Rynth: Four Beats

| 9th of Teryusin — Year 362 of the Cycle of Synthesis, Grand Cycle ??? |

Idri kept close to Raoul. Her hand tightened around his right, their fingers interlocked tight enough that anyone outside of their friend group would glean more than just a few misunderstandings. She liked how warm he was. How each grasp of hers was reciprocated with one from him. Not to match her strength—not like he could anyway, but to remind her that he was right there and had an ear ready for any fantastical whims she might think up. That thought alone comforted her as much as his nonchalant approach to spoiling her with physical affection.

The vast, disorderly mob was second in her mind. A few ignorant souls would sometimes try to slide past their connected hands (and attempt to lash out when stopped by Idri), but would give up when the sword on her back unsheathed itself and pointed a menacing tip in their direction. Kranstor was odd in that way. It always felt warmer—about as warm as a cold piece of broken steel could—when she was around Raoul. She kept that peculiar sense of kinship down and simply accepted the gift at face value. Trying to question a silent sword verbally would only net her more than a few strange gazes from her friends. At least right then, she was confident that it would not seek to harm him nor the rest of her friends. Especially after willingly allowing itself to be used by Raoul. Especially after it had somehow withheld the brunt of its trauma-inducing side effects from him. Such a thing had never happened, even for her.

Maybe I’ll ask him to brush my hair today. Hmm… I wonder if he likes short hair? I should ask him.

She reached over with her free hand to draw his attention. A little click sounded. He didn’t seem to hear it. Neither did she, nor did Avil or Cali. Come to think of it, where were they? They hadn’t spoken in the last minute. She craned her head sideways, attempting to focus her ears forward. The warmth that caressed her own hand subsided suddenly, as if pulled away by some mysterious force. She attempted to sway her arm over, trying to touch Raoul to regain her footing. The noise in the crowd was growing more chaotic. Making out anything amidst the slew of voices was about as impossible as hunting for a five-leaf clover.

Her hand rested on someone. Big, bulky. Muscular. Not Raoul.

She found another. Slender, petite. A child. Not Raoul.

Lanky. Woolen clothes. Not Raoul.

She opened her lips to call out, “Raoul? Where are you? Avil? Cali? Guys? Is… is this a prank?”

There was no response, at least from the three she was searching for. She continued to push past the dozens of people in her way, using the blunt pommel of Kranstor to nudge them out of her path. A few would stop to reprimand her, but she ignored them all and continued to look for her friends.

It took more than three minutes to be rid of the packed hell. Both annoyed and overwhelmed, Idri continued to call for her friends, and much to her own dismay, they did not respond no matter how much she tried. Calm down,Idri! We were going to The Honeyed Tankard. I should just retrace my steps and follow the street. I could also just ask for directions. I can handle this.

Instead of chasing a fool’s errand, she pivoted. She found the nearest bystander—a slightly disheveled man with an almost obnoxious rag of bedhead about twice her age dressed in a ragged tunic and half-reeking with alcohol—and asked for directions.

“Hello! Can I get directions to The Honeyed Tankard?”

The man brought a hand to stroke his beard. She couldn’t see it, but scores of little dagger scars and calluses lined his palms and knuckles. A cold, calculating expression showed itself on his face for a split second before it returned to his previous faux-ignorant look. “Lost, little lady? Just go straight, follow this street, and take a right. You’ll hear the sound of the water from the fountain of the Queen of Waters. Just walk past it.”

The fountain! Now that was some familiarity. Idri vividly recalled Solus mentioning the fountain. She brightened into a smile and gave the man a slight bow before continuing on. “Thank you! Follow the street and take a right, then walk past the fountain. Got it…”

He waved her off. Stifling the chuckle that followed afterward was a little too difficult. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a small brass pocket watch along with the accompanying key and began winding it up. When that was finished, he consulted the two arms behind the glass surface, grinning as they closed in on noon. “Should be about time. One minute.”

