have access to it."
Damiana sighs internally. She did not want to go on a scavenger hunt to find an appropriate fuel source. Yet, it appears that the only way to find strong enough materials to make the rift machine functional is to craft these materials themselves. The Training Guide does call servengat a powerful mineral. If it is potent enough to act as a replacement for a destroyed ship engine, then it should certainly work to replace the original fuel source that Black Shadow used, zenotrum. Damiana is suddenly jealous of Black Shadow. At least the criminal didn't have to hunt for ingredients to craft his fuel source from scratch.
"Well, I'm glad we found some answers." Laughing sardonically, she adds, "I'm just glad we found this information out sooner rather than later. It might take some time to find all of the fuel ingredients. Especially finding that rare tool, the zirgnant."
"Really? I thought that finding the paint and the metal for the fuel chamber would take longer."
This time her giggle is humorous rather than sarcastic. "Oh, you mean the pulk paint? That won't be a problem. Saeran found the pulk he needed in less than fifteen minutes by digging around in the Palace Garden. The pulk won't be hard. Neither will the paint or metal, for that matter. We can find that stuff this afternoon. All we need is to go shopping."
Everything is different in Province Six than in Province Seven. The towns have more people, larger structures, and more structures in general. Until reaching Province Six, Roy hadn't a clue that medical clinics or schools existed on Dabnod at all! As for Royal Knights, Roy had assumed that they would be confined to the Capital City. He and Damiana wander the streets in search of this harbor town's local trading post. They pass the same group of young Knights from this morning. They are very little and rowdy, appearing more like middle school boys than soldiers.
"Alright! We're going to go into the wilderness and kill the larkack!"
"No, that's not what we're doing! We're going into the wilderness with only our swords and armor. If you boys are going to be effective protectors of Her Highness Queen Guayusa, then you need to learn to survive in tough conditions." The boys grumble while their Knight Master continues scolding. "Don't complain! You aren't fighting a larkack, a wild phoenix, or any other dangerous creatures. If a wild beast appears, I will protect you. Your job is learning the basics."
"But I don't need to know how to start a fire and cook food. I can shoot fire from my fingertips! I don't need those basics!"
"Do you know how to locate food or how to build a shelter?" The Knight Master quips.
"Well… No. But I've always liked sleeping under the stars better!"
Seeing Royal Knights, no matter how immature or young, is unsettling. If they are seeing Knight Squadrons as far out as the sixth province, then they will likely begin seeing them in droves the closer they get to the Capital. Considering how Damiana continues to wear her Fire Phoenix armband, this could pose a plethora of problems. Not to mention, more soldiers mean greater chances of invasions. Hopefully they won't get caught in the middle of a bloody battle between Dabnodian soldiers and the Tamaraneans. Especially not before they have a chance to get the rift machine functioning.
More than anything, Roy wishes that Damiana would dash down the street as quickly as possible. Considering how Linden recognized her back in Whisper Valley, anybody can! Yet, she doesn't. Damiana watches the tiny Knights bicker with their Knight Master, giggles, and continues watching.
"They sound exactly like Saeran and Adriel when they would talk to Knight Master Urrvink. I wonder what makes Pages and Squires so argumentative? Fully-fledged Knights are nothing like that."
Roy grabs the girl's hand and gives her a tug. "Come on, Dami. We need to find the trading post."
The girl gives the little warriors one last long, lingering, stare before giving in to Roy's urging. "Alright, fine."
Earthen streets are swept clean. The pink-gray stones that form the buildings are polished. Flowers are planted outside of the schoolhouse, and each home has a vegetable garden out front. Cleanly women are dressed in colorful, sleeveless, dresses that reach their ankles, and soap-scrubbed men are dressed in bright tunics. This town is picturesque in every way. That is, until they locate the trading post. Every trading post that they enter, regardless of its location, is always cluttered. With crates and barrels filled with produce stacked to the ceiling, and assorted items such as rolls of fabric, planks of wood, and cases of jewelry haphazardly scattered about, this trading post is no different. There are even uikin and gzrifs that people had traded tied up next to the outside entrance.
"Hello!" Damiana shouts loudly. "Is anyone here?!"
The trading post's main room is littered with objects yet void of life. A minute later a woman emerges from a backroom, presumably a storage closet. She grins widely. "Hello, dear children! What can I do for you?"
