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WoV, Book 1, Chapter 3: The Desert's Rose
🕑 Added 2025-01-06 20:32:36 +0000 UTC“Well, I s’pose that’s where we part ways then.” The end of the ride had been a quiet one. Every passenger having either gawked at the slums, looked at them with profound sadness and regret, or carefully constructed neutrality.
The wagon had then stopped at the gate of Nald, one of the massive gatehouses built into the wall. Brendt had stayed on, apparently the entire wagon (a rented one, if the East Aldenard emblem on it was any indication) was filled with his products, not just the traveling pack at his feet and the trunk at the back. Apparently there was space under their feet full of goods, and he was to bring them to the market so they could be sold as soon as the sun came up tomorrow.
In other words, they were being kindly asked to get off so that capitalism could march on.
“And to enjoy that kumis, too.” Neil chuckled at Brendt’s shooing as he hopped off. He had a backpack, a staff and no fucking idea where he was going. “Which way’s the thaumaturges?”
“As eager as someone he'd pick up would be,” The merchant mumbled, before pointing to Neil’s right, “Ye'll want to follow the thoroughfare that way, past the Gate of the Sultana. All the way to the Ossuary. Lookin’ at the time, I'd guess their doors will be closin’ soon. If the man that sent ye this way didn't forget to give ye a token of introduction, ye’ll want to present it.”
It took a bit of rummaging around guided by foreign muscle memory, but soon enough he had a bronze medallion clutched in his hand, “This thing, right?”
“I have no idea!” Brendt said with a laugh, “The Thaumaturges are a mysterious and odd kind. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if they opened the door to ye if you made enough of a ruckus outside.”
“Bouncing lightning between my hands as plan B, got it.” Neil snorted, shaking his head and spinning on his heel to face the cat. The motion felt oddly smooth, but he could feel the creeping shadow of a migraine the moment he pondered that. So… he didn’t, “Hey, Kofle, where are you going? I want to sort this out asap, but I owe you a drink at minimum.”
“Hm? Oh, uh. I'm going straight ahead,” Shrugging, the cat pointed at the building facing the entrance.
Like every other of the tall buildings around, it had a large domed roof. But looked a fair bit fancier thanks to having enough decorated banners hanging down its walls that both hands and feet were required to count them. The fountain at its base also helped.
“That's the Quicksands. It's the local branch of the adventurers guild, but it's also an inn. So I was gonna get a room to rent for the next… week? Or so,” Rubbing her eyes, she yawned, and kept going far beyond what a human mouth should ever do. Lots of teeth, very cattish, very cute, “‘f you wanna buy me a drink, feel free to show up in the evenings or something. Otherwise… I think I'll be either here picking up jobs in the morning, or over at the Blood Sands’ Gladiator Guild.”
“Got it! Tell me if you hop into the arena proper, I’ll make time to come watch.” Neil said with a smile and a thumbs up. Bloodsports, his beloved. “Take care and try to get some actual rest, those crystals did you less favors than me.”
All he got in return was a non-committal hum. This time the unwelcome flashback was from his actual memories. Thankfully, this time there wasn’t a screen and an ocean in the way of being a pest. He’d still give a stay of execution because the cat was clearly dead on her feet.
“As for us,” The twink spoke up, looking away from the map he'd pulled out the moment that he had gotten off the wagon, “Our accommodations are located at the ‘Onyx Lane’. It seems to be at the gate of Thal, rather than Nald.”
“I'm not certain we will meet again, but,” Taking a step forward, the sister gave both Kofle and Neil a small bow, “It was an entertaining, and informative, ride. Best of luck with your future endeavors.”
“Likewise! Swing by the Ossuary anytime, I’ll see if I can’t give you a tour.” Neil replied, leaning on his staff. The twins wanted to experience Eorzea and religion was a huge part of any region.
“I'd much rather not have cause to visit, to be perfectly honest,” Alphinaud chuckled awkwardly before pausing in thought, “Then again. We are here to pay homage to grandfather…”
With a last wave of goodbyes, the twins left, the brother of the two still deep in thought as he wove through the crowd. Kofle did much the same, only with an added jaw-dislocating yawn. Which left Neil to head off, following Brendt’s directions and hoping he’d get there before the doors closed.
Ul’dah was… packed would be one way to describe it. They didn’t have anywhere near the population density of his homecity, but they sure as hell all seemed determined to pour out into the streets as the afternoon dragged into dusk. At least the roads were fat, probably to accommodate for carts, so it didn’t feel all that oppressive.
