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In The Mist Of The Erie Isles

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Twenty-Four: Enmity

Arching her back, the young woman stretches as she gradually awakens. She lay atop a thick, cloth blanket, which barely shields her from the dampness of the ground. With her gaping maw, the woman yawns, her chest heaving. Spindly arms squeeze her waist, causing her eyes to widen. Her wild hair swings away from her head as she swiftly turns it, looking back and over her shoulder. Lying beside the Jaliscan and clinging tightly to her slender form is Mairlynn, the childlike, Falmun woman. How long as the diminutive elf been cuddling up to her like this?

Reaching a hand down, the grimacing Jarae grabs hold of Mairlynn's wrist with a thumb and index finger, cringing slightly as she peels the elven woman's arm away from her waist. With a little groan, the youthful looking elf rolls onto her other side, still sleeping quite peacefully. Her shimmering, pink eyes shift as she scans the interior of Sovik's hut, the dwelling of the old elven doctor whom they met the previous night. Gazing upon his peaceful form as he lies beside the central firepit, Irzain continues to sleep, lost in his potion induced dream-state.

Listening to the crackling of the fire, she can see Sovik's form opposite the flames. He stirs a wooden ladle within the modest, bubbling cauldron, humming a little tune to himself as he prepares a lovely smelling stew. Mairlynn inches backward, pushing herself against Jarae, who slowly and carefully wriggles away from her, eager to distance herself from the elf.

“I think she just likes feeling someone near her..."

Turning her attention toward the voice, Jarae stares directly at Kirsta. Sitting upright and atop a hard, wooden platform, her back is pushed against a wall, her elegant figure covered in a simple blanket. It appears to the Jaliscan that the human woman had slept where she sits, likely watching the door throughout the night. Turning her face away from the doorway, Kirsta's sapphire eyes land upon Jarae's shimmering, pink spheres; the pair share a gaze. A strange smile graces Kirsta's face, an odd expression that's somewhere between true peace and feigned happiness.

“After you fell asleep, she curled up to you. She was worried you'd be mad, but after we heard you mumbling, she thought it might make you feel better." Kirsta continues.

“I-I was mumbling?"

Jarae's eyes widen, a tension forming in her chest. It's as if an icy gauntlet has reached into her ribcage, chilling her lungs and leaving a frost covering her heart. Is it possible that they've learned what she dreams about?!

“Oh, yes!" Sovik chirps, lifting the ladle from the cauldron.

“We couldn't make out anything you were saying, if you were saying anything at all, but you didn't sound happy." Kirsta adds.

“Oh..." Jarae breathes a silent sigh of relief.

“Don't fault her; Mairlynn seemed concerned for you."

“And besides, who doesn't enjoy the warmth of another during the night? When my wife was alive – may the Seraph's guard her soul – I so loved holding her." Sovik remarks.

“I just don't like being touched without my consent... That's all..." Jarae scoots further away from Mairlynn.

“Understandable." Sovik nods.

“Just be grateful she hasn't decided that she likes women, too." Kirsta chuckles.

“Yeah... So, what's the plan?" Jarae asks, moving from the blanket and sitting beside Sovik.

“Breakfast!" He chirps, pouring her a bowl of stew.

“... I meant after that."

Throwing the blanket aside, Jarae is surprised to see that Kirsta holds her loaded crossbow pistol, her leather armor still adorning her body. The female warrior has made no effort to increase her comfort, as the others had before they slept. In fact, Jarae can't be sure that Kirsta has even slept at all. She takes the few steps away from the wall and toward the central firepit, taking a seat mere inches from Irzain's feet. Holding out a hand and waving with her fingers, she motions for Sovik to pass her a bowl. He fills it with stew before reaching past the fire, a warm smile on the old man's face.

“Thank you." She bows her head.

“Of course." He nods back.

“Well..." Kirsta pauses to sip some of the stew. “I suppose we should make sure that Steingar and Valan aren't in any trouble. You know how men can be without us around."

“Unfortunately..." Jarae murmurs, turning her eyes toward the fire.