"Hi. We have a few very specific items that we're searching for. It is unlikely that we will find every single thing here, but if you could point us in the right direction, that would be great!"
"Okay. I can do that. What is it you need?"
"I will start with the simplest items. We need metal, preferably plirtkin or a plirtkin alloy. If you have it, we need pulk, and we also need paint."
The clerk jeers lightheartedly. "Do you even need to ask? Of course, I have all that! A group of Pages was in here just this morning. They traded away scrap metal and pulk paint for canteens and paring knives. I'm pretty sure they're here for some kind of training exercise. Good thing you came when you did. I wouldn't have had the pulk paint otherwise."
"Perfect! Thank you! How much will everything cost us?"
"There isn't much left. All of it is just leftover scrap. A yard of that blue fabric you're wearing will do. I have every color besides blue, so if you have any to offer, it will be my lucky day!"
Roy takes a moment to admire Damiana's sleeveless dress the color of sapphire blue. It billows at the waist, a sky-blue waistband holding it in place. She does have some fabric leftover. Several yards of sapphire blue from Prophet Veng as a wedding present, and a yard of sky blue from Tenna. Tenna had a few scraps of fabric left after she'd finished making clothes for herself and Caen and provided the rest to Damiana as a gesture of kindness. The girl frowns sadly, but still remove the yard of sky-blue from the bag she is carrying.
"Actually, I can give you four yards if you have anything else that we need. It isn't likely, but do you have a small quantity of ser, vengat, or perhaps a zirgnant?"
The clerk's jaw drops. "Sweet Fates! Asking somebody if they have access to a zirgnant is like asking if they can control the weather. I absolutely do not have a zirgnant! The only place to get one of those is the Capital, and even then, it will be a difficult venture. Vengat might also be difficult, but it shouldn't be as hard as finding a zirgnant. Try asking around once you arrive in Province Four. They have a pretty active black market where you should be able to get it."
"What about ser?" Roy pipes up.
A long, frustrated, groan is what follows. "Damn the Fates for guilting me out of lying! Yes. I do have a modest portion of ser. It isn't much, but much is never required. It's a powerful stone even in the smallest quantities. But it will cost you, and a heck of a lot more than four yards of fabric!"
"Four yards is all I have of the fabric, but I have an entire crate of bintlits that I can give you in addition. I know that root vegetables are difficult to come by in this province."
"A crate of bintlits and four yards of fabric is enough for the pulk paint, the plirtkin metal, and a quarter of the ser stone. For the full ser stone, I'm going to need more."
Roy sighs internally. Four yards of fabric and the weird, blue, potatoes are all Tenna and the Fire Lily Tribe gave them to trade with! This situation seems nothing short of hopeless. However, that is when the bow and the quiver strapped to his back suddenly weigh heavier. The archer freezes at the epiphany. He only has fourteen trick arrows and nine regular arrows. Considering how they're nearing the Capital City, and thus nearing the heart of the war, he will need them. There has to be something else to trade! Something besides his weapons!
"We don't have anymore," retorts Damiana. "At least nothing that can be spared."
"Really? What about that shiny Fire Phoenix armband you're wearing? It is very clear that you're married to that alien. You're wearing his Clan Symbol. That means that your Fire Phoenix armband is available for sale."
Never has rose-red turned to purple-streaked gray more quickly. Tears shine in her soot-colored eyes. "What? No! You can't ask me to give up my armband! It is the only thing I have left from my home! I used to be nobility from the Fire Phoenix Clan! It is my identity!"
"Now your identity lies with the alien that you're married to. No armband, no ser stone."
"You do realize who you're speaking to, don't you? I am a Noblewoman from the mighty Fire Phoenix Clan and a child prodigy. I can burn you to ashes where you stand. Don't toy with me."
Hair and eyes have converted into a blue so dark that it is nearly black. Roy can feel heat emanating from her skin although he stands two feet away. Truth be told, he has never found Damiana outright scary. Rude at first, feisty once he got to know her, and definitely bold when she needs to be, but scary? Never. Not until now.
"Are you threatening me? I will have the constable throw you out of town!"
"On what grounds? You have shown great disrespect to a Lady of Noble Class by asking her to sell the band bearing her Clan symbol! I have shown kindness to the civilians of each province that I have passed through, but not under these circumstances. Know your place with me!"
Damiana's curled tresses are becoming streaked with fire. The clerk is shuddering, her features turning black with terror. More on impulse than by conscious thought, Roy steps between the two women.