Most went about their own lives and paid absolutely no mind to him, but a few peered with surprise and curiosity. Probably had foreigner written all over him, especially with having kept up with the dress style of the steppes (ugh). It did look nice, now that Neil looked without a migraine drilling into his brain. Sturdy leather, comfortable cloth, and a fair few beads and feathers adding some color and life to it. Unfortunately, nice outfit or not, he’d have to get something more in tune with the area as soon as possible. Looking out of place in a city like this was bad business, for one. For another, while the desert heat had yet to actually bother him now that he thought about it, sand would be a whole different story.
Desert or tundra, dress like the locals or suffer.
Pushing the thoughts aside as he continued on his path, he found his eyes drawn to the floating blue crystals dotted around. They were about the height of his torso if a fair bit fatter, hovering over a small pedestal each. Whatever they were, people clustered around them, keeping him from getting a good look at whatever was going on. Ah, well, he had places to be.
Like the huge fucking gate nearly identical to the one the wagon had entered through, dedicated to the Sultana according to the signs that he had to squint at to read. The letters were both completely foreign yet vaguely familiar, making the whole thing feel like he was parsing through italian through the power of latinate commonality. A bit of a pain in the ass but it sure beat being unable to read the local language.
More importantly, though, having reached the Sultangate or however Brendt had called it meant he was a stone throw away from the Ossuary. Lo and behold–
There it stood. Easily as large as some of the gothic cathedrals of his homecity, done up in monolithic black stone lined with gold. The architects and stonemasons sure knew what they were doing to let the place stand out.
…Admittedly, it also looked like the place a demon king would lounge while waiting for a duel of the fates with the prophesied hero, but that only really meant they had taste.
Walking up to the doors, he saw that they weren't made out of stone like it had seemed at a distance. They were evenly charred wood with a varnish to resemble their surroundings. They were also, unfortunately, closed. But he could hear shuffling feet and muffled conversations behind them, so he hazarded a knock..
Whoever designed this door had apparently decided building a resonance box into it would be hilarious, because it sounded more like a mech pounding on the door than little old him. The shuffling didn’t stop in the least, but he could hear a pair of feet make their way to the door, “Who reaches for these hallowed halls in this late a bell?” A cleverly disguised slide opened, revealing a pair of eyes boring into Neil’s.
“A wayward soul from distant lands.” He replied without missing a single beat, holding up the bronze medallion. He knew how these people worked from that sentence alone.
The eyes narrowed at the sight of the medallion and studied it for a time… “We’re closed.”
With that, whoever was behind the door slid the panel closed. Leaving Neil alone in the streets, holding the medallion as a slight breeze blew through his hair.
“...Well, shite.”
There was a bit more shuffling, as well as some muffled words on the other side of the door. Just as Neil was mentally counting his money for a stay at the Quicksands, the sound of a lock amplified by the resonance chambers of the door pulled him out of his thoughts, “Greetings child,” A smaller door hidden in the huge gates glided open, revealing an elf. One that unlike the twins had some height to her name. Towering over him by a good… half a meter. Goddamn, “I was told that you possessed a medallion, fashioned from bronze, bearing the mark of the Twins. Might I ask you to allow me to examine it?”
Placing a hand on her chest, she extended the other, clearly expecting her request to be granted. She was right, too, getting the medallion not a moment later. Neil just quietly thanked the lessons he learned during puberty for letting him keep his composure.
Which was good, given the things running through his skull right now. The elf’s black robes covered most of her body, but her face straddled the line between youthful and mature as she looked down at the medallion with lidded eyes.
Pulling his eyes away from her, he could see someone else behind her. A much, much younger elf, probably as young as the twins, if not more, kicking at the floor and pouting. The two shared the same vividly orange hair. The girl’s was short, unstyled and messy, while her elder’s was tied into a long, neat braid that looped around her neck to her front.
Speaking of the woman, she’d moved from simply looking at the disk of metal to manipulating it. Turning it this way and that, rubbing the designs etched into it, “Hmmm, it appears genuine.” She eventually spoke… before encasing the entire thing in a ball of flame the size of her head.
Neil opened his mouth, thought about it, and shut it with a click. Yeah, no, if those memories of Gankma held any truth it definitely tracked that the way to verify the damn thing was setting it on fire. Or, well, whatever the elf was doing since she’d already said it seemed genuine.
The sudden show of pyromania caused the child to jump in surprise, “Wha–! Mom?!”