“Once I let them know, I'll bring them back with me and we can wait for Irzain to wake up."

“And what if that takes a long time? ... I mean, Sovik himself said he wasn't sure how long he'd be out!" Jarae remarks.

“I suppose if it's too much trouble for you to wait, you could go back to the Arona-Dahl and let Trellan know what's going on. I'm sure he's worrying about us by now."

Sitting on the main deck, Trellan relaxes in a special chair he'd constructed years earlier. With a series of hinges installed, it allows the chair to fold flat. With a fishing rod in hand, the old elf sits in his chair, wearing naught but his underwear. Betwixt his legs is a small bottle, filled with mead, a drink commonly drunk by the Helngar of the mainland. He lifts the bottle and takes a sip, the bottle in one hand and fishing rod in the other.

“Ahh, I missed this..." Trellan sighs.

Back in Sovik's hut, Jarae nods her head.

“Yes, he does tend to worry. I just don't want to be here anymore."

“Neither do I." Kirsta adds.

“What's wrong with Bremen?!" Sovik asks.

“... Nothing!" Jarae replies, turning her eyes away.

“We've just grown used to our ship, that's all."

“Mmm-good morning!" Mairlynn chirps, stretching as she finally awakens. “Something smells heavenly!"

“It's my specialty! I made it all the time before my late wife forced me to eat 'real food'. As good a cook as she was, I often missed the dishes I'd prepare for myself, when I was just another worthless bachelor." Sovik explains.

Scooting away from the blanket and sitting beside Jarae, Mairlynn looks up, smiling warmly at the Jaliscan. Jarae can only raise a brow as the elf stares so innocently at her with her ruby eyes.

“... What?"

“Did you sleep well?!" Mairlynn asks.

“Eh..." Jarae grumbles.

“Oh... I wondered if maybe that would help. You sounded like you were having nightmares last night." Mairlynn remarks.

“So I was told..." Jarae sighs, feeling the embarrassment returning.

“I, uhm, I'm sorry if I startled you when you woke up."

“It's alright..." The Jaliscan mutters, taking a sip of her bowl of stew.

“It was just nice having someone there, and you were very warm... ... I didn't even fondle you, even though your breasts are much better than mine!" The elf chirps.

Jarae coughs as she tries to sip more of her stew, splashing the broth over her snout and the side of the bowl, soaking the fur on her fingers. She looks back at the Falmun woman who seems to gaze at the Jaliscan's ample chest, her ruby eyes narrowed in a combination of envy and lust. To Kirsta's and Sovik's amusement, Jarae slowly scoots even further away from the elven woman.

“What?! They are!" Mairlynn grins wider.

After eating their breakfast, Sovik collects their bowls and Kirsta readies for her hike. She checks her weapons and the waterskin that hangs from her belt, before heading for the door.

“I'll be back, shortly. If he decides to wake up, make sure he doesn't run off in search of himself, like the idiot he is." Kirsta smirks.

“He isn't going anywhere." Jarae assures her.

“Yeah. I'll straddle his pelvis and hold him down for you." Mairlynn winks.

“That's not a mental image I needed!" Jarae growls at the dainty elf.

“But it's an imagine I need." Mairlynn smirks. “Oh, and tell the studs that I miss them!"

With a little chuckle, Kirsta leaves Sovik's hut, making her way back to the first town. With any luck, she'll be there in little more than an hour. Meanwhile, opening his eyes and taking a deep breath, Steingar turns his head, looking toward the faintly blue window of his rented room. The sunlight trickles in through the translucent material, illuminating his humble and temporary abode. Somehow, as he rises from the bed, he finds himself missing the cot within his cabin, aboard the Arona-Dahl. That strange ship and her innerworkings of steam pipes and onyx plates, their purpose unknown to him, has already become so familiar.

Maybe it's his years of service? After all, he'd been a soldier since he was sixteen, the average age for most who join or are forced into the military, as he was. Stretching out his back, he rises from the bed and collects his clothes, slowly dressing himself. Stepping into the hallway, he makes his way toward the bar. Though the morning is waning, the dining hall is relatively clear; only a few patrons sit and drink or eat a meal prepared by the barkeep. Leaning against the far end of the bar, nearest the staircase, Sira sees him approaching, her tall ears perking. She waves to him, a little smile spreading across her lips and curling around her short snout.

