The Broken Mast [30th of Jygust, Trade Tide]

[Matiel Escariot]

The 30th of Jygust within the Tides of Trade

A young man found himself without a finger and piece of paper to thank for it. That piece lay at his side, reminding him of the past three months. A shrill wind of cold brushed his neck each time he glanced over that piece of paper by his side. The memory of stupidity and the price it incurred was a compilation of thoughts he did not like. Try as he might, he could not have solved the problems in any other way. A finger was a price, and he paid. It seems, the other price, would be found here today.

Sketches of the 1200

—I need a name bloodier and better than this.

The artist, the young writer who worshipped his letters, did not try to distract his mind away from the constant reminder beside him with his scribbling hand. He did not need to. He was fully focused on what he wanted to do. It helped, of course, with keeping his eye away from his bandaged hand and glaring scrap of paper; but it did not keep him from creasing his brow hard over his work.

Stone bathes whenever the sun is high above. It is a most jarring kind of bathing. The stone has no dignity to speak of as its naked purity reflects the Sun’s eyes on unfamiliar onlookers, a kind of arrogance that pierces and blinds. Those who have known that purity since birth have chosen to walk with eyes averted.

—no. This is too above itself. I have yet to find comfort in using the present tense of narratives. Perhaps, in some far of future, I would find something sweet in the action ongoing. But, for now, the action done appeals more to my taste.
—I desperately need a better title for this little collection.
—What do I see when I walk these streets of dirt, stone, and cobble?

He scribbled and scribbled on the paper he brought with him. The ink was sloppy on the ragged surface of the paper. He had tried to procure better sheets, but the price was too much for just mere practice. He’d wait till the time that his hand was better than what was needed. He’d wait till his words were better than the best he’d read before.

A young man sees faces among the bustle. These faces have no names.

—What in fuck? No. No. Fuck No! I do what I do with taste. I do what I do apart from what everybody else can do. This is no better. This is no good. I am better than the best. No!
—I am sketching the city as the city should be. I am sketching, not looking myself in the mirror.
—Why am I so scared? Ink drops on paper. Paper takes the ink within it and loves it. Together they bear the sense of a mind. The mind that bled the ink.
—No. What is truth? What the fuck is truth? What is my truth? Where is my truth?

A young man walked the ways of a city.

—Have no fear. Have no fear, no fear at all. These words will stay. These words will stay and remain forever in the hearts of those who touch it.

A young man walked the way of the city. He walked by the side of the road as carts and carriages passed him by. He chose to let this way touch him. He let his ears notice the crisp taps of hooves on cobble stones. He…

—No. this is not a story. This is not my story. What now? What now? What in Bloody Nethers now?

Matiel looked about to see if the man he was waiting for was here. Among those that thronged to fill this place with noise, none reminded him of the man that took his finger.

A breath touched his lips. He licked them as a barmaid approached with what he wanted. He didn’t spare her the worthiness of his eyes. His attention lay on trying to find the man that left him the scrap of paper by his side. His brow thickened as the numbness in his left hand throbbed. He didn’t dare look at it. He didn’t like the fact that he didn’t dare to do anything at all. He resented the price he was given. He resented the man who gave him the price. He resented the fact that he had no power to do anything about it.

He would have to do something about it. He would have to think of a way. Matiel paid for nothing.

A young man sat on a bench by the side of a cobblestoned road.

The White Stones of Kings

—The tea is helping. I think, I think, I may have something here.

The stones bathed in sunlight. They would not shy away as they stood there in naked purity. That loss of modesty pierced through my eyes and blinded them. It glared at those that found it too arrogant while steeling its gaze on those it awed. The walls were too tall for those it awed. Those who dared look up found nothing there but a brightness. No one deserved its towering brightness.

All those who passed, passed by with their heads bowed or eyes onward. Those that followed the crisp tapping of hooves on cobblestone chose to hide in thick lumbered carriages or roofed carts. They tried to busy themselves with bustle and business. All tried to ignore the naked purity with talk of money, news, gossip, prices, vegetables, Kings, unworthy filth—whatever it was that could take away the screaming whiteness from flicker to flicker.

