CadetNewb
Well-Known Member
Blacksite 34
YE 38
This was one of the last bastions of the Elves, or so she had been told. Deep within the forest of Wyrd's Wald, the Nekovalkyrja had followed the road until it lead here here. Past the clearing stood proud, polished marble kept in pristine condition. Looking over it, she could see that the great doors were sturdy and strong, kept closed as watchful guards patrolled along the wall. The human town she had passed by earlier was protected by village strongmen who were given the job of guard, with some equipment, but what she saw here? On those walls stood professional soldiers, well drilled and trained.
Except, they were human. Had to be.
She tilted her sun-hat up and took it in, from where she stood on the very edge of it, with her 'walking stick' and her bag. Just like the history holotapes.
Well, not exactly - somehow, these elves had developed a culture far too militant to compare to the ones on Geshrintall. But the rest of it seemed to be there, in force. The magic. The long view. Just like in all the stories. But Mioshi had merged it, meshed it all together. She felt ready, like she had never been ready in all of her short years. This was the day she had been waiting on, or at least one of them. Why, it even curled her tail a little.
As she neared, so did some of the soldiers. Two of them in fact. Unlike the town guards of the previous village who wore worn mail, helmet and the odd pieces of plate, these men were as well equipped as they were physically fit. Shining bands of overlapping metal were sturdily bound together and worn over a mail hauberk, accentuating the red tunics they wore underneath. Meanwhile, their helmets were not as enclosed; just seeing the design, the Nekovalkyrja would understand they valued communication and situational awareness more than protection. Large, rectangular shields in hand but swords in their sheaths, they came, if only the shorter of the distance.
"Ave," the leading soldier greeted her. "What business have you?" the man asked, the long, crimson crest of his helmet swaying ever so slightly in the breeze.
"I am the Flutist, Mioshi," she answered, in their own language, which she had picked up more or less as she went. A Yamataian, she had held on to her accent, finding that it gave her some authenticity. "From the far east. I'm coming to perform, na?" Glancing at her from head to toe, the leading soldier continued to speak as the second one went back to keeping watch, the others on the wall wary as well.
"A flutist?" he almost scoffed. Almost. "We have no lack of flutists here in this fair city, but, being fair, if you have the mettle, you may enter." It was clear. Her skill at the flute would determine whether or not she was going to enter. Perhaps it was unfair, but already? This place already did not seem to be the most inclusive. In fact, the exact opposite.
So she pulled the Fue out, from where she kept it within her traveling satchel where she kept all of her limited belongings, and took a deep breath.
She placed her lips against it, parsed her breathing, and began to play.
At first, a strong and solid note, before she began to move her fingers. And, she began to play a song. There were two types of fue - the proper, musical fue, and the festival fue. The second was more vigorous, more demanding, with a stronger tone. And that is what she began to play.
And as she did, the rest of it fell away for her, as it usually did. People might pass by in other towns, or they might stop, but they did not, here. Who else would seek entry to this place, in a commoner's rags? But Mioshi danced for herself, one foot to the other, tail trailing, and people watched, or they didn't. But most importantly, she piped nimbly and truly, calling forth all her skill. The Guards, it seemed, were used to standing here all the time, so that is the song she played, making it up and stealing some of the tunes she head heard in the surrounding towns, while adding in some of her own.
A guard stands nimbly by his gate, she played.
And there he stands only to wait, she piped.
But where he stands is only true,
If one could stand for just a few,
And then pass by the gate?
She tried to catch the beat of the patrol, imagining the ache that must have been in their feet, and remembering some of her own boredom at her previous duties. Energetically guessing at what they might want to hear, she shortened the refrains and began to dance in time to it. Light on her slim boots, she swayed and spun where she hit a higher note, and then turned back for the lower.
Let the travelers go as they will,
And we shall stand her just until,
We are relieved,
To welcome reprive,
And then to eat our fill.
And that was the tune she played, more or less, up and down, a bright tune and an easy one. At least for her.
When she finished, she opened her pale blue eyes and lowered the Shinobue.
"I am as I say. May I enter, please?" Some guards looked laughable with how wide eyed they had become. Others nodded, an impressed frown upon their faces as they nodded. Others were only just opening their eyes as they were jabbed by their cohorts, having let the music sink into them.
"Centurion?" the lesser guard asked his leader, the younger man's eyes just a little pleading. The older, more experienced soldier sighed.
"It is not a matter of duplicity, but quality hospes," the Centurion replied, calling Mioshi a foreigner to boot. "Having sampled your music, we deem it acceptable. You may enter." Turning and nodding, the great doors swinging outwards, the Nekovalkyrja was greeted by a glimpse of something that looked all too familiar. A city. A proper, urbanized city with streets and traffic. Only, it all seemed so 'quaint' - horses pulled wagons while people in tunics and togas went about their daily business.
The architecture alone was almost Elysian even, but more utilitarian. It was a strange place indeed. Behind her, the guards were already whispering amongst themselves however. With the way they glanced at her, something was afoot, but just what?
She noted it. She filed it away, just like she put away her flute, and then she settled her staff upon her shoulders. Well, whatever it was, she knew that it would either catch up to her in time or it wouldn't. Most things did. Rumors flew faster than even telepathy, it seemed, and from their reaction she knew that she had made an impression.
It wasn't the only impression she had made. Yamataian folk music, unknown as it was both here and in her own planet, had quite a strange affect. But it was something that a person could work to, even manual labor, and so she had found it wholly not unwelcome. It had been paying her meals.
And that was just fine for her. After all, it felt sort of like she was just playing around, here. Like an adventure novel, except too real.
But she wasn't playing a game; she was doing her job. She adjusted her broad hat and carried on through the busy streets full of bustling, seemingly rich people. A capitalist, or at least mercantile system that relied on its currency to boast some measure of value. She idly snagged one or two of the hanging belt-purses using one of her fine-honed throwing knives as she passed, just because she could, and also because she knew that though she would be suspect, as a foreigner 'from the east', it would be impossible to prove she had done so unless they found the actual purses - which they never, ever did.
It was how she kept out of smashing goblins and fighting hobgoblins, and orcs, and the like.
Not that she couldn't do those things. But, they would make her notable.
Well, more notable than the flute, anyway.
This seemed safe enough, and meant she could keep traveling in not only a foreign land, but upon a foreign planet. Plus, it seemed like most people who wandered as musicians or magicians or whatever, it seemed to her as though they were somehow allowed to steal certain amounts and get away with it, which suited Mioshi just fine. Polite as she was, it paid her room and board, whatever else it did.