“Hi." She chirps.

“Hello." He replies, standing beside her.

“I'm sorry about yesterday. I-"

“Hey there!" The barkeep interrupts. “What'll it be this morning?"

“Whatever you're cooking." Steingar points toward the large, bubbling cauldron that hangs over the flames, within the stone fireplace. “It smells great."

“Of course!"

Without waiting for Sira to continue, Steingar heads for a corner table. The young, Jaliscan prostitute follows behind, which he instantly notices. He grabs hold of a chair, pulling it out for her before taking the adjacent seat. Turning his glowing, golden eyes toward her as he makes himself more comfortable, Steingar is struck by an unnerving sight. With her clawed hands planted firmly atop the tabletop, Sira winces as she very slowly sits in the chair, visibly pained. He instantly realizes that she must be sore from the long and repeated intercourse she had with Rian and Dian the day before. It simultaneously elicits pity, while making his blood boil from jealousy.

“Nnnn..." She whimpers as she slowly sits down. “Okay... So, as I was saying. I-"

“No need." He interrupts her.

“Huh?"

Footsteps draw their attention. The barkeep approaches with a wooden platter, placing it atop the table and presenting two bowls of stew, two spoons, a plate of several slices of bread for dipping, two empty mugs and a pitcher of ale. After passing the barkeep a coin, he promptly scampers back to his post, returning Steingar's and Sira's privacy.

“... But I left you yesterday, without any real warning. I just want you to know why I did what I did. You see-"

“I already know... The barkeep told me all about it..." He explains, passing her a bowl of stew.

“H-he did?!" Sira gasps.

“Yeah... That's some experiment you're conducting..."

Steingar glares at her, seeing the anger and shame written all over her face. It takes all of his strength to remind him not to judge her so harshly; his expression softens.

“Damn you, Daz, you loudmouth bastard..." She grumbles, shaking her head. “Well, I hope you understand why I'm doing it, at least... Why I took off so quick, and walked around the room; I couldn't risk them knowing that I wasn't being faithful to our deal. It's nothing personal, you see!"

“I understand..." He replies, pouring her a mug of ale.

“Oh, good." She sighs. “That's a weight off my shoulders!"

“Maybe... Ever since yesterday, I've been thinking." He begins, taking a deep breath.

“Oh?" She smiles, cocking her head curiously.

“Yeah. I've told you a bit about myself. We all have a past, but... Sira..."

“... Yes?" She leans closer.

“If I was to tell you that you didn't need to do what you do... What would you say?"

“Probably, 'what would I do instead'." She answers with a little chuckle.

“Anything but this."

Sira's smile fades. She looks deeply into Steingar's eyes, her shimmering, jade green orbs taking in his facial features. His oddly warm yet stern expression and somber eyes transforms her mood in an instant.

“... What're you saying to me?" She narrows her eyes, looking him over with suspicion.

“We have a ship – a real ship, not these little skiffs – that's anchored just offshore... You could, uhm... Leave with me." He smiles warmly as he makes the offer.

“What?! ... Why would I do that?!" She blinks.

“Because you can do better." He answers, his brow furling.

“Excuse me?!" Sira's eyes grow wide, her brow raising in shock.

“I'm just saying-"

“I do whatever I have to do to get by! Why are you suddenly judging me?!" She barks, cutting him off.

“I'm not! You're a good person, Sira."

“Rian and Dian are dumb brutes who treat me like their pet. They're rough and inconsiderate, and I know how they talk about me behind my back. They aren't even all that good in bed, which is why I picked you that night, yet I put up with them because it's given me all that I have to my name. Before them, I'd run away from my violent drunk of a boyfriend and was left wandering the streets. Have you been so hungry that you'd sell your body for bread? I have, and I was forced onto my hands and knees for meals and shelter more than once. What I do is the only thing I'm good at; it's the only skill I have, at least until my looks begin to fade in a few decades or so."