Idri continued on unaware. What the man had deliberately neglected to inform her of was now facing her down with more than a blatant presence. Her boots left the smoothness of the paved sidewalk less than half a minute later. Were roads really prone to ending so abruptly? She raised a hand in front of her to feel around. Cold, hard, and rough. It was a wall. Had she really been walking that long? Shaking her head, Idri traced the wall and stepped off to the side, attempting to find a gap in the walls. There. The resistance disappeared in an instant, and her hand sunk in. A cold breeze passed at about the same time, not so much foreboding, but odd enough given the lack of wind when they had arrived in Vonas.

Rapid steps forced in her direction. Idri attempted to steer out of the way, but the child in all their speed could not avoid her in time. A crash ensued, but only the child fell down, spraining their ankle. Despite the injury, the child didn’t seem to be in much pain. No more than the reaction of someone who had just gotten pricked by a needle and drawn blood.

“Owie… sorry, miss! Are you okay?”

Said child quickly brought herself to her feet and waddled their way over to Idri, tilting her head sideways in concern.

“Mm,” Idri nodded, caressing the spot of her stomach that the child had faceplanted into. “I’m fine. But what about you? You crashed into me so quickly. Did you break anything? Broken bones are a problem, you know.”

The child, a pint-sized girl with long, red and white-highlighted hair, twirled around in circles, completely unfazed. The sprain on her ankle fizzed for a slight moment, and within a few seconds all signs of it were consumed in a small mass of Jati. It was gone, replaced by the delicate skin behind the distortion. It was like the injury hadn’t even occurred.

“I’m fine! I’ve never broken a bone. I can run, run, and run all over and never get injured even if I trip and fall.”

Idri’s reply was interrupted. Twelve more sets of steps paced in from the far end of the alley the child had come from. Leading them all was a young elven woman clad in a flowy black dress. A curved wreath of black was beset in her snow white hair, of which was about as long as Idri’s. Hands clasped together, she hurried over to the girl’s side and pressed her hands to her cheeks, pinching them.

“Isha! What was that crash? Have I not already told you not to run in the streets? Did you hit this lady? Apologize!”

Behind her, a multitude of reactions rose from the children. Giggles, smirks, and sighs of exasperation.

“That’s Isha,” one boy said. “She doesn’t listen.”

Another raised her hand. “Miss Nea! If she wants to run, we should have her chase Igor later. He’s run out of his kennel again.”

“She’s the fastest of us, but she doesn’t look ahead.”

Idri frantically shook her head, waving her hands in front. “No, it’s really okay! I couldn’t see her, so I couldn’t move away in time. And I didn’t get hurt. I’m concerned about… Isha, was it? I think she hurt herself when she crashed into me.”

“I’m fine!” Isha reassured, raising a thumbs up and a smile.

The elf examined the girl’s body for a few moments and breathed a sigh of relief when nothing concerning turned up. Isha’s body was untouched for the most part, save for the dirt and mud that had gotten on her knees during the crash. “It’s okay. She’s… unique. So are the other children. Still, we ought to apologize. Would you come with us for a bit? I’ll make you some tea.”

“Oh! I… I do have to get going, though,” replied Idri. “I’m looking for my friends. We got separated along the way.”

Isha stepped out of the elven woman’s clutches and grabbed hold of Idri’s hand, pulling her into the alley. “Please come! Miss Nea’s really good at cooking. I’ll help you find your friends later.”

It didn’t take long for Idri to relent and follow along. She allowed Isha to pull her onward into the alleyway.

“I guess… I’m going to worry Raoul, though. What is this?”

The elven woman—Nea, kept to her side and helped guide her forward, somehow already figuring out that Idri was blind. “Again, we apologize. We’re a ragtag group of orphans. I take care of these children. I’m Nea. This is… well, we call it Caesarea. It’s a family for kids I’ve taken in.”