The clanking of plates and ring of polished chainmail caught her feline ears. Putting the coins away, things apparently pressed en-masse from what she could tell, Mioshi found her gaze settling on a single soldier rushing over to her, shield, armor and all. It was the young man following the Centurion from before, and seeing that she saw him, he waved at her. So, with no chance to blend in to the crowd, she stopped and lifted a hand in response, wondering just why. Marching along the stone paved streets, the hobnails of his caligae almost seemed to trumpet his arrival as he came up to her side. Though he panted, just a bit, he never stooped over to catch his breath.
"Ave! My apologies for such abruptness," the young man began. "I am Legionnaire Titus Canius. You're most unfamiliar with our fair city, and such is our appreciation for you music, we thought that it was only proper that you were given a guide," he explained.
"Wow," Mioshi exclaimed at him, the very picture of politeness. She might not really have wanted an escort, but an escort having been provided, it wasn't as though she would complain. "Really? That would be very kind. I do not want to be too much of a burden to you. I can usually get by on my own very well. Do you mind if I ask questions? May I?"
"Oh, I'd be utterly glad to!" Titus exclaimed, adjusting his helmet. "Would you like to get a drink of posca or something to eat while we do so? I'm sure you're famished from your long journey," he added. Seeing the hustle and bustle of the city around her, it was clear that whatever offerings it had would not disappoint. At least, not in comparison to the other human towns she had visited so far.
So the answer was obviously, "Where would be the best place for that?"
She held her staff close and looked up at him through her long, near-white bangs, and smiled. "I have not ate for a while. Also they may allow me to play my music so, you would be doing me a favor. If it is an inn or some place that also rents space that is even better." With how closely she seemed to look at him, the youth couldn't help but blush, just a little. The fact the helmet wasn't fully enclosed did not help him to hide this too much either.
"Oh, the tabernae of course," he suggested, the word sounding all too familiar as to just what it was. Of course it had to be a tavern. It seemed that it 'twas the staple where ever she went.
"Would you mind?" she asked, knowing this sort of person within her heart of hearts by all the tales and songs and writing that had been put up about him. The young guard, or soldier, frequenting the watering hole, and looking for true love, or whatever else people tended to believe in. "It's okay, if you drink a little too, isn't it?" He immediately stiffened at that.
"Regulations forbid drinking while on duty my lady," he coughed. "Plus, I do not think I would be of any service to you inebriated," the young man added a little sheepishly. As a response, she flattened her platinum-furred ears and curled her tail up, though not severely.
"I'm just Mioshi. I am sure it would be fine if you had just one or two, anyway. They did loan you to me, didn't they, Titus?" The young Legionnaire blustered for a moment, at a loss for words, but finally managed to reply, conceding, just a bit.
"Well, it'll only be punished if I were to cause a disturbance I suppose." He wasn't comfortable with the idea, but, who could disagree with Mioshi? Especially when her tail was moving just so? Leading the way, they soon found just what he was talking about. A 'Tabernae' - in truth, it really was a tavern. Just one that was much nicer than the ones she had visited before. With large open windows and a wide entrance, it maintained the cozy atmosphere while letting in plenty of sun and staying well ventilated. "I can't imagine what such places are outside of our city, not built to code," the Legionnaire shook his head.
Finding a seat, he took off his helmet and ran a hand through his short brown hair and called a maid over to order. Not surprisingly, it was another human being, her brown hair set in a long braid. Interestingly enough, Mioshi had yet to see a single elf, despite having been told that this was a city of them.
"Can I have two drinks?" she asked the young woman, perfectly content to take this a step at a time. She noticed several things about the girl; her age, her height, her relative economic status. This was someone who worked for a living, but might have worked since she was much younger, if the ease with which she sashayed about were any indication.
Mioshi also noticed the way the two looked at each other. Not friends, not lovers, but certainly familiar. People who knew each other. And that got filed away in the back of her mind. She decided to test it a bit to see how far it ran.
"Whatever the special is? My friend Titus is lent to me for a moment, so I would like to pay for him also." This got the young Legionnaire with her to suddenly start.
"Nonsense! As a man and a citizen, I can't let you do that!" he exclaimed, though not loud enough to turn heads. He may have been young, but he most certainly had his pride. Letting her pay would have hurt it. Looking back at the maid, Titus handed her the coin for their meal in advance, and with a polite nod, went to get them their food and drink. "The outside world may be harsh and unfair, but I assure you that it is different here," he explained to her.
Mioshi smoothed her long, straight bangs back out of her face and then settled her hands in her lap, sitting upright on the bar stool, staff leaning against the bar. She reflected on that statement for a moment, weighing it down in a dozen ways and lifting it up in a few more. In the end, she simply flicked an ear and looked over at him and smiled.
She had been right, naturally.
"I have only been in the outside world, so...?" He shook his head at the idea.
"And I have only been here," Titus quickly replied. "However, I already know for certain that the lands beyond this Elvish Bastion are far from right and proper." He leaned in, his voice quieting just a little. "This may be one of the last remaining vestiges of the Elven Empire, but we will remain proud, civilized folk to the end." He told her a lot more than he ever knew - what was perhaps common knowledge here was a hint of gold for her.
In her mellow, mild way, she nodded to him, apparently giving his opinion the meek acceptance that any subservient, wandering musician should.
"I like their music," she decided to say, taking a different tack. "They do not pay very well but, I played for the as they worked in the fields, and they made me feel welcome. They seem very lively, but they are poor and seem troubled by something." Mioshi already knew the answer - goblins. Monsters. What she didn't know, was how much the Capital knew about it. The people who served, on this planet, as the leaders and those responsible. The people who knew about 'magic'.
"There is always trouble from without," Titus began, the food and wine arriving. Sitting before Mioshi was a traditional food of the city, a flatbread topped with a pesto-like sauce and goat cheese, accompanied by wine. Watered down wine. Looking around at the patrons however, this seemed to be the norm at every table. But why? That thought aside, she went to roll it as though it were one of the farmer's rolls, filled with bits of whatever it was they happened to have on hand and seasoned, but to her slight embarrassment found that it didn't roll. Instead, she floundered for a moment, delving into the depths of her experience and knowledge of history.
She found approximately jack and shit, and for once ended up looking embarrassed. The 'nekomata' pushed her hair back again, to keep it out of her face--always a concern, with the way she wore her hair--and blushed at Titus.
"Sorry, I've never seen food like this. How is it eaten, please?" the Neko asked. Looking up at her as he poured out some olive oil onto a small plate, Titus honestly seemed surprised. After all, how could someone not know how to eat this? She could see as understanding soon came to him however, a hint of amusement showing as he blushed in turn, just a bit.