“That's nothing to be proud of..." Steingar speaks softly.

“I'm not proud of it! ... If anything, I'm ashamed..."

“Then why not let me help you?!" He asks, growing more insistent.

“Because I don't need it; I don't need you. I've made my own way. It's not the easiest way, and it damn sure isn't the way I imagined myself living when I was a little girl, but I'm alive and I only have myself to thank for that." She growls.

“I understand that, but you're still here, doing what you do. You have so much more to offer, Sira; you aren't just flesh to be traded for a coin... I mean, you can't honestly say that you're happy with this, can you?!"

“So, I'm supposed to just sail off into the sunset with you? Is that it? Run away with my knight in his shiny, black vest, because he wants me all to himself? You don't want to share your property; you don't like Rian and Dian having a piece of your new favorite pet?"

“Th-that's not it at all! I'm not looking for a pet or a plaything." Steingar replies.

The Helngar is shocked at the turn of events. Somehow, he didn't anticipate this when he imagined speaking with Sira. As he sits across from her, the front door opens in the background. Kirsta strolls in from outside. She looks around the room, spotting the Helngar and the Jaliscan woman right away; everyone else is Falmun, with just a handful of humans sprinkled throughout.

“I wish I could believe you, I really do, but I don't even really know you, Steingar. We only met the night before last, and now you're asking me to trust you with my life?!" Sira retorts.

“I only want what's best for you; you're a good person, with a good heart, and I'd like to help you. This isn't the life you deserve." Steingar insists.

“Maybe if we'd met months or a year ago. Maybe if we'd spent most of that time growing closer to each other. Maybe if you'd found me before I had to sell myself for food... Maybe then it wouldn't sound like a little boy's fantasy..." Sira rises slowly from her chair, her clawed hands planted firmly atop the table. “Goodbye, Steingar. Maybe we'll meet again, and maybe we won't."

Collecting her food and drink, she leaves him sitting alone at the table. He watches in stunned silence, dumbfounded by her response as she makes her way across the dining hall. Kirsta passes Sira, who is otherwise unaware of her connection to Steingar. The blonde human turns her sapphire eyes toward the staircase, watching the Jaliscan prostitute for a moment as she makes her way back upstairs and toward her room. She approaches the Helngar warrior as he sits in visible shock, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“A friend of yours?"

“Apparently not... Just some woman..." He murmurs.

“What's that supposed to mean?" Kirsta asks, claiming Sira's empty chair.

“Forget it... So, what're you doing here?"

“Well, it's nice to see you, too."

“It's been a long day."

“Already?! It's hardly started! ... Not enough sleep? Maybe there's such a thing as too much relaxation." She smirks.

“Drop it, please." He grumbles.

“Fine..."

Kirsta shrugs her shoulders, slumping back in the chair and resting her forearms atop the table. She stares at Steingar's bowl of stew for a moment, then reaches out and takes a slice of bread, dipping it into the broth of his stew. Steingar merely watches in silence, finding a modicum of amusement at her boldness.

“Seriously. What're you doing back, and where's everyone else? Did you find what you were looking for in the next town?" He asks again, pouring himself some ale.

“I think so. They're all still back there, waiting for me to return."

“So? What's the story?!" Steingar takes a swig of his ale.

“We found a Falmun doctor; he's some old, bald, bearded guy named Sovik. He gave Irzain a memory potion... I think... The load managed to chug the rancid concoction before passing out on the old elf's dirt floor. He's been in a dream-state ever since."

“Figures." He softly chuckles.

“Jarae still has an attitude problem, and it's wearing on my nerves. Surprise, surprise. She's trying way too hard to hide her lust for Valan, and Mairlynn isn't trying hard enough. That little elf is so desperate that she tried cuddling with the fuzz-ball last night."

“Huh... I'm surprised she didn't molest Irzain's unconscious body." Steingar snickers.

“Maybe if we weren't there to catch her... Oh, she misses you, by the way. Made me promise to tell you that."

“Cute... And how're you doing?"

