Khein was feeling restless for the first time in ages. He'd asked to be part of the team, fully expecting his brother to refuse and for them to have an argument about it, but he'd agreed. That had taken the wind out of Khein's sails, and he'd packed up some supplies for the journey and then wandered around in a daze, not sure why Zarien agreed or whether he should be worried that he did agree.
Then, when dinner time came around, he'd hardly been able to eat and had only made a pretense of moving his food around his plate before excusing himself. He was also feeling slightly uneasy for another reason. Talfas was the other person who'd been chosen to go, and he'd always been one of the most easygoing, gentle, and understanding people Khein had ever met. And yet, for some reason, whenever Talfas got close to him, Khein could feel his internal shields going up. He just could not bring himself to like the man.
It was getting late, but still he wandered, not feeling like he could sleep right then even if he tried. Eventually, his wanderings took him to one of the night gardens, and just inhaling the fragrance of the night-blooming blossoms made him feel more at peace. This was undoubtedly one of the most enchanting places in all of Vane. He stopped, looking around at all the flowers, nodding his head at the exquisiteness of even the ones that were no bigger than one of his fingernails, and then he saw something there than he wasn't expecting.
There was a woman of his kind sleeping underneath a tree, and he had no idea who she was. That was strange; though he might not be more than acquaintances with most, the magic folk were not so numerous that he wouldn't be able to recognize them at the very least. Khein wondered for a moment if it might be a vision brought on by tiredness and the abundant flower fragrances. He decided not; most of the magic folk women abstained from touching anything with a blade bigger than a kitchen knife. This woman had a sword. He could think of no reason that he would dream of such a thing.
Khein frowned; it would be rude of him to wake her when she was so obviously content with her surroundings, but with the events that had been happening lately, he didn't think he could simply let something out of the ordinary pass by unremarked. He moved closer and, though he was certain he had made no sound, her eyes slowly opened.
"Well, what do we have here?" she said softly, her eyes glinting in amusement. "Are things so bad that we're going in for night patrol now? In the flower gardens? Certainly, you'll find lots of nefarious intruders there."
"Well, you're here," Khein said, feeling defensive, "and I don't know who you are."
"No, I guess not. Circumstances have not permitted me to visit here in a long time. Too long. I had a half brother here, once, but he's long since passed on," she said, glancing up at the light of stars filtering through the tree branches. "My name is Marina. Marina Dallime'yre."
Something was familiar about that family name, but Khein couldn't quite recall what it was. Maybe it was something he'd studied in history? "And mine is Khein Verdeveile. But that still doesn't explain what you're doing here," he persisted, then frowned. "Why are you laughing?"
"My blood relatives... They always seem to pick on me," Marina said with a smile. "Verdeveile. That was my own half brother's surname. So, we're relatives of a sort. But you wanted to know what I was doing here. Sleeping, or trying to, is the obvious answer. Why here? I have to be somewhere if I'm going to help retrieve the shield."
"My brother did not name you in the contingent." Khein was quite certain of that. After all, part of the reason he'd been wandering around was trying to forget who he was going with.
"No, I'm afraid Ember and Lark Ausa are taking responsibility for my naming," she replied. "Ember knew where to find me, and Lark confirmed it, so... I hope you don't mind."
"I guess... not," Khein said, not sure where to take the conversation from there. The silence stretched for a moment and, finally, he asked, "Can you use that sword?"
"I'm not a dedicated practitioner, but I do know a significant amount more than which end to cut with. I suppose you do, too. I don't imagine you got those calluses from a garden hoe when a little bit of earth magic can have the same effect."
"Great. Maybe you can back me up on the journey, then. Telfas won't touch a sword. Telfas is too kind to touch one," Khein said disgustedly. "But I never see him turn down a meat dish, so he's obviously not too noble to eat the animals others have prepared."
Marina raised an eyebrow. "Really? Do you resent him?"
"Resent him? No. I just don't... like him," Khein said, gritting his teeth. "And what makes it worse is that I can't figure out why."
"It may be without base, and it may not be, but you won't let the irritation overwhelm your capability to act, will you?"