—Bloody Nethers! It’s too biased. Too biased. A careful man of letters could so easily see through it. I must forget myself. My words are not for myself.
—But what of the poem?
—Bah! I despise poetry. The narrative is my only game.
—But what if?

Matiel let his eyes stray from his work once more. He moved to clean up his table, laying together the sheets he had used. He was careful enough to notice other eyes watching him. Here, inside a place he had never been to before, he set himself apart too much. Sitting alone on a table, minding too much his own business, and that business happened to be scratching over paper. Matiel had come to the thought that the people that filled this place were the kinds that didn’t take lightly the presence of threatening strangers. Being different was enough of a threat. Eyes that looked at no one yet looked too sharp for comfort, just added to the disturbance on a regular day for any fob of a man who enjoyed this box of filth.

The Stones of a king

These stones are white
They glare
Their eyes are steel
They bathe
In sunlight, piercing
They blind
And love the sky
They stand
So tall, so very tall
And none
Shall ever fall

—The Poem! The poem is so simple. Any man who knows his letter will see my hand and this! I need a name. I need a name that no man can know beyond the words.
—I will have to think on this more. I wish to capture a flicker, a moment, a single burn of the soul that lives within the Vigilant Gates. So far, I have written nothing but my own thoughts on the matter. I’ll need something better. I’ll need something neutral. I need something truer. I need to walk these walls as a man of the Western Kingdom, not Matiel Escariot.
—I hate poetry. I hate the entire art of it. I like this.
—I’ll need something simpler and more concise though. If I am to write for all, all must understand what I write.

Matiel was done with what he wanted. He grabbed his bag and shoved all his papers inside. He folded them cleanly at first, waiting for the ink to soak in and dry. He then capped his ink and placed his pen into its case. He made sure the cap on his ink was tight, before he placed it inside a small pouch along with the case of his pen. These he set aside the papers in his bad and shut it tight with its string. He then set the satchel on his lap before he took another sip of his tea. There was no honey and milk for his tea here. Tea was even a surprising availability here.

Now, there was only the piece of paper before him left. He smiled.

Matiel smiled.

He turned it to its back and wrote down another garble of words that came so suddenly to him.

TRUTH

I
Am
GOD

He was careful to slip that piece back into his pocket, and then he waited.

[Ashari]

Once upon a time, The Mast would've been closed at this mark. These were different days, and Matiel entered to a crowd at the bar, but an otherwise empty establishment excepting for a table of low-lifes in the corner talking business but not getting much done.

It was a shit pub - the dark kind - the kind you don't want to get caught in unless you're looking for a fight. Matiel, with his parcels, parchment and quills, was looked at more as a topic of conversation. As he fell into the void created by the Page he was given over to insult, but no injury. After a few burns of entertainment, the burly men at the bar gave up their boisterous guffawing and harassed one another, because atleast then they got a response.

Quite unsure of what the queer fellow wanted, Anna didn't head over right away. She was, after all, rather busy with being groped by an otherwise unemployed mercenary. Once he'd had his fill of her forming body, she gathered up the drinks she'd been sent to fetch and distributed them to the group at the table and meandered over to Matiel's lonely spot. "Can I gecha somfin?" Annabelle was far too young to be in a place like this. She could've been hanging about with Mathius under different circumstances, but instead she was a too-thin fifteen yahren old who'd barely had her womanly cycles thanks to her malnutrition.

[Matiel Escariot]

Matiel, as far as he was concerned, was the only thought that lived inside the Broken Mast. Broken, an apt name. He had finished what he had, with his writings safely tucked into his bag, when the barkeeper's assistant called his attention. It roused him from his little world of all that was him, allowing his voice to acknowledge the girl.

"I will have more tea. I will have them with sugar or honey, preferably honey, and if you have more than just one kind of tea, I’d appreciate it if you brewed a mild pot for me.”

Matiel didn’t think it necessary to grace the child with his eyes. He came here, waiting for someone to come, and that someone had proven himself a little late for comfort. Matiel didn’t hate the things that surrounded him—from the rot-corpse furnishing to the lice that scattered about the corners with their own tables, dancing with termites. He could appreciate subcultures that lazed or merried about this place. He knew those things had their places. What he didn’t have though, was interest.