"Like this. You have to break bread at meals after all," he demonstrated, tearing his soft, warm, tender flatbread into more manageable pieces. The moment he did so, he dipped it into the shallow plate of olive oil and took a small bite, enjoying his food before washing it down with a sip of his wine. "Go ahead, try it," he encouraged her.
She mimicked him, a little thrilled and more than a little curious. She tore, dipped carefully, and then took a bite. It crunched a bit, and that surprised her, but she ended up nearly eating the thing whole. She certainly could have. In the end she suckled a finger or two, having delved too deep into the flavorful, almost tart and pungent oil, but it was good anyway.
"I like it," she said, meaning it, as she went to carefully tear off another piece, fascinated. She had analyzed it. It was just dough, fried, and some sort of base vegetable-herb sauce, and certain spices, and the cheese of some animal, but really the presentation defied scientific understanding. She stopped trying to understand on that level for the moment and just decided to enjoy it and get on with her actual job.
"I've really never had anything like it. Is it something just made here? You said, there was always trouble in the outside world?" He smiled, glad that she liked it.
"Well, it apparently is only found here if you've never had it. It's common fare." He sighed. "With the fall of The Empire, a great many things were lost. I never thought it would go so far as the food as well," Titus admitted. When the Nekovalkyrja asked about the outside trouble however, he perked up. Other than a woman, nothing got a man hot under the collar like a fight would. "Yes. The outside world is always constantly ravaged with monsters. Goblins for an example, are everywhere, but nobody takes them seriously like The Empire did," he explained. "With how often they harass and attack, a civilization is never secure and will never advance unless they are kept in check by Legions dedicated to the defense of the people," the young man proudly proclaimed.
He blushed the moment he realized he had gotten a little too patriotic and awkwardly coughed.
"Is it true? That, and forgive me, the Barbarian Kingdoms hire adventurers to slay marauding monsters?" Mioshi took that in at face value, almost; internally she measured it against what she knew of her own Empire's history, and found it more or less sound. However, at the same time, here in this context she found that strangely, she identified more with the poor who had taken her in and given her most of what they had, in exchange for only a little labor and the music of her flute. This town, by contrast...
"With how active even the Hobgoblins have been in particular as of late, there's no way they'd stem the tide, and those are only active if they sense weakness, or gold is to be paid for their services." He shook his head. "A bad omen. One bad enough that rumors are starting to float about. Baseless rumors of course, I assure you."
"I haven't heard many of them," she said. She took another bite of the food, thinking to herself that it was delicious and unique. "There are not many Tabernae" she continued afterwards, mimicking his accent quite well, "where I have been traveling. Is it so bad? I had heard a whisper of some artifact of doom and, I thought, other bad omens, but what have you heard? Perhaps we can trade stories." He thought over it for a moment before taking a sip of his watered wine.
"The Graceful Ones keep their long ears to the ground, not us. They lead, and we follow. It has always been that way, so I hear very little," the young man admitted, the words surprisingly modest despite his arrogant pride in his city-state. "I've heard not of an artificer's doom device, but, the omens hint towards the rise of a new Evil coming. Whether it be a Lich King, Demonic Incursion or a new Dark Lord, I know not." Scratching his chin in thought though, his face lit up as something popped into his mind. "Slave uprisings are solely the omen of a Dark Lord though, and the Barbarous Kingdoms have been having many more of those lately."
Stretching out, he soon rose from his chair.
"But enough of that. Is there anywhere else you'd be curious about? The bath houses are absolutely wondrous," he proudly proclaimed, only to awkwardly blush a moment later. Titus however, was smart enough to shut up at that point, and not start babbling embarrassed nonsense.
It wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the last time Mioshi had been oggled. She suspected that she hadn't been well received just for her flutistry, though the young Nekovalkyrja certainly prided herself upon it. She still tried to keep herself clean, enough to flatter, and though she wore a traveler's garb, she had taken pains that it didn't become too soiled. And she tried to be flattered that, apparently, this young man thought she wasn't ugly, despite that.
"I wouldn't mind," Mioshi stated, surprising herself by how much she actually meant that; when was the last time she had actually had a decent bath? "I haven't had a chance for warm water in what feels like years."
But she hadn't touched her wine, so she did, taking gulps of the watered down stuff - just like, she thought, a peasant might. That was her rear-brain though; most of her just wanted to down the drink, hydrate herself as much as she could, and then maybe finish off the flatbread.
She didn't need to eat half as much as she wanted to. But the farmers and most of the people she had been living off of recently had been poor fare, and it made even this sort of rarity seem like it. When she had been studying ancient histories in Vicky's vast collection of knowledge about everything, she hadn't really counted on people being half so poor or so miserable as she found them. Magical world, indeed.
"Was that what they were talking about on the wall?" she asked, innocently, reaching for another bite of the seasoned bread and giving him a plaintive look. Whether she was fooling him, or herself, by keeping him talking, anyone's guess at this point. Either way she knew quite well that this bread wasn't going to eat itself and that it was going to reside the night in her stomach no matter how full she stuffed it.
So that's what she did. She waited, of course, bite to bite, a significant amount of time. Decorum. Politeness. She could of course just shove the whole thing in her mouth, but that wouldn't befit the person whom she was playing, nor the part. Instead, just another piece of it. Another dip in the oil. Munch.
Legionnaire or not, Titus' cheeks only grew more red.
"By The Nine, no!" he exclaimed. "Or, yes? Maybe?" the young man grew more flustered. Scratching his head for a bit, he soon donned his helmet again as he thought it over. "They were thinking that the Consul of the city would enjoy your music. And company," Titus explained, looking away from Mioshi. "So, I drew the short straw, and they wanted me to show you our fair city - it's a high honor, really!" Biting his knuckle, he explained a little more, "You'll be granted access to the inner city, whenever you're ready. Things are even nicer there, and if you do wish to bathe, I suggest there instead, as the baths for a guest of the Consul would be private."
Setting the goblet down, Mioshi processed that, thinking for a moment that she might have mistranslated it. But, she hadn't.
On the one hand, a bath. Food. An obviously nubile and horribly embarrassed young soldier. On the other hand, she could simply walk into the inner sanctuary of the elves, the place they kept apart from literally every other race existent on this planet, just like that. She searched his face and measured his expression against most of those she knew by heart; here was someone, embarrassed. Maybe he had drawn the short stick. Maybe they had forced him into this?
"I don't really have a choice, then?" she asked, feigning perplexion, and half-wondering how far she could push this person. He shifted nervously in his lorica, the plates and maile clinking together before he finally answered.