"If you would have taken two seconds to talk to me instead of my wife, you probably would've noticed that I have something that I can trade. What I have is much more valuable than a piece of jewelry." The archer shrugs the quiver off of his back and delves through it. It is difficult to decide, but Roy eventually removes a heat-seeking arrow. This is one that he is the least likely to utilize. "This is a weapon from Earth. It is called an arrow, and I designed it to be unique from other arrows. When it is shot from my bow, it seeks body heat, locks onto its target, and explodes. You will not find another weapon like this on the planet of Dabnod."
Thankfully, stepping between the two ladies did not cause him to end up in Damiana's line of fire. His teammate gradually becomes calmer. Her skin cools, the fiery streaks vanish from her curls, and midnight blue eventually fades. When the clerk picks up Roy's arrow and analyzes it, black eyes glow orange with fascination.
"An 'arrow'. I see. This is a human weapon?"
"Yes, but I can't give you my bow or my quiver. Just the arrow."
"Give me two of these arrows, and I will give you the pulk paint, the plirtkin metal, and the whole ser stone. You don't even have to give me the fabric and the bintlits. Just two of the arrows."
The archer pulls a punching glove arrow from his quiver, describes its purpose, and places it beside his heat-seeker. Stroking the arrows greedily, the woman grins.
"I can make a fortune off of these. Thank you, kind human! As for you, Lady Fire Phoenix, I offer you my humblest apologies. I beg you to leave me and my shop intact."
Damiana's expression is no longer enraged, granted, it remains stern. "Perhaps you are unfamiliar with Noble Clans and of the feats that our elemental abilities are capable of, so I forgive you. I will even give you the four yards of blue fabric as I promised to ensure that our trade is fair. Asking you to provide us with a ser stone is asking for a lot, which I understand." She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls openly. "Just watch your step. Most Nobles would destroy you and this trading post for requesting that they sell their Clan Symbol. You got off easy this time."
"Damiana, you must be more careful! Do not lose control of your temper, or the Fates will bring their wrath upon us!"
During the hour-long span that it has taken for herself and Roy to build a cast from tin and wire, word of the horrifying Noblewoman from the Fire Phoenix Clan has spread. Damiana just finished adjusting the charred fuel chamber into the cast, ensuring that it will be the proper size and fit for the new fuel chamber. This is when Tenna blows open their door with a furious blast of air. The owners of the inn in which they currently reside observe from the hallway. Fuming, Tenna stomps inside hers and Roy's shared bedroom.
The would-be Queen rolls her eyes, hands the cast to Roy, and walks toward her. "In my defense, that lady was out of line. Would you sell your Jawirth armband, regardless of how much you need the thing you're buying? Because that's what the lady at the trading post asked me to do. She asked me to sell my Fire Phoenix armband! That is incredibly offensive, especially since my armband bears the symbol of a Noble Clan!"
"I understand how absurd that woman's request was. What I don't understand is why you had to get so emotional and threaten to burn her to ashes! That was her claim, anyway. Did you actually threaten to burn that woman to ashes?!"
"I did. Maybe I went a little overboard, but my Fire Phoenix armband is the only piece of my identity that I have left. When you're on another planet one day, and the items that you have left from Dabnod are only the things that you can carry, you'll be attached to them too. Like your Jawirth armband. You will protect it with your life once Dabnod is gone!"
Tenna frowns deeply. "Just be careful with that temper of yours, okay? We need to travel quietly. We can't go around making a scene now that we're getting closer to the Capital."
"I understand."
"I doubt that very highly. You've never known the wrath of the Death Queen's monarchy." The mountaineer's posture is rigid as she marches toward the door. "Dinner will be ready in a few hours. Whatever you and Roy are doing to fix that device, I'll leave you to it. Besides, it is better that you're in here than outside wreaking havoc."
Damiana cannot help feeling annoyed. She helped the entire Province Seven by getting the blacksmith on their side and convincing them to prepare for the destruction of their planet. She also helped rescue that one family from the eighth province, not to mention Tenna and Caen themselves! After all the good that Damiana has done, it is immensely aggravating that losing her temper this one time is enough to make Tenna lecture her. She lost her temper on Earth quite frequently without consequences!
"Just ignore her, Dami. What's done is done. Let's just finish crafting the fuel chamber."