“I came here, looking for a man named Cedric,” Matiel had no wish to stay a full tide’s waste of time here, “He left me a message to come here, now I am here. If you see him, or know him, tell him I’m here. Till then, get me my tea, and a copy of the local rotula if you have one, I’ll pay when I’m done.”

[Ashari]

"We dona 'ave suga or honey, but we 'ave tea," she said. "An' cream, if'n you want somefin ta sweeten it up." Certain things had become commodoties in the city, and were only available to those with the money to afford them. A place like the Broken Mast just didn't have the financial means to account for something like sugar.

"Ifin yer lookin for Cedric, you'll be aroun' fer a while. Ee was 'ere, but 'e left about a mark ago - said 'ed be back," she shrugged and her sleeve slipped off her shoulder slightly, exposing a bruise on her upper arm that she recovered without thought.

Matiel's words, though acidic and sharp, had no effect on the angular youth. She stared at him with washed out eyes and an ineffectual mouth that poured out malformed words. "Mmhm," was all she said before turning around and returning to the bar. Her shoulder blades could be seen through the thin dress - sharp as shaving razors and likely just as smooth and cool to the touch.

It wasn't until fifteen burns later that she returned with a hot pot of water and three satchels that wafted aromas out of this place - out of the world that the Mast was a part of. "Rose tea," pink satchel, "green tea," sage satchel, "and black tea," white satchel. "Those'r from my special stash ah teas, so you be payin' me direct-like, right?" She held out a hand. "Two banner for each, or five fa all o em."

A familiar face came into the establishment: Cedric, looking much the same as he had in their last meeting, although perhaps a bit weary or tired. Which was difficult to judge. "Get out of here, Anna," he said sharply while pulling out a chair.

"Yah friend 'ere owes me som money, Ceds, ain't just steppin me out like that," she replied hotly with crossed arms.

The man turned on her, pushing the chair out with the backs of his knees in a single fluid movement that had his hand wrapped around her bruised arm violently, pressing on the annex between collar bone and shoulder-joint with his vice-like thumb. "Get outta 'ere, Anna." Cedric mocked her vernacular with clarity, and she nodded, but didn't say another word. Deflated, she went back to the bar, and was flouncing among the dirty men soon-there-after.

"I've got a package for you boys to take with you," Cedric said to Matiel.

[Matiel Escariot]

He had his eyes on finishing his own cup before he regarded the bag he was given. He listened to her, sparing her a glance as she went and came back with those bags. He listened to her voice, regarded the dull eyes that stared from behind a duller face, and thought her familiar. He could not place though, where he'd once seen those same eyes.

Matiel picked up the satchel of rose and sage tea and handed it back to the barkeeper's girl with two banner's worth of coin.

"There is no such thing as tea made from rose and sage, but tell me, where did you get the Green ones?"

Matiel had no time for answers though, as Cedric pushed the thought of tea away so eagerly.

"If it's anything like the last time you gave me a package to deliver, make sure you go through the proper protocols. Bring the girl to us, as a passenger, and I'll place her in my sights. I'll personally watch her, guard her, and keep her out of everybody else's attention. I expect you to keep her appearance and clothing at norm to keep attention away. And, I would expect that this would be the last time. We do not like...matters dealt as such. Next time you deal with us, it will be through more conventional containers. Not this."

Matiel's lost finger throbbed, and his voice nearly quivered. Now he knew where he'd seen those eyes once. It was obvious now why Cedric chose this place. The Laughing King's was his place of lounging, but this. This was where he worked. Matiel could almost assume that Cedric owned this place, which meant...

No, it could not be. But, yes, yes, yes, it might always be. Matiel hoped he'd met a better man than the one before him, but as time grew old, he'd come to notice that men like him, men who thought though crown for a crown, had harder hearts than most, and sharper heads. This was the new world he was coming to meet. It would be best, if he met it all the way.

Besides, there could be something in it for him...

"I'm curious," he asked, "do you own this place?"