"The Consul may not know of you yet," he carefully began to explain, "But, it is not uncommon for them to know, and keep silent until fates are sealed." The words he chose had a certain finality to them, but he was quick to point out the upsides again. "Even if that were the case however, they are magnanimous; you will be well compensated for whatever services you provide, as befitting our civil city." Letting a moment pass, he also admitted something else. "Your music is quite nice, so. I do not believe it to be likely that your art will displease him. The opposite in fact."
Her tail swayed idly as she considered, quite seriously. In the back of her mind were her Directives. Had she been found out? Would she, could she flee now? No. It couldn't be yjsy. Who would have told on her? What would have hinted? Even if they had outed her as a false foreigner, they would have had to send word back too far east to conscience it.
Coincidence. It was coincidence. Or her music, as he claimed.
She tore off another bit of the flatbread, dipping it, eating it. Was her time here limited? Did she have to go, just now? Well, he had stood up, hadn't he, and here she was stuffing her face in the middle of a local dive, looking awkward. And probably more than a little bit pathetic, truth be told. Mioshi said softly,
"Ah, so. You really haven't eaten much, and... I feel a little bad. Are you sure? Do you not want paid, or would you like to come with me, or...?" Hearing her say this, Titus finally bowed his head to her.
"Wherever the wind blows, I shall follow," the soldier solemnly replied. She hooked her tail around her walking staff, reached across the table, and slid his near-unstained plate over towards him a little bit.
"Right now I just want to eat and drink a little, and then we can go." Blinking once, then twice in surprise, the Legionnaire realized he was standing and sat down with due haste.
"My apologies, we are...not in a hurry. Technically." He might have been a young man, but he wasn't a fool it seemed. "It's uncommon one such as yourself appears, so, there are no expectations as to how this will turn out," Titus explained. Looking at how she ate, he wondered, "Would you perhaps want more?" The Neko wasn't eating ravenously, but, she was eating with religious devotion to the task.
Mioshi looked up from where she was, naturally, dipping another one of the bits into the oil. She had, by herself, now devoured about half of the fare, considerately leaving him the other - what he had seemed to have chosen, with his fingers and by simple polite decorum. Though it might have looked as though she were starving, it was the flavor that interested her; she had never tasted this sort of fare before, and was squirreling it away jealously in the back of her mind with a will to recreate and catalogue.
"What else is there to eat here? There must be a few other things, maybe? It is alright, like I said. You really do not have to pay for it so, just tell me about this place for a little while and please relax. I notice, there are not many of my kind here, so I do not get to talk very often like this."
A complete barefaced lie, but one she told with easy humility, and wilting ears. Just who could resist someone like her?
"Beaver tail," he said with strong conviction. It seemed so certain, it was almost manly with it. "A local delicacy which I think you'll like." Once he ordered it up though, Titus thought over the last that she said, and what the older Legionaries were muttering amongst themselves. "It wasn't my watch, but, the others did mention seeing someone with feline ears and practically Elvish beauty." The moment he said that, how Mioshi looked started to stand out all the more. Everyone around her had some sort of flaws, even if they were small and minor. But her?
"She was a woman with orange hair streaked with black, and hinted with snowy white. Perhaps she may have been allowed passage into the Inner City as well," he offered, hoping to be helpful.
Mioshi held her hair back, blowing gently on the piping hot food that had been delivered a few moments before by the pretty young waitress. Though Mioshi noticed his eyes didn't stray, and wondered at it, she dismissed that off handedly. After all, she had been seeking the man's attention since the moment she had realized he could help her, so it made a certain amount of calculated sense.
"She must have been really special," the Snowy Nekovalkyrja said, "It sounds like she was really very unique. I wonder how she gets her hair that way? I can't even dye mine." He simply shook his head.
"Sadly, it seemed the guards were so struck, they simply let her in only after minor questioning." Thinking over it a bit, Titus added, "I suppose with your arrival, the Centurion does not wish to miss an opportunity to be rewarded, though, feels guilty enough about this that he'd have another do the coercion." It was an odd sentiment, but, thinking back to how he acted, what he said, honor seemed to play a key role in their society.
Mioshi took a bite of the beaver tail and found it to be an utter shock. It smelled like crispy pork, but was soft like a white meat. The beaver tail was tender and rich with fatty flavor. One that practically melted in her mouth like some of the finest of fine wagyu. She savored it, liking it, and wondering if there were any pepper. Well, if even a shadow of that passed along her expression, she didn't show it; nor did she show that she wished for hashi and dipping sauce, so that she wouldn't have to use her fingers. But this culture didn't seem to consider it odd at all, to just use your nails or your fingers or even the knife from your belt, so neither did she. She ate, tail weaving happily beneath her linen skirt.
Mioshi briefly considered dipping some of the stuff in oil, but thought better of it. That seemed to be just for the slightly spicier flatbread.
"If you don't want to, you don't have to come with me," she told him, looking across the table. "Is the Consul that frightening?" The young man immediately straightened when she said this.
"It is not the Consul I fear, but the dishonor of having been tasked of-of herding you about like a prize lamb! It shames me," Titus explained, his voice rising with just a bit of fire. It seemed that honor was a big part of their society with the ways it had been brought up so far. "In the end though, your path is your own - I beseech thee not to be intimidated by my superior's wants of salary," the Legionnaire added.
Immediately, Mioshi set about thinking of ways to alleviate this, or fence it off, suddenly feeling bad for the man. She gave him an almost plaintive look, watching him with concern. It couldn't hurt to have a friend who was a guard, she was thinking, but on the surface she did her best to seem just as intimidated as he thought she should be, tilting her ears back.
"Well," she asked at length, "What do you want? What should I do?" Sighing, Titus scratched his chin in thought, his finger reaching in between its plates to do so.
"In truth, The Graceful Ones are always patrons of the arts - should you present yourself to the Consul, he will pay you well for a sampling of your muse." Again, he glanced at her with less than honorable eyes, and looked away with guilt. "You should still be wary as a woman however. They are capricious, and though you are not Elven, I suspect you are somehow fey. If not he, than possibly others may take interest. Well paid interest of course." Cracking his back to try and get some of the stress out, he grumbled, "At least the gossip would be worthwhile."
"Gossip?" she asked, curling her tail around her staff and pulling it to her hand; she then leaned it against her shoulder from beneath the table, and looped her arm over it. It was meant to look a little protective, and in addition to that, she also liked it being close. After all, this was her primary defense, in this world. She fixed her light gray-blue eyes on him, and though she only smiled at him a little bit, she was certainly curious. Not only at the prospect of being caught up in some marvelous little romantic intrigue with creatures she had only read vague stories about, but also, she did have her job to do. "Do you mean, they would want to hear of the outside world?"