They do exactly this. After ensuring that the outer mold is as flawlessly accurate as possible, they begin on the inner mold. The tin and wire help them ensure that the cast is exactly the right size and shape. Ironically, Damiana is not sure what the Dabnodian element most closely related to "tin" is. She just knows that the thin, flimsy, metal sheets they are using are as flexible as tin, so that is what the girl chooses to call it.
"Alright. I can't imagine that we can make a cast better than this. Let's melt the plirtkin."
Manifesting the smallest, least volatile, flames that she can manage, Damiana melts the plirtkin scrap inside of a wooden bowl. They form a cone with an extra sheet of tin and use that to funnel the plirtkin into the mold once it is fully liquified. Waiting for it to harden is a lengthy process. Roy places the mold in a secure spot inside a window box overflowing with flowers. The refreshing, sea, breeze, and clammy soil should be a quick way to cool the molten fuel chamber.
"Can't we just use water?" the girl inquires.
"Probably not. I'm not sure how Dabnodian metals work, but metal on Earth is prone to cracking if it is cooled too quickly."
Now that the base has been made, figuring out the correct amount of paint to use is the key. There are still a few scraps of tin left. Roy and Damiana coat each of them in a different amount of paint and wait fifteen minutes for drying. Afterward, Damiana use her fire on them. There are five pieces in total. Pieces two and four have so much pulk that her fire is nullified. Pieces one and three have so little pulk that Damiana is able to obliterate the tin. Piece number five happens to possess the perfect amount, neither nullifying her fire nor obliterating the tin. The tin is hot to the touch afterward but is still intact.
The redhead smirks and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Well done. Once the fuel chamber is cool enough, we can use the fifth piece of scrap as a reference for painting the chamber. A new fuel chamber. Ingredient one out of three for the fuel source. Today has been a very productive day if I do say so myself."
"I think so too! To think, earlier at the library, you thought us fixing the rift machine was hopeless."
"Yes, but you almost killed the clerk, so that makes us even."
Damiana's first reaction is giving him the raspberry, which earns a hair tug from her teammate. A mere instant later, she pouts pensively. "Sacrificing two arrows was very nice of you. You didn't have to do that. I know that conserving your weapons is important."
"Not as important as getting back to our own time period in one piece. I can resupply on arrows once we're back on Earth, anyway. It's not like you can resupply on armbands. Your Fire Phoenix armband is the only one you will ever have."
Small, slender, fingers trace the outline of the Fire Phoenix spontaneously. Curls have turned the same shade of sapphire blue as her dress, and her eyes are the color of Earth's daytime sky. Two simple words usually do not mean much, but these words come from the bottoms of Damiana's hearts.
"Thank you."
Roy gives her tresses another mischievous pull. "You're welcome. Even if you had been willing to separate with your armband, I still wouldn't have let you. I know how much it means to you. It's so important that you choose to wear both armbands instead of just mine."
Silence ensues, but not of the uncomfortable variety. The duo sits side-by-side on their bed. This one is actually rather large – queen-sized if an estimation had to be made. One month ago, this bed would have made Damiana shiver in distress. This is especially true after the incident on their wedding night. Thankfully, this is not the case anymore. So many late-night talks have happened cuddled up next to each other in their tent on the road, and so many late-night jokes have been made beneath the covers of their temporary beds at inns, that sharing a bed is now wholly unintimidating.
A memory of the last bed they shared at an inn on the border of the seventh and sixth provinces strikes. Roy made a comment about how the gzrifs owned by the farmers creep him out. He said he gets an awful image in his brain every time he sees the lizard-like birds, this image being one of a chicken and a crocodile making a baby. This idea made her burst into laughter. When she'd explained that a chicken-crocodile spawn might look different from a gzrif, more like a crocodile in a chicken suit, he'd started laughing too. This annoyed Caen and Tenna. Caen's little voice asked what was so funny through the wall separating their rooms. Before either could answer, Tenna promptly shouted for them to be quiet.
As pleasant as each of these events has felt, this moment feels different. There is nothing humorous about it. Roy looks her deep in the eye. So strong is his gaze that Damiana is utterly unable to turn away. His hand covers hers. For the first time since their wedding day, the girl takes notice of how handsome the redhead appears in his new, colorful, tunic. It is forest green, the same color as the streaks flecking his irises. It hasn't felt at all cold in weeks, so the tunic is short-sleeved. Upper arms bulge with muscle, and forearms are so toned that a vein is seen. Razors are practically nonexistent on Dabnod. While Roy is far too young to grow a full beard, there is a minuscule tuft of hair growing on his upper lip. Aqualad would cruelly call it a caterpillar. Damiana thinks that it appears slightly rugged.