[Ashari]

"Sure thah is'a rose tea," she said crossing her thin arms. "An' who said anythin' about sage?" Anna's listless eyes met his, and her fingers clasped around the coins that he put in her palm, while she stuffed them and the unwanted teas away. She would've liked very much to answer the strange fellow, but Cedric didn't offer that opportunity.

"I've got a bit of something different for you to move this time," Cedric said while intertwining fingers and looking over Matiel's display of parchments and tealeaves. It all seemed rather flowery to the dark man, but he managed to keep his opinion on the matter to himself. Mat asked whether Cedric owned the Mast, and he grinned a wicked sort of smile. "Why... yes, I do, why, you lookin to buy this rat hole from me after you've gone on your grand adventures?" He laughed at Matiel and his curiosity.

"Is too bad if you are, because I'm not selling. I have a special bond with this pub. I think it's a bit of alright, and couldn't imagine anyone else running her." He patted the table they sat at affectionately, much like a captain of a ship is wont to do on his railings. Anna returned with a mug of ale for Cedric, and left just as quickly as she'd arrived, giving Matiel only a short, needful look before departing.

Cedric took up the mug and stared into the frothy contents until the head settled to a consistant level before he took a deep swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his grimy hand. "My packages - there are two for you to take on with you - will be going to Brie," he said after his hand rested back with the other on the tabletop again. "You want them pretending like to be passengers?"

[Matiel Escariot]

"I was prepared for one, Cedric," Matiel dipped the green tea satchel into the hot cup he was given. He followed after Anna with an order as she left, "Cream or milk, as you said you have offered."

He returned to Cedric when he was sure his order was heard and continued, "The note you left me promised me some coin other than the agreement we had that there would be no further conflict between you, your people, and me and my people."

"Now that you've mentioned two, instead of one, I believe there is a price you wish to offer me for this increase in responsibility. For this, I ask, what are your terms for this one? What am I getting myself into, being that I am now unsure over the conditions I am being given, thus I would have to think on the changes I would need to effect on my part."

"What exactly am I carrying this time?"

That was the finality of his point, and a concluding factor, "Instead of coin, I'm now thinking of an alternative way for you to pay for my services. Tell me, who is that bargirl to you? She doesn't act like a slave, yet her face shouts it out loud. I am curious, would you allow me some time with her, in private?"

Matiel wasn't sure on something, but there was already things going on in his mind. There was something about the girl that he needed to do, and if he was right over what he thought, everything inside him screamed at him to fix it.

[Ashari]

Anna nodded to Matiel's request and disappeared into a backroom of the dingy establishment much to the disappointment of the men at the bar who sought after her attentions.

"You'll take these two packages, boy," Cedric began sternly. "And for that I won't bother your other boys none, and neither will mine, and we'll live a happy-ever-after until a time as when I say I need another thing," he said surely. "And when that happens, you'll do that thing, too - even though I don't even know what that thing is yet. What does matter is that I know you'll do it if your a smart boy, because smart boys want to make money."

The man's dark eyes flicked between Matiel's. "It's two girls - you just need to bring them to Pax. No different from last time," he continued. "And that should be the end of our business."

Anna returned with a small clay creamer which she set down on the table without a sound, breaking their conversation in time for Matiel to ask about her.

"Who? Anna? You got a thing for her?" Cedric looked briefly over her shoulder and when his face returned to Matiel there was a wicked grin in place of his calculating inspection. "I'm sure something can be arranged. What you have in mind?"

[Matiel Escariot]

He was a boy. Matiel cringed inside, and clenched his belly, doing all that he could to keep his gaze easy and his voice at level. He knew the fact as it was a fact, but even truth had its grain of acid starkness even if the shield that repelled it was iced steel. Acid ate everything, so did truth.

But, truth was good, truth was truth. It kept Matiel in place as he accepted the words thrown at him, letting them inside and simmer. He would have to remember Cedric forever. This was something he could not allow to continue. However, maybe there was another way to this than mindless vindication. Matiel checked his heart and held it where it should always be, beneath his sole.

"In time, when you offer me another opportunity to make money, I hope that this time; it will be an offer, not an order. You have to understand, your kind of business involves risks I can not afford to take. Now is the only time I do accept, being that I can not afford the alternative."