"Quite possibly, however, they keep an ear to the ground. Or at least have someone do it for them," Titus admitted. "Personally, I'd be glad to hear whatever I can from their table. They usually keep it to themselves, but seem to allow esteemed guests to overhear their talk. Perhaps as an acknowledgement of respect." The young man shrugged. "They are always difficult to fully comprehend." It was clear that even this common soldier was far better educated than those Mioshi had seen outside, yet, still had a subservient role. What he said was perhaps the biggest clue of them all.
The elves spread truth and rumors through their servants.
Mioshi swiveled her ears for a moment without looking around; no conversation, no movement, for several meters around them. They were close enough, not to be overheard by the curious or the nosy. So she decided, and said,
"Let's meet again after you're off of work. I'll sneak out from the inner city. I'm sure I'll hear something fun by then." His eyebrows rose with surprise as quickly as they fell with concern.
"Are you certain? Though our fair city is most orderly, you've yet to find your way around as a newcomer. I could show you the way if you're not one to find your own for fancy," Titus offered.Mioshi tapped her nose, saying,
"I am good at finding my way. But, I wouldn't mind if you took me there. I will remember the path we take. Afterwards, should we meet here, again?" He firmly nodded.
"My family runs this place, so it is no hassle at all," Titus pointed this out to her. Suddenly, something else made sense.
"So, that is your sister?" she asked, looking over to where the waitress was moving about, waiting tables.
"Um, why yes," Titus replied, a little surprised. "Why do you ask?"
"I can see the resemblance. I was wondering." Mioshi filed her appearance away in the back of her mind, then looked back at him and shrugged, helpless. A little at a loss, he nodded, shrugging. For him, this was perhaps business it seemed, nevermind that it was business with someone that was drop dead gorgeous despite the humble clothing and unassuming demeanor. That, or he was simply a bit dense due to inexperience. Looking up at him through her pale, flaxen bangs, she meekly offered,
"Ah, sorry. Anyway, I am finished, so we can go now." Hearing her, the soldier rose once again, adjusting his armor as he did so.
"Then to the inner city?" he offered again.
She, too, rose, taking her staff to hand and straightening her belted blouse skirt over her slender traveling slacks. "Yes. Please."
Mioshi would just have to see what they had in store for her. Then, afterwards, she would see what else she could worm out of this young guard.
For better or worse, her adventure was just beginning.
YE 38
This was one of the last bastions of the Elves, or so she had been told. Deep within the forest of Wyrd's Wald, the Nekovalkyrja had followed the road until it lead here here. Past the clearing stood proud, polished marble kept in pristine condition. Looking over it, she could see that the great doors were sturdy and strong, kept closed as watchful guards patrolled along the wall. The human town she had passed by earlier was protected by village strongmen who were given the job of guard, with some equipment, but what she saw here? On those walls stood professional soldiers, well drilled and trained.
Except, they were human. Had to be.
She tilted her sun-hat up and took it in, from where she stood on the very edge of it, with her 'walking stick' and her bag. Just like the history holotapes.
Well, not exactly - somehow, these elves had developed a culture far too militant to compare to the ones on Geshrintall. But the rest of it seemed to be there, in force. The magic. The long view. Just like in all the stories. But Mioshi had merged it, meshed it all together. She felt ready, like she had never been ready in all of her short years. This was the day she had been waiting on, or at least one of them. Why, it even curled her tail a little.
As she neared, so did some of the soldiers. Two of them in fact. Unlike the town guards of the previous village who wore worn mail, helmet and the odd pieces of plate, these men were as well equipped as they were physically fit. Shining bands of overlapping metal were sturdily bound together and worn over a mail hauberk, accentuating the red tunics they wore underneath. Meanwhile, their helmets were not as enclosed; just seeing the design, the Nekovalkyrja would understand they valued communication and situational awareness more than protection. Large, rectangular shields in hand but swords in their sheaths, they came, if only the shorter of the distance.
"Ave," the leading soldier greeted her. "What business have you?" the man asked, the long, crimson crest of his helmet swaying ever so slightly in the breeze.
"I am the Flutist, Mioshi," she answered, in their own language, which she had picked up more or less as she went. A Yamataian, she had held on to her accent, finding that it gave her some authenticity. "From the far east. I'm coming to perform, na?" Glancing at her from head to toe, the leading soldier continued to speak as the second one went back to keeping watch, the others on the wall wary as well.
"A flutist?" he almost scoffed. Almost. "We have no lack of flutists here in this fair city, but, being fair, if you have the mettle, you may enter." It was clear. Her skill at the flute would determine whether or not she was going to enter. Perhaps it was unfair, but already? This place already did not seem to be the most inclusive. In fact, the exact opposite.
So she pulled the Fue out, from where she kept it within her traveling satchel where she kept all of her limited belongings, and took a deep breath.
She placed her lips against it, parsed her breathing, and began to play.
At first, a strong and solid note, before she began to move her fingers. And, she began to play a song. There were two types of fue - the proper, musical fue, and the festival fue. The second was more vigorous, more demanding, with a stronger tone. And that is what she began to play.
And as she did, the rest of it fell away for her, as it usually did. People might pass by in other towns, or they might stop, but they did not, here. Who else would seek entry to this place, in a commoner's rags? But Mioshi danced for herself, one foot to the other, tail trailing, and people watched, or they didn't. But most importantly, she piped nimbly and truly, calling forth all her skill. The Guards, it seemed, were used to standing here all the time, so that is the song she played, making it up and stealing some of the tunes she head heard in the surrounding towns, while adding in some of her own.
A guard stands nimbly by his gate, she played.
And there he stands only to wait, she piped.
But where he stands is only true,
If one could stand for just a few,
And then pass by the gate?
She tried to catch the beat of the patrol, imagining the ache that must have been in their feet, and remembering some of her own boredom at her previous duties. Energetically guessing at what they might want to hear, she shortened the refrains and began to dance in time to it. Light on her slim boots, she swayed and spun where she hit a higher note, and then turned back for the lower.
Let the travelers go as they will,
And we shall stand her just until,
We are relieved,
To welcome reprive,
And then to eat our fill.
And that was the tune she played, more or less, up and down, a bright tune and an easy one. At least for her.
When she finished, she opened her pale blue eyes and lowered the Shinobue.
"I am as I say. May I enter, please?" Some guards looked laughable with how wide eyed they had become. Others nodded, an impressed frown upon their faces as they nodded. Others were only just opening their eyes as they were jabbed by their cohorts, having let the music sink into them.
"Centurion?" the lesser guard asked his leader, the younger man's eyes just a little pleading. The older, more experienced soldier sighed.
