Arc 5: Chapter 6: Home, For A Time
As evening settled over the bay, the latest bout of rain broke to give way to a rising moon. It was the lesser one which waxed near full that night, distant and cold compared to its sibling, shaded in chill blues and dour grays. Its pale light left the waters of the bay a shining black, save for a single blade of silver tracing a path to the horizon.
The eye of the Corpse Moon shone over the dock neighborhood where Emma and I had made our temporary home. One of many such waterside communities across the city, it was set near enough to the Fulgurkeep to give us easy access to the palace. We returned after nightfall, both dressed inconspicuously to lower the chances of anyone learning where we slept, our battle gear carried in bags.
Our present lodgings consisted of a small house tucked near the wharf, two stories, with a tiled roof and its own little dock feeding into the lagoon. I’d acquired a boat as well, allowing me to slip into the canals for more efficient travel.
“Pleasant night,” Rudy, the docker I paid to keep an eye on the place, said to us from where he sat with a fishing pole near the door.
It was our code for “all clear.” I nodded to him, slipped him some coin, and unlocked the door as he tipped his hat in thanks. When a gaggle of threatening whispers disturbed the shadows some distance away, he shuffled nervously and focused on his fishing. He hadn’t yet gotten used to the eerie whispers and liquid darkness which tended to disturb my surroundings, the result of ghosts drawn by the aureflame I carried in me.
The first floor of the little house was clean and bare of much furnishings. It had a stove for cooking and heat during colder weather, some stools and a table, and wall hooks for clothing or lamps. It had a pantry, a side room where Emma slept, and a set of stairs leading up to the second floor where I kept my things.
Home. For now.
Emma lit a pair of alchemical lamps, the most popular source of light since western trade had flooded into the subcontinent, and hung them along the wall. I got the stove going as she gathered some things from the pantry. We didn’t talk much as I prepared a meal, both wandering the tangles of our own thoughts.
When we both sat at the small table with bowls of steaming fish soup and buttered bread, Emma ignored the food at first and watched me. She’d vanished into her room long enough to strip out of her billowy tunic and shirt of steel links, now left only in a cotton shirt and men’s trousers not dissimilar from what I wore. I’d stowed my armor and red cloak upstairs, leaving my axe propped against the wall nearby within easy reach, same as Emma did with her saber.
“So?” Emma asked, pressing the tips of her fingers together.
I grunted, idly soaking my bread in the soup. “So.”