Matiel began to dissolve the tea into his cup and allowed the pigment to mix evenly with the heated water.

"I am not saying that I will meet you in conflict, I am saying that I am more effective at doing what I do if I am doing what I do with all my consent. I do not believe in coercion. It meddles with productivity, which is why I do not understand why you insist on taking such a tone with me. Why threaten me now, if you could persuade me better with a promise of gain?"

Matiel waited for Anna to return with the cream before he spoke again, taking the cream into his tea and mixing it slowly into the drink.

"I want some time spent with her, in private, just so I can find out whether I want her all the time, or not. I am sure, that is possible, yes?"

[Ashari]

The underworld slime watched as Matiel dropped the sweet cream into the cup. Swirling in contrast, the color settled to a milky tan. "I don't need to promise you any gain," his eyes shifted from the cup to Matiel again. "I was goin' to offer you a bit under your charge for regular passengers, but now that you've got an interest in Anna, maybe we could go with a two-fer-one deal?"

Greed swam in his attentively focussed mind. "And in exchange, you get pretty little Anna there for the rest of the afternoon or this evening, whichever you prefer." He held tentatively to the mug, considering another swig, but deciding better of it until Matiel suggested an agreement.

Anna, meanwhile, watched from the bar. She'd taken to eating her lunch, and once more, the barmen harassed her for attention, though she swatted them away like flies. "You buyin' me lunch?" Her voice cut through the masculine garble with feminine clarity. "Naw? Then get on and let me haf it," she retorted to their denials of paying her way, but it was all in decent fun, and even she was given to a grin over the babble.

"What you mean, havin her all the time, anyway?" He asked with piqued curiosity.

[Matiel Escariot]

Matiel whispered his breath onto the cup and rippled some of its heat away before he took it slightly to his lips. He sipped in slowly, letting his tongue grow warm to the heat, before he took longer sips.

"I mean, that I might want to buy her employment off of you," he started, "Which is why I want to know. Is she one of your, passengers, in nature, or is she nothing more than just a regularly paid employee?"

"That is why I proposed the no need for coin deal, I might want her instead."

[Ashari]

Cedric gave this idea a thought, and looked over to Anna. As if on cue, the girl glanced their way, and met his gaze, her vision switching between he and Matiel as of to guage what was being said about her. Cedric turned back to Matiel. "Sure. Sounds fair enough to me," he responded gravelly. "Though I don't know what sort of job you'd want her for. She's only good for two things - fetching beers and fucking - and no, she's not a passenger."

He shrugged, finding that sort of description both fitting if even complimentary of the young woman. "Unless you're in need of one of the two of those things, son?" He grinned. "If so... I've got a better fuck around for you than those bones." There were plenty of men who found Anna's company quite pleasurable, but she was young and inexperienced, which Cedric understood, and Matiel seemed the type to have more interesting taste.

[Matiel Escariot]

Matiel smiled, giving Cedric the satisfaction of a response to his own oh-so-knowing grin.

"I have my reasons," he spoke the words with leisured undulations of his tongue, choosing his tones to fit the rising and falling of a lithe voice, "And, I'm sure you already know most of those reasons. For this, I conclude that we are done here. I will want my time with her now, I will take her with me for a little walk, and when I like what I experience, I'll take her, if not, I'll tell her to come back and I expect a decrease in the payment I am to be given only in the amount of time we have spent together, is that satisfactory?"

[Ashari]

"Fair enough," Cedric said, wiping at his mouth after taking a swig of his ale - finishing it off and waving a hand toward Anna. Ever the obediant pet she moved over to their table.

"Yessah," she said.

"You're going for a walk with this friend of mine," he replied and motioned toward Matiel. "When you get back you let Barton know." At that Cedric pushed his seat out. "Tomorrow morning I'll bring over my passengers at the Vigilent Gate for you boys to pick up," he said to Matiel, and then turned away from the couple while headed over to the barman, Barton.

Annabelle nodded and put on a smile for Matiel's entertainment. "Whur you wanna walk te?" She asked him. "Unless yah wanna f'nish up yer tea first."