"It is not a matter of duplicity, but quality hospes," the Centurion replied, calling Mioshi a foreigner to boot. "Having sampled your music, we deem it acceptable. You may enter." Turning and nodding, the great doors swinging outwards, the Nekovalkyrja was greeted by a glimpse of something that looked all too familiar. A city. A proper, urbanized city with streets and traffic. Only, it all seemed so 'quaint' - horses pulled wagons while people in tunics and togas went about their daily business.
The architecture alone was almost Elysian even, but more utilitarian. It was a strange place indeed. Behind her, the guards were already whispering amongst themselves however. With the way they glanced at her, something was afoot, but just what?
She noted it. She filed it away, just like she put away her flute, and then she settled her staff upon her shoulders. Well, whatever it was, she knew that it would either catch up to her in time or it wouldn't. Most things did. Rumors flew faster than even telepathy, it seemed, and from their reaction she knew that she had made an impression.
It wasn't the only impression she had made. Yamataian folk music, unknown as it was both here and in her own planet, had quite a strange affect. But it was something that a person could work to, even manual labor, and so she had found it wholly not unwelcome. It had been paying her meals.
And that was just fine for her. After all, it felt sort of like she was just playing around, here. Like an adventure novel, except too real.
But she wasn't playing a game; she was doing her job. She adjusted her broad hat and carried on through the busy streets full of bustling, seemingly rich people. A capitalist, or at least mercantile system that relied on its currency to boast some measure of value. She idly snagged one or two of the hanging belt-purses using one of her fine-honed throwing knives as she passed, just because she could, and also because she knew that though she would be suspect, as a foreigner 'from the east', it would be impossible to prove she had done so unless they found the actual purses - which they never, ever did.
It was how she kept out of smashing goblins and fighting hobgoblins, and orcs, and the like.
Not that she couldn't do those things. But, they would make her notable.
Well, more notable than the flute, anyway.
This seemed safe enough, and meant she could keep traveling in not only a foreign land, but upon a foreign planet. Plus, it seemed like most people who wandered as musicians or magicians or whatever, it seemed to her as though they were somehow allowed to steal certain amounts and get away with it, which suited Mioshi just fine. Polite as she was, it paid her room and board, whatever else it did.
The clanking of plates and ring of polished chainmail caught her feline ears. Putting the coins away, things apparently pressed en-masse from what she could tell, Mioshi found her gaze settling on a single soldier rushing over to her, shield, armor and all. It was the young man following the Centurion from before, and seeing that she saw him, he waved at her. So, with no chance to blend in to the crowd, she stopped and lifted a hand in response, wondering just why. Marching along the stone paved streets, the hobnails of his caligae almost seemed to trumpet his arrival as he came up to her side. Though he panted, just a bit, he never stooped over to catch his breath.
"Ave! My apologies for such abruptness," the young man began. "I am Legionnaire Titus Canius. You're most unfamiliar with our fair city, and such is our appreciation for you music, we thought that it was only proper that you were given a guide," he explained.
"Wow," Mioshi exclaimed at him, the very picture of politeness. She might not really have wanted an escort, but an escort having been provided, it wasn't as though she would complain. "Really? That would be very kind. I do not want to be too much of a burden to you. I can usually get by on my own very well. Do you mind if I ask questions? May I?"
"Oh, I'd be utterly glad to!" Titus exclaimed, adjusting his helmet. "Would you like to get a drink of posca or something to eat while we do so? I'm sure you're famished from your long journey," he added. Seeing the hustle and bustle of the city around her, it was clear that whatever offerings it had would not disappoint. At least, not in comparison to the other human towns she had visited so far.
So the answer was obviously, "Where would be the best place for that?"
She held her staff close and looked up at him through her long, near-white bangs, and smiled. "I have not ate for a while. Also they may allow me to play my music so, you would be doing me a favor. If it is an inn or some place that also rents space that is even better." With how closely she seemed to look at him, the youth couldn't help but blush, just a little. The fact the helmet wasn't fully enclosed did not help him to hide this too much either.
"Oh, the tabernae of course," he suggested, the word sounding all too familiar as to just what it was. Of course it had to be a tavern. It seemed that it 'twas the staple where ever she went.
"Would you mind?" she asked, knowing this sort of person within her heart of hearts by all the tales and songs and writing that had been put up about him. The young guard, or soldier, frequenting the watering hole, and looking for true love, or whatever else people tended to believe in. "It's okay, if you drink a little too, isn't it?" He immediately stiffened at that.
"Regulations forbid drinking while on duty my lady," he coughed. "Plus, I do not think I would be of any service to you inebriated," the young man added a little sheepishly. As a response, she flattened her platinum-furred ears and curled her tail up, though not severely.
"I'm just Mioshi. I am sure it would be fine if you had just one or two, anyway. They did loan you to me, didn't they, Titus?" The young Legionnaire blustered for a moment, at a loss for words, but finally managed to reply, conceding, just a bit.
"Well, it'll only be punished if I were to cause a disturbance I suppose." He wasn't comfortable with the idea, but, who could disagree with Mioshi? Especially when her tail was moving just so? Leading the way, they soon found just what he was talking about. A 'Tabernae' - in truth, it really was a tavern. Just one that was much nicer than the ones she had visited before. With large open windows and a wide entrance, it maintained the cozy atmosphere while letting in plenty of sun and staying well ventilated. "I can't imagine what such places are outside of our city, not built to code," the Legionnaire shook his head.
Finding a seat, he took off his helmet and ran a hand through his short brown hair and called a maid over to order. Not surprisingly, it was another human being, her brown hair set in a long braid. Interestingly enough, Mioshi had yet to see a single elf, despite having been told that this was a city of them.
"Can I have two drinks?" she asked the young woman, perfectly content to take this a step at a time. She noticed several things about the girl; her age, her height, her relative economic status. This was someone who worked for a living, but might have worked since she was much younger, if the ease with which she sashayed about were any indication.
Mioshi also noticed the way the two looked at each other. Not friends, not lovers, but certainly familiar. People who knew each other. And that got filed away in the back of her mind. She decided to test it a bit to see how far it ran.
"Whatever the special is? My friend Titus is lent to me for a moment, so I would like to pay for him also." This got the young Legionnaire with her to suddenly start.
"Nonsense! As a man and a citizen, I can't let you do that!" he exclaimed, though not loud enough to turn heads. He may have been young, but he most certainly had his pride. Letting her pay would have hurt it. Looking back at the maid, Titus handed her the coin for their meal in advance, and with a polite nod, went to get them their food and drink. "The outside world may be harsh and unfair, but I assure you that it is different here," he explained to her.