She isn't sure where the urge comes from, but it is overwhelming. Today is different somehow because, on any other day, Damiana would have shoved the urge away. Right now, however, the girl does exactly the opposite. She places tiny hands on either side of Roy's face while his free hand plants itself into her curls. The person who moves first is impossible to determine. Regardless, the result is the same. The teens embrace each other in a wet, open-mouthed, long overdue, kiss.
Damiana sighs delightedly at the pleasant feel of the redhead's tongue in her mouth and sucks his lower lip in response. One hand reaches up so that it trails through Roy's ginger locks. A deep, satisfied, grunt is Roy's reaction. His tongue dances with hers while tracing her lower lip, and he explores every inch of her mouth. The archer gently massages her back. Damiana moans at the sensation. Roy groans again, this time huskily. When Damiana takes over by sucking and nibbling on his lower lip, and then by sucking his tongue, a third groan emerges. No longer thinking, instead only acting, Damiana pulls away from his lips and moves to his neck. The girl manages a scant five kisses and twenty seconds of sucking and nibbling before they end up laying down atop the covers.
The archer clearly isn't thinking either, because he is straddling her and giving many long, rough, kisses to her neck. Damiana manages to gasp his name but is unable to say anything else. Eventually, Roy returns to her mouth where they resume the openmouthed kissing. The girl's tiny hands touch Roy's upper arms, chest, and back of their own accord. While running an index finger along his spine, Damiana gently sucks and nibbles Roy's tongue. Then, while tracing pecs and abs with one hand and holding onto him with the other, she desperately kisses his collar bone. Her name is gasped from Roy's lips in a hiss. The fact that he speaks her Dabnodian name rather than her Earth alias makes her entire body feel like fire.
It happens in a blur that neither one of them can explain later, but Roy's forest-green tunic meets the floor. All that's left are his black pants and stockings. Damiana begins kissing his chest. Expletives leave his lips and, without any protest from the Noble Lady, a hand meets one of her breasts. The sapphire blue dress is fully adorned. Yet, even though fabric, her breast being touched feels good in a way that she'd never before considered. Three brand-new thoughts flash through her mind all at the same moment. First is that the same, familiar, poking from her wedding night is felt, and she doesn't care. The second is that the same, bizarre, moisture from the night they performed language transference is present between her legs, and it is nearly impossible to ignore. The third is that, if her dress fell to the floor, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
"Roy, Damiana, it's time for dinner!"
Tenna's voice echoes loudly from outside the door. It's as if they are splashed with cold water because the reality of what they are doing strikes them full force. Roy is shirtless with a hand squeezing his fellow Titan's breast. Meanwhile, Damiana's mouth is on Roy's neck with both hands resting on his rear. Tresses and irises turn neon green. When did her hands go there?!
It is Roy that answers. "We'll be out in a minute, Tenna! We're just…experimenting!"
"You're still experimenting with that paint? For crying out loud! Maybe you should have kept reading until finding a chart with specific quantities." Retreating footsteps are heard as her voice fades. "Come to dinner whenever you're ready. I will leave plates in the pantry for you if you miss it."
A/N: Thank you for reading! Whether it is a glowing compliment or constructive criticism, I am very interested in hearing what you think of this chapter. I tried speeding up the pacing just a little bit. Overall, I think this chapter turned out well. Especially because I finally got to the part where they start fixing their only gateway home. Hopefully, the parts they need to fix the rift machine, as well as the descriptions of how they're repairing it, are easy to comprehend. Hopefully, their path of travel is easy to comprehend as well. Passing through Province Eight, Seven, and Six all in one chapter was a lot to cram in, for which I apologize.
Additionally, I kind of enjoyed writing the sexy scenes for Roy and Damiana. I'm trying to write it in a way that is believable. Teenagers are usually pretty awkward and are filled with hormones, which I tried to reflect on in my writing. A lot of other authors write lovemaking scenes between adolescents way too smoothly without any adorable awkwardness or spontaneity. Did you enjoy the makeout session and their wedding night, or do you think I should lay off the romance just a little bit? I enjoy your feedback!
I Will post another chapter when I am able. Thank you again for reading! :)
Forever and always,
~OCQ