[Matiel Escariot]

Matiel nodded towards the man and voiced after him as he left them, "Make sure you tell them to act on their own on this. I would rather that they approach me on their own, handle themselves as their own, and keep themselves proper the entire way."

Matiel gulp down his tea and started to rise as Anna approached and Cedric left them together. He watched her eyes as he moved away, answering her in the same voice he used with everyone he had yet to know.

"No, I'm done, let's go."

Matiel moved towards the door and never looked back. He knew the girl would follow, now all he needed to know then were the questions in his head that bothered him.

He didn't actually have a plan for where he was going to take a walk though. He was just glad his business with Cedric was done and over with, but besides that there were ends to tighten concerning him. For one thing, Matiel could not allow having that man hold the higher hand on him again. He also needed to make sure that Cerdic was Cedric and that his boys were really his boys. He also needed to think how he was going to...

Yes, the girl, the girl might be useful after all. Now, where were they going to go? Somewhere thronging with people, and it was normal for man like him and a girl like her to hold a conversation. Ah, yes, the harbor.

[Ashari]

"Wan' me tah carry henny of yah fings?" She asked, looking at his myriad of papers and carelessly strewn articles upon which he'd been writing.

Once outside Anna walked quietly beside Matiel. She found his behavior interesting - if a bit odd - and didn't want to disturb him if he were lost to his thoughts. The walk itself was not uncomforable. The air outside in the tradetide was pleasant and warm, as well as breezy from the very harbor that Matiel lead them toward.

People bustled around the city - busy with their own things. The scents varied, but were mostly of animals in this part of the city. Men rode on carts pulled by ponies and heavily bred horses. Their wares were under the canopies of their small caravan, but the insignia's on the outsides of them marked what was inside. Stitched onto the white linen of one was a W intersecting another W set slightly lower. Wilson's Weavers. A carriage rumbled past the walking couple, with it's filmy curtains drawn closed and the silouhette of a hook-nosed man sitting inside.

Anna's scrawny arms wrapped around her body, but she remained close-by the curious young man. "Whur ah we gooin?" She asked, finally, after a few burns. She'd anticipated something more immediate and base, not a stroll through the poor Quarter.

[Matiel Escariot]

He cleaned up his own belongings. They were easy to tidy. Going to and fro from his classes gave him the practice, the need, for a neat and streamlined array of possessions. The weight of the satchel itself was a comfort to him. It reminded him of the things he carried, the things he cared for, whenever he walked the roads of this city.

Forgetting...was the easiest fault to fall to whenever you see sights that would rather have you, all of you, without much worth to compensate with.

"No, I carry myself just fine," Matiel spared the girl his glance now. It would do both of them no good at all if he continued to erect a thick wall between them, "I'd rather you mind carrying yourself more than carrying others."

He walked then, thankful that she merely followed without a question or care. It struck him then that maybe this was what she really was at all times, at all places. He then imagined her as she was in Cedric's place in this city. Matiel did not fail to notice the things she did and experienced. He had no qualms over that, but if his suspicions were correct, she should be going onward for something much, much more.

"We are going around. We will walk that much is it. As we do this, I want you to do one things, answer everything without a lie, understand?"

The harbor was perfect. The scents were aversive, primal, uncultured. But what was culture anyway? Matiel had no right over the state of shit around him. Shit was a product of a process that continued to grow. In time, the scents here would be transformed from its meager simplicity into sought after produce that those situated nearer to the heart of King's Court could not live without. Wine was made from grapes grown to rot.

Ah, they've been walk too long. He would need to start what he wanted to do now.

"Where are you from, who are your parents, how did you get to be Cedric's barmaid, what are the things you did in that establishment--be specific in telling me what--please do speak in words closer to mine own, by that I mean don't talk like you live in a boat if you can."

"Answer those first, then we'll keep on going."

[Ashari]

Anna took his message about carrying herself and she found herself righting her shoulders and trying to give over to a better posture and uncrossed arms. When she wasn't slouching there was a certain grace to the wasp of a girl. Her body was made out of all lines and only the gentlest curves. In something more tailored she could be rather nice to look upon.