Mioshi smoothed her long, straight bangs back out of her face and then settled her hands in her lap, sitting upright on the bar stool, staff leaning against the bar. She reflected on that statement for a moment, weighing it down in a dozen ways and lifting it up in a few more. In the end, she simply flicked an ear and looked over at him and smiled.
She had been right, naturally.
"I have only been in the outside world, so...?" He shook his head at the idea.
"And I have only been here," Titus quickly replied. "However, I already know for certain that the lands beyond this Elvish Bastion are far from right and proper." He leaned in, his voice quieting just a little. "This may be one of the last remaining vestiges of the Elven Empire, but we will remain proud, civilized folk to the end." He told her a lot more than he ever knew - what was perhaps common knowledge here was a hint of gold for her.
In her mellow, mild way, she nodded to him, apparently giving his opinion the meek acceptance that any subservient, wandering musician should.
"I like their music," she decided to say, taking a different tack. "They do not pay very well but, I played for the as they worked in the fields, and they made me feel welcome. They seem very lively, but they are poor and seem troubled by something." Mioshi already knew the answer - goblins. Monsters. What she didn't know, was how much the Capital knew about it. The people who served, on this planet, as the leaders and those responsible. The people who knew about 'magic'.
"There is always trouble from without," Titus began, the food and wine arriving. Sitting before Mioshi was a traditional food of the city, a flatbread topped with a pesto-like sauce and goat cheese, accompanied by wine. Watered down wine. Looking around at the patrons however, this seemed to be the norm at every table. But why? That thought aside, she went to roll it as though it were one of the farmer's rolls, filled with bits of whatever it was they happened to have on hand and seasoned, but to her slight embarrassment found that it didn't roll. Instead, she floundered for a moment, delving into the depths of her experience and knowledge of history.
She found approximately jack and shit, and for once ended up looking embarrassed. The 'nekomata' pushed her hair back again, to keep it out of her face--always a concern, with the way she wore her hair--and blushed at Titus.
"Sorry, I've never seen food like this. How is it eaten, please?" the Neko asked. Looking up at her as he poured out some olive oil onto a small plate, Titus honestly seemed surprised. After all, how could someone not know how to eat this? She could see as understanding soon came to him however, a hint of amusement showing as he blushed in turn, just a bit.
"Like this. You have to break bread at meals after all," he demonstrated, tearing his soft, warm, tender flatbread into more manageable pieces. The moment he did so, he dipped it into the shallow plate of olive oil and took a small bite, enjoying his food before washing it down with a sip of his wine. "Go ahead, try it," he encouraged her.
She mimicked him, a little thrilled and more than a little curious. She tore, dipped carefully, and then took a bite. It crunched a bit, and that surprised her, but she ended up nearly eating the thing whole. She certainly could have. In the end she suckled a finger or two, having delved too deep into the flavorful, almost tart and pungent oil, but it was good anyway.
"I like it," she said, meaning it, as she went to carefully tear off another piece, fascinated. She had analyzed it. It was just dough, fried, and some sort of base vegetable-herb sauce, and certain spices, and the cheese of some animal, but really the presentation defied scientific understanding. She stopped trying to understand on that level for the moment and just decided to enjoy it and get on with her actual job.
"I've really never had anything like it. Is it something just made here? You said, there was always trouble in the outside world?" He smiled, glad that she liked it.
"Well, it apparently is only found here if you've never had it. It's common fare." He sighed. "With the fall of The Empire, a great many things were lost. I never thought it would go so far as the food as well," Titus admitted. When the Nekovalkyrja asked about the outside trouble however, he perked up. Other than a woman, nothing got a man hot under the collar like a fight would. "Yes. The outside world is always constantly ravaged with monsters. Goblins for an example, are everywhere, but nobody takes them seriously like The Empire did," he explained. "With how often they harass and attack, a civilization is never secure and will never advance unless they are kept in check by Legions dedicated to the defense of the people," the young man proudly proclaimed.
He blushed the moment he realized he had gotten a little too patriotic and awkwardly coughed.
"Is it true? That, and forgive me, the Barbarian Kingdoms hire adventurers to slay marauding monsters?" Mioshi took that in at face value, almost; internally she measured it against what she knew of her own Empire's history, and found it more or less sound. However, at the same time, here in this context she found that strangely, she identified more with the poor who had taken her in and given her most of what they had, in exchange for only a little labor and the music of her flute. This town, by contrast...
"With how active even the Hobgoblins have been in particular as of late, there's no way they'd stem the tide, and those are only active if they sense weakness, or gold is to be paid for their services." He shook his head. "A bad omen. One bad enough that rumors are starting to float about. Baseless rumors of course, I assure you."
"I haven't heard many of them," she said. She took another bite of the food, thinking to herself that it was delicious and unique. "There are not many Tabernae" she continued afterwards, mimicking his accent quite well, "where I have been traveling. Is it so bad? I had heard a whisper of some artifact of doom and, I thought, other bad omens, but what have you heard? Perhaps we can trade stories." He thought over it for a moment before taking a sip of his watered wine.
"The Graceful Ones keep their long ears to the ground, not us. They lead, and we follow. It has always been that way, so I hear very little," the young man admitted, the words surprisingly modest despite his arrogant pride in his city-state. "I've heard not of an artificer's doom device, but, the omens hint towards the rise of a new Evil coming. Whether it be a Lich King, Demonic Incursion or a new Dark Lord, I know not." Scratching his chin in thought though, his face lit up as something popped into his mind. "Slave uprisings are solely the omen of a Dark Lord though, and the Barbarous Kingdoms have been having many more of those lately."
Stretching out, he soon rose from his chair.
"But enough of that. Is there anywhere else you'd be curious about? The bath houses are absolutely wondrous," he proudly proclaimed, only to awkwardly blush a moment later. Titus however, was smart enough to shut up at that point, and not start babbling embarrassed nonsense.
It wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the last time Mioshi had been oggled. She suspected that she hadn't been well received just for her flutistry, though the young Nekovalkyrja certainly prided herself upon it. She still tried to keep herself clean, enough to flatter, and though she wore a traveler's garb, she had taken pains that it didn't become too soiled. And she tried to be flattered that, apparently, this young man thought she wasn't ugly, despite that.
"I wouldn't mind," Mioshi stated, surprising herself by how much she actually meant that; when was the last time she had actually had a decent bath? "I haven't had a chance for warm water in what feels like years."
But she hadn't touched her wine, so she did, taking gulps of the watered down stuff - just like, she thought, a peasant might. That was her rear-brain though; most of her just wanted to down the drink, hydrate herself as much as she could, and then maybe finish off the flatbread.