“You know me... Sort of... I'm adapting, but all thing's considered, I'd rather turn back the hands of time and enjoy my life the way it was before." Kirsta answers.

“Speaking to the converted, sister." He grins. “... What about Valan? Is he still mad?"

“How should I know? He's with you. Where is he anyway? Still sleeping?" She looks around the room for the long-haired gunman.

“... He left yesterday." He chokes out, his eyes wide in horror.

“What?!" She gasps.

“Yeah... Around noonish. He left because he thought we could catch up to you. I suggested we wait here, but he wasn't having it." Steingar explains.

“Well, we haven't seen him. We thought he was still here, with you."

“... Shit." Steingar turns his head away, staring pensively at the floor. “I knew I shouldn't have let him leave. I fought him, but that little prick pulled his guns on me."

“Men." Kirsta murmurs.

Steingar slowly shakes his head, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. It's a gut feeling, an instinct for danger that the Helngar warrior had evolved throughout his time as a soldier; it hasn't misled him yet.

“Look, you said you two had a fight?"

“Yeah." He slowly nods his head.

“Well... He didn't know exactly where we were, only that we were in the next town over and that we'd eventually have to come back for the boat. I'll bet he just took a long walk to blow off steam and lost track of time. Knowing him, he probably found a nice, warm, moist hole to crawl inside of for the night." Kirsta snickers.

“But what if he didn't? What if he's lost?" Steingar poses.

“On this island?!" She laughs. “He'll find his way back by tomorrow, after he walks the length of the shore."

“... I hope you're right."

“Of course I am." She leans forward, snatching some more bread and dipping it into his stew. “If it makes you feel better, you can just wait here for him to come back; I'll break the news to Mairlynn and Jarae. Whenever Irzain wakes up, which shouldn't be too long, we'll make our way back here, and I'm sure by then we'll know where Valan's been hiding himself."

“Okay... Do you really think Irzain will wake up soon?"

“Sure. I mean, how long can a person sleep without eating and drinking, anyway?!"

“..."

“That's a rhetorical question." She sighs. “I should get back. If Valan shows up, kick his ass, for the both of us."

Scarfing down the soggy bread, soaked with the broth of Steingar's stew, she reaches out and snatches his mug of ale.

“Hey!"

Chugging the contents, she sighs with relief and wipes her lips with her palm.

“Much better! See you later, alright? Stay out of trouble." She says, setting his empty mug atop the table.

“You to..." He murmurs, pouring another drink from the pitcher.

Heading for the door, Kirsta glances toward the staircase, wondering who that Jaliscan woman was to Steingar. He looked awfully upset when she left his table in a huff. Kirsta makes her way outside, breathing in the salty air of the coastal town. It's a cool day, and a breeze flutters her flowing blonde hair. It picks up speed, rustling her turquoise clothes. If she wasn't wearing her leather armor, she'd be much colder. Valan only had on his black trousers, boots and a purple silk shirt. A worry begins to creep in.

Walking back to the trail that links the two towns, she keeps her sapphire eyes peeled, looking for any sign of the gunman. As a former prince, she isn't sure how well-prepared he is for a night in the wilderness. For all she knows is was Jarae who cared for him throughout their time together, stranded on their little island. She moves at a snail's pace as she walks the trail, but finds neither hide nor hair of the missing man. Eventually, she reaches the second town, a humble village. She walks the perimeter of the village, passing the huts and old houses. She briefly peeks inside of any that has an opened door and shutters, but doesn't find a single trace of Valan.

“What am I doing? He's just lost. A typical noble, unaccustomed to such petty things as navigation." She tells herself, shaking off her worry. “Time to get back!"

Returning to Sovik's hut, Irzain is still asleep on the straw mattress. Mairlynn continues to sit and watch him, displaying both the patience and attitude of a cat stalking a mouse or a bird. Jarae plays a strange game with Sovik, stacking little logs into the shape of a tower before pulling the pieces away, trying not to topple it. It isn't until Kirsta sits beside Jarae that anyone even realizes she's returned.

“Ahh!"

Jarae jumps, seeing the figure appearing in her peripheral vision. The tower topples over, jostled by her movement.