At his demanding question she nodded, still silent, though inside her little mind churned over thoughts of what to have for supper, and who she could coerce into buying it for her - and at what cost. This was brought on by the scents of fresh fish and sea water, both of which caused her to salivate.

"I'm from here," Anna said clearly. "Tha Court. My parents were nobodies. My fatha a useless drunk and gambler - my mama a seamstress. She died a few yahren ago - the wasting." It was the term given to all sorts of illnesses that ended the same - death. "I work at Ceds because my papa owes him a debt, so he made a trade, and I'm all he had." There was no love lost between she and her father. "An' Ceds says he'll have Finch kill me if I try an' go, so.. I don't, and he gives me a place to live and one meal a day. It's not bad work slinging meads," she shrugged. "I don't love him, though," she referred to Cedric, but whether he understood what she was getting was likely dependant on his own assumption.

[Matiel Escariot]

Matiel watched her tongue moisten her lips. The drool that came was easily explained by the smells of produce that filled the air of this harbor. He didn't really care much for those scents. He had his fair share of food today already. If she wanted to eat, she would have to do it on her own time. She had yet to prove herself satisfactory.

"Define love," Matiel found her words on Cedric vague. It was a curious statement from her though. There was much about the world she lived in and Cedric thrived in that he wanted to know about. He might even immortalize it all in paper, should he find it interesting. For now though, the senses of the harbor was enough. He had never been here before in his life. He had thought that life lived by his fatherly line of the family was forgotten, but no. He now had an inkling why they all turned to the water. He didn't think that such a place could be so lush...and moist beneath a Dominican sun.

Matiel then found himself walking away from those scents, closer towards the docks, the stones that met the sea. He listened then, to her as she would answer his question. Then, as he reached the edges that looked on passively into the sea, he sat on the docks, his feet dangling beneath him. He patted at his side, beckoning the girl to follow and sit with him.

"This should be enough to continue, now, you were saying? I have more questions, and we'll spend our time talking until I am satisfied."

[Ashari]

"Love? Like.. what it means?" She asked, her eyes lingering on Matiel in curiosity, but she knew as she asked that was exactly what he meant. He was strange, but he wasn't entirely difficult to follow. So she did the only thing she could do, and that was earn her banner the way he sought it. "Well," she began, taking in the sights, scents and scenery of the harbor. "Love is like - well, it's.. I don't really know," she said biting her lip thoughtfully, ever pliant to Matiel's movements as he went away from the harbor toward the rocks.

"I've never actually been in love." Anna tucked her skirt around her appropriately to scoot down next to Matiel, though she didn't hang her feet off the egde as he did. "I know I'm not in love with Ceds, though - he bought me... that's not the way it works. It's all feeling-y," she continued, now running the full course with what she actually thought love was. "And it makes your insides tingly, atleast that's what other girls say about it. Plus, it's all about being ok with the other person, being who you are and not worrying and him lovin' you ta bits over it." She nodded. "Oh! And babies," she smiled. "Having babies you love, too.. that's even more love."

"You see, my mama - she didn't love my dad, never did.. not even in the very beginning." Annabelle's eyes shifted over the horizon. "So she couldn't love me right, because I was part of him, you know? So she saw his eyes in my eyes, and his mouth in my mouth... and it wasn't right." The young girl shrugged. "My mom just belonged to my dad, that's the way it is."

"Same way I belong to Ceds. I'm his, you know? But.. I don't want to be. I want to be mine." That, for Anna, would be love - the happiness and tingly-ness and being feeling-y would be to be free from her ownership.

[Matiel Escariot]

Matiel knew it. Anna was meant for something bigger, same as Mathias, same as everyone else. They just forgot how big the direction was supposed to be. He swore that this one wouldn't forget. He just had a few more questions to ask before he would finish this and move on to other errands.

"Look onward, into the distance where the line between sky and sea is blurred. Try to find something therein and tell me what you see," this was one more test he needed to try on her.

"From then on, ask yourself, who owns you? If you leave Cedric with me, will I own you? If then, that you don't own yourself, do you really want to own yourself? If you do, stand up and follow me. If you don't, go back to Cedric. In time, your meaning for love won't matter."