Closing her hand around the disk of metal, the elder knife ears snuffed out the flame instantly, leaving only wisps of smoke. Those dissipated with a shake of her fist, and when she reopened it, the disk was completely fine– aside from the fact it was now shining and gold, “Genuine it is then. The Arrzaneth Ossuary, and the order of Nald’thal, thank you for bringing this item to our care,” She said with a small bow, “I am afraid that the rewards for such that I am able to offer you are limited in scope. But it would be my pleasure to hear your request, should you possess any.”
“Priest Gankma advised me to request an apprenticeship under Void Hunter Cocobuki to deal with my… condition.” Neil replied with matching formality as he let the foreign memories take the lead entirely. Wordlessly, he stuck his staff to the ground with a small bloom of ice, taking two wide steps away from it.
Immediately, ozone tickled his tongue. That bundle of power in his chest radiating outwards without his say-so like a plasma ball, peeking past his skin in the form of skittering purple lightning. A halfhearted attempt to reign it in simply had the ozone replaced by spice, cinders flickering in the heat haze suddenly surrounding him. When he sighed ruefully, it was a plume of dark smoke, a tongue of fire flickering over his own.
Neil wasn’t sure how someone with nearly closed eyes could blink owlishly, but the elf matron certainly managed, “I… see. Void Hunter Cocobuki you say?” “But Cocobuki’s–” “Shush Orliane,” The mother silenced her child with a tut, “I will see what I can do. But I am afraid the Void Hunter is currently unavailable due to a family dinner. May I be as indiscreet as asking for your sleeping accommodations? I would like to send someone to fetch you as soon as they are available in the morrow.”
“I will get a room in the Quicksands for the night, then.” Neil said as he picked his staff back up, breathing easier now that his… aether, was it? Now that it was stable again and not liable to cause an explosion if he sneezed. He’d have to sleep cuddling the damn thing to not start a fire.
“Oh my, I apologize,” The matron dithered, resting her head against her palm, “I’d been under the belief you already had a place to rest. I would be delighted to offer you a home for the night my dear. There would be no need to trouble yourself with walking back to an inn, and I dare believe that the meeting with Cocobuki would be much faster to prepare this way.”
The outworlder smiled in relief, this time the sigh coming out without any elemental power. “Thank you! I will be in your care.”
“Ara~? How polite of you. If only my dear Orliane could be so polite,” The kid in question pouted and grumbled harder as her mother moved to the side to let him pass through, “But please, come in.”
Forget controlling his magic, keeping his composure was the real trial.
Crossing the threshold of the temple, Neil felt incredibly good all of a sudden. Nothing related to the gutter his mind was rolling in happy as a pig, but rather like a huge weight had been wrenched off his shoulders with no warning.
“This way please,” He wasn’t given any time to think on it, as the matron led him deeper into the building. Past the entrance, a number of people, wearing the same style of black robe as the elf, were putting away pews, candle sticks and a variety of other assorted religious tools. Those that noticed the trio all stared at them– at least until someone called them out for not doing their part, “The last mass of the day,” His guide told him, before leaning down and whispering something to her daughter, who scoffed before stomping off.
“Haaaaaa~, whatever will I do with this child?” Watching her go through a side door, the elf returned to the pose as when she’d first invited him in, “I must apologize for her conduct. These medallions are part of a tradition discontinued a decade ago, you see. I’d known teenagers were rather moody, but never expected this when I had her.”
“I would say I didn’t give my own mother any grief, but starting a fire every time I sneezed probably outweighed how much I clung to her like a limplet. Especially because she’s a seamstress.” Ugh, the two sets of memories were swirling up into a mindfuck cocktail. He had never outgrown his love for fire and smoke, just learned some impulse control. He had also always been a huge momma’s boy, from four to twenty five. His mother was also so tiny he could lift her with a single arm.
The issue was that now he had two different faces popping up when he thought ‘mom’. Given the medallion… no, none of that. He had enough on his plate already.
“I can only imagine,” The matron chuckled, deep and rich like fine wine and Neil was cutting that line of thought right there, “Mine has yet to set anything on fire. But she’s cut open more than one man with her sharp tongue. She must take it from her father… Ah, we’ve arrived.”
Rounding a small corner, the two of them were right in front of a set of hefty doors. Some sort of symbol carved into them. The woman pushed one open and invited him to step inside, which he did without giving it a thought…
Something that he regretted slightly when he found himself in a tilled changing room, the door closing behind him with a foreboding *click*.
Oh no.
“You must be exhausted,” The elf woman said as she led him towards one of the benches by the shoulders, “Coming into town at this hour– I can only imagine how your time on the road was with your clothes in such a foul state,” Pushing him down, she had him sit before pulling away, “I’m had my Orilane prepare a bed for you. While she does, I’ll be sure to pamper you~.”
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