"Of course not! This is more important. I know that," Khein snapped, then sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just... This is a lot to take in. Retrieving something like the shield must mean that Lunar is heading for some rough times. I don't know if I'm ready for that. I don't know if anyone is."
"It's rare for people to be truly ready for life's challenges. We've just got to do our best with what we have. Maybe it won't reassure you, but... Sometimes, you find that you have hidden reserves of strength that even you may not be aware of," Marina said, then in a whisper so low, Khein couldn't have sworn he heard it right followed that with, "I know I did."
Earlier that evening, just before the docks closed in Meribia, a small ship barely bigger than a couple of rafts sailed into port, and the sight made the dock workers stare for, except for a figure swathed in grey manning the helm, all of the rest of the crew consisted of small, tiny winged creatures.
"Pixies," said one man, almost losing his smoking pipe in shock. "I'd heard tales of 'em, but I never thought to actually see even one, let alone that many."
"And who's that person with 'em? Can't even see more of the face than the eyes," said another.
"I don't know, but I wouldn't want to mess with 'im. Those are the eyes of someone who has been to edge of death and come back with the horrors of beyond still clingin' to 'im."
If the man in grey noticed that he was the subject of their conversation at all, he gave no sign; he continued helping the pixies dock the boat securely, moving back and forth with an enviable agility. Once they were finished, the pixies all gathered around him. Apparently, it was some kind of instruction as to where to meet him, for they scattered in all directions, only two of them staying behind to ride on his shoulders, one on each side.
His feet hardly made a sound as he went down the gangway and then crossed the dock to stand in front of the gossiping men, who shifted uneasily at his close proximity. In a voice that cracked, popped, and grated in a way that no human voice was ever meant to, he asked, "Is the Crafty Peg Leg still serving the best brews and vintages in the world?"
"S... sure. The 'keep just got a new shipment from Riviera yesterday. Everyone knows Captain Arek only takes the best cargo, so it hasta be good," one man said, chewing on the stem of his pipe nervously.
"That's the best news I've heard in a long time." The man's eyes shifted to the two pixies that still accompanied him. "That doesn't mean you two will be getting any."
The one on his right shoulder, a boy with a riot of red hair and green wings whined, "Aw... Why not? We've been good and everything."
"Because, silly. We've got to keep a level head. We don't want to cause him trouble," said the other pixie, a girl with long black hair and bright blue wings.
Then, to the dock men, the grey man said, "I probably won't be coming back this way for a while, so I'd appreciate it if you took good care of my ship."
Upon saying so, he stretched a gloved hand out and opened it, revealing some silver coins of fairly large denominations. "If it's fit for sailing when I or someone calling on my behalf returns, then there will be an equal amount coming to you. Is it agreed?"
"Yeah... Agreed," one of the dock men replied, reaching out to take the coins. "Now, what name should we be holding it under, Mr...?"
"Grey," he answered simply before nodding to each of them and continuing down the path towards the tavern.
When he was out of earshot, the dock workers let out a sigh of relief. "I see what ya' meant about the eyes. Whatever'd do that to a man, I don't want to know about it."
The man who called himself Grey sat on a stool at the bar while the pixies fluttered down to rest on the countertop. He motioned to the barkeeper and, trying to keep the grating of his voice down to a minimum, ordered a glass of wine for himself and shotglasses of fruit juice for the pixies. After paying for the items, he took a sealed letter out of his pocket and placed it on the table. "If one of you or one of your customers happens to be heading to Althena's Temple, I'd like this to be delivered there. There's no rush... Just knowing that it will get there is enough for me."
"I'll see that it's done," the barkeeper said, taking the envelope and secreting it somewhere underneath the counter.
"Thank you," Grey said, reaching up to adjust the wrappings on his lower face enough to allow him to drink. He tilted the glass, taking a sip and savoring the taste on his tongue. It tasted better than he remembered. Odd that. According to the tales he'd heard, things were never supposed to be as good as you remembered them. Nevertheless, he appreciated the fact that it was of such fine quality. It was just the thing he needed to unwind a little before setting off again. He had a feeling that he'd have little opportunity in the near future to sample such joys. There was a storm brewing, and unless he told the right people about it, they'd have no idea of what was about to hit them.