"Oh, and before I forget, if you do follow me, I won't allow you to follow until you first go to your mother and your father and tell them, with all your heart, that you love them."

One who does not look back at where he came from, shall never reach where he is going. Matiel was taught this by life in King's Court and the dreams he had outside of the city. He had enough of looking back, tomorrow was for looking on. Anna had to learn that, if she didn't... Too bad.

[Ashari]

Anna's eyes fixed on the line that represented the end of the world. The horizon line, beyond which the pirates owned the seas and the monsters regularly owned the pirates by way of their large serpentine mouths eating their ships. There was much fantasy surrounding the edge of vision. Her eyes turned to slants as she tried to pick something out of the blur. "I see.. masts.. and.. well, there are a lot of ships out there, don't you think?" Annabelle enjoye the harbor, but she'd not seen so many ships out of it in a long time.

Down the way a group of maroon clad marines were kicking people off the docks. "Head on out you lot. Admiral says so, get on," the leader of their military outfit called. "Harbor is CLOSED!" He announced.

Anna moved a bit closer to Matiel, and had a quick response to his demands for her freedom. "I've forgiven my mama all I can. She's in a grave, outside the city. I don't go there though - I don't feel close to her there... and my dad?" She pushed herself off the rocks. "I suppose if I could find him.. but," Anna looked at him hopefully - her large eyes begging that he not need her to do this thing.

"CLOSED! People... are we having a hard time with the common tongue?" The navy officer began speaking with a fisherman and his son who were sitting not far from where Anna and Matiel spoke.

"Maybe... maybe we should get goin'," she said to him, quietly. "Before we call attention to ourselves."

[Matiel Escariot]

Matiel sighed, and rose from his seat from the edge of the stones. He threw the navy man a nod of affirmation, consenting to the Harbor's closure. He took note of the time as he walked away, checking the sky for its light, judging why they were closing this place down at its time.

"I understand," Matiel thought on what he asked her to do, thinking the effect it would have on her. He cursed himself, in retrospect, upon seeing the folly of such an agreement, "Please forgive me. I did not think on it too much."

Matiel began to lead their walk further away from the harbor towards the Avenue of Trade. He had more things to follow up in, and he would have to end his days here, "Go to your Mother's Grave and say goodbye to her. Then, go to your father, remember his face, and say goodbye to him to. Then, your home, remember what you see therein, and then you should say goodbye to that too. If you wish to own yourself from now on, do this: follow me."

[Ashari]

"Me? Forgive you?" I was as if the thought had never occurred to her - had never been proposed to her before. Anna's feelings never mattered much to anyone, not even herself. No one had ever established in her a sense of self-worth, and as Matiel posed her with a new conundrum. "Well, sure. Of course," she blushed and her feet skuffled along beneath her skirts.

Overhead the sky blazed hot and humid. It was mid tradetide or so. As for reasons why the harbor was closing, there was nothing obvious. There were a few groups of military men moving around the harbor and insisting people keep moving. There were also a few naval ships holding out the perimeter of the harbor, and only allowing certain vessels into the safety of the cove.

Annabelle kept close to Matiel as he walked from the harbor toward the southern portion of the Avenue of Trade. "I can do what you've asked," she said. "Are you going to come with me? Or.. or am I supposed to do this alone?"

[Matiel Escariot]

"You will do this along."

Matiel's pace slowly began to drift farther away from Anna's own steps. He was watching the sky as he spoke, mindful of the time. He had need to meet someone. Someone which he hoped still had his wits about him.

Notwen. Matiel could never shake off that contraption the gnome made which increased the strength of another's arms. In his own bag he had kept his gauntlets and bracers, ever mindful of the day he would need to use the things Khaede had taught him. Ah, Khaede. In time his work will soon bring that man closer. Matiel wanted to finish his learning. He was still disappointed that his own hands were not strong enough for the things he wanted to do. He hoped Notwen's own devising could help with that.

"But, do remember. If you forget the face of your father, your hands will never strike true. Now, go. When you are done you will meet me in the Laughing King's Tavern at Eve's Tide. There is someone there I want you to meet."