“Hah! You lose!" Sovik chuckles.

“Back so soon?!" Jarae furls her brow.

“I've actually been gone for several hours." Kirsta raises a brow.

“Oh... This game is very addicting! I didn't even notice!"

As her shimmering, pink eyes scan the woman's face, Jarae's expression changes.

“What's wrong?" The Jaliscan asks.

Kirsta sighs, then clears her throat. Mairlynn shifts her attention toward the human, as does a curious Sovik. It's then that Kirsta explains what happened during her little journey, revealing the fight that Steingar and Valan had the day before, as well as the gunman's disappearance. Mairlynn and Jarae are both shocked, the elf's ruby eyes wide and the Jaliscan's jaw hanging open.

“And he's been gone all night?!" Jarae gasps.

“It seems that way." Kirsta replies.

“I hope he's alright." Mairlynn remarks.

“Shouldn't we go and look for him?!" Jarae glances between her companions.

“We're already split in two, and this island isn't that big. I figure he's probably keeping himself busy." Kirsta answers.

“You don't even want to check?!" Jarae snarls.

“I did! I walked the village, and I checked the trail; I didn't see anything. If you want to run off and find him, be my guest."

Jarae looks to Mairlynn, and though she appears concerned, she responds only with a shrug. The little Falmun woman scoots back toward Irzain, content to sit and wait for him to wake up. Jarae is alone in her assertion that they search, and it's painfully obvious. Realizing this, she begins to panic; it's not over Valan's disappearance, but her failure to conceal her worry. Doing her best to push her dark thoughts from her mind, she scoots away from Kirsta and Sovik, placing her back against the wall. She draws in her legs, bringing her knees to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rests her chin atop her knees and stares at the door of the hut.

“Don't you want to play again? You might win this time." Sovik speaks with a fatherly warmth.

“No... I don't feel like playing anymore. Maybe Kirsta would like to try?" Jarae speaks in a near whisper.

“My dear?" Sovik glances to Kirsta.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?" She sighs, looking over the fallen blocks.

Kirsta and Sovik stack the blocks as the old Falmun explains the few rules of the game. Hours pass, and soon it's time for dinner. Irzain twitches, but he otherwise remains statuesque. Another night passes, and there's still no sign of Valan or any word from Steingar, whom they assume is merely waiting at the inn for their return. Cooking that morning's breakfast, Sovik stirs the contents of the cauldron. Noticing sweat beading on Irzain's forehead, Mairlynn kneels beside him and leans closer. His eyes dart to and fro, moving beneath his eyelids like a fox chasing a fleeing rabbit. They suddenly shoot open, and the human bolts upright, startling the dainty elf.

“Eee!" She falls back onto her butt.

“Wha-! Where am I?!" He pants for air, looking as though he'd just awoken from an awful nightmare.

“You're up!" Mairlynn chirps.

“Finally." Jarae grumbles.

“We're at the doctor's, remember?" Kirsta steps closer.

“Oh... H-how long was I out for?" He asks, looking over the room.

“A while." Kirsta replies.

“What's 'a while' mean?" He asks, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Three nights and two days." Jarae answers.

“What?!" He gasps.

“How do you feel, Irzain?" Sovik asks, looking him over.

“I feel... Wait... When did I tell you my name?!"

“You've been asleep for a long time. You don't think we all sat around your body in silence, did you?" Sovik retorts.

“Right... Well, I feel... Hungry! I could eat the hide off of a bear!"

“You could always eat me." Mairlynn coos, winking as she scoots closer to him.

“Do you feel anything else?" Sovik asks, grasping Irzain's head and shifting it around.

“Uh... Thirsty, and a little dampness on my back from this mat-"

Sovik suddenly smacks the back of Irzain's head.

“Ow!"

“By the Seraphs, do you remember anything?!" Sovik growls.

“Thank you!" Kirsta chirps.

“Oh! Yes, I do!" Irzain replies, rubbing his head.

“Such as?" Mairlynn leans a little closer.

“... Do any of you know what a 'purge order' is?"