She didn't need to eat half as much as she wanted to. But the farmers and most of the people she had been living off of recently had been poor fare, and it made even this sort of rarity seem like it. When she had been studying ancient histories in Vicky's vast collection of knowledge about everything, she hadn't really counted on people being half so poor or so miserable as she found them. Magical world, indeed.
"Was that what they were talking about on the wall?" she asked, innocently, reaching for another bite of the seasoned bread and giving him a plaintive look. Whether she was fooling him, or herself, by keeping him talking, anyone's guess at this point. Either way she knew quite well that this bread wasn't going to eat itself and that it was going to reside the night in her stomach no matter how full she stuffed it.
So that's what she did. She waited, of course, bite to bite, a significant amount of time. Decorum. Politeness. She could of course just shove the whole thing in her mouth, but that wouldn't befit the person whom she was playing, nor the part. Instead, just another piece of it. Another dip in the oil. Munch.
Legionnaire or not, Titus' cheeks only grew more red.
"By The Nine, no!" he exclaimed. "Or, yes? Maybe?" the young man grew more flustered. Scratching his head for a bit, he soon donned his helmet again as he thought it over. "They were thinking that the Consul of the city would enjoy your music. And company," Titus explained, looking away from Mioshi. "So, I drew the short straw, and they wanted me to show you our fair city - it's a high honor, really!" Biting his knuckle, he explained a little more, "You'll be granted access to the inner city, whenever you're ready. Things are even nicer there, and if you do wish to bathe, I suggest there instead, as the baths for a guest of the Consul would be private."
Setting the goblet down, Mioshi processed that, thinking for a moment that she might have mistranslated it. But, she hadn't.
On the one hand, a bath. Food. An obviously nubile and horribly embarrassed young soldier. On the other hand, she could simply walk into the inner sanctuary of the elves, the place they kept apart from literally every other race existent on this planet, just like that. She searched his face and measured his expression against most of those she knew by heart; here was someone, embarrassed. Maybe he had drawn the short stick. Maybe they had forced him into this?
"I don't really have a choice, then?" she asked, feigning perplexion, and half-wondering how far she could push this person. He shifted nervously in his lorica, the plates and maile clinking together before he finally answered.
"The Consul may not know of you yet," he carefully began to explain, "But, it is not uncommon for them to know, and keep silent until fates are sealed." The words he chose had a certain finality to them, but he was quick to point out the upsides again. "Even if that were the case however, they are magnanimous; you will be well compensated for whatever services you provide, as befitting our civil city." Letting a moment pass, he also admitted something else. "Your music is quite nice, so. I do not believe it to be likely that your art will displease him. The opposite in fact."
Her tail swayed idly as she considered, quite seriously. In the back of her mind were her Directives. Had she been found out? Would she, could she flee now? No. It couldn't be yjsy. Who would have told on her? What would have hinted? Even if they had outed her as a false foreigner, they would have had to send word back too far east to conscience it.
Coincidence. It was coincidence. Or her music, as he claimed.
She tore off another bit of the flatbread, dipping it, eating it. Was her time here limited? Did she have to go, just now? Well, he had stood up, hadn't he, and here she was stuffing her face in the middle of a local dive, looking awkward. And probably more than a little bit pathetic, truth be told. Mioshi said softly,
"Ah, so. You really haven't eaten much, and... I feel a little bad. Are you sure? Do you not want paid, or would you like to come with me, or...?" Hearing her say this, Titus finally bowed his head to her.
"Wherever the wind blows, I shall follow," the soldier solemnly replied. She hooked her tail around her walking staff, reached across the table, and slid his near-unstained plate over towards him a little bit.
"Right now I just want to eat and drink a little, and then we can go." Blinking once, then twice in surprise, the Legionnaire realized he was standing and sat down with due haste.
"My apologies, we are...not in a hurry. Technically." He might have been a young man, but he wasn't a fool it seemed. "It's uncommon one such as yourself appears, so, there are no expectations as to how this will turn out," Titus explained. Looking at how she ate, he wondered, "Would you perhaps want more?" The Neko wasn't eating ravenously, but, she was eating with religious devotion to the task.
Mioshi looked up from where she was, naturally, dipping another one of the bits into the oil. She had, by herself, now devoured about half of the fare, considerately leaving him the other - what he had seemed to have chosen, with his fingers and by simple polite decorum. Though it might have looked as though she were starving, it was the flavor that interested her; she had never tasted this sort of fare before, and was squirreling it away jealously in the back of her mind with a will to recreate and catalogue.
"What else is there to eat here? There must be a few other things, maybe? It is alright, like I said. You really do not have to pay for it so, just tell me about this place for a little while and please relax. I notice, there are not many of my kind here, so I do not get to talk very often like this."
A complete barefaced lie, but one she told with easy humility, and wilting ears. Just who could resist someone like her?
"Beaver tail," he said with strong conviction. It seemed so certain, it was almost manly with it. "A local delicacy which I think you'll like." Once he ordered it up though, Titus thought over the last that she said, and what the older Legionaries were muttering amongst themselves. "It wasn't my watch, but, the others did mention seeing someone with feline ears and practically Elvish beauty." The moment he said that, how Mioshi looked started to stand out all the more. Everyone around her had some sort of flaws, even if they were small and minor. But her?
"She was a woman with orange hair streaked with black, and hinted with snowy white. Perhaps she may have been allowed passage into the Inner City as well," he offered, hoping to be helpful.
Mioshi held her hair back, blowing gently on the piping hot food that had been delivered a few moments before by the pretty young waitress. Though Mioshi noticed his eyes didn't stray, and wondered at it, she dismissed that off handedly. After all, she had been seeking the man's attention since the moment she had realized he could help her, so it made a certain amount of calculated sense.
"She must have been really special," the Snowy Nekovalkyrja said, "It sounds like she was really very unique. I wonder how she gets her hair that way? I can't even dye mine." He simply shook his head.
"Sadly, it seemed the guards were so struck, they simply let her in only after minor questioning." Thinking over it a bit, Titus added, "I suppose with your arrival, the Centurion does not wish to miss an opportunity to be rewarded, though, feels guilty enough about this that he'd have another do the coercion." It was an odd sentiment, but, thinking back to how he acted, what he said, honor seemed to play a key role in their society.
Mioshi took a bite of the beaver tail and found it to be an utter shock. It smelled like crispy pork, but was soft like a white meat. The beaver tail was tender and rich with fatty flavor. One that practically melted in her mouth like some of the finest of fine wagyu. She savored it, liking it, and wondering if there were any pepper. Well, if even a shadow of that passed along her expression, she didn't show it; nor did she show that she wished for hashi and dipping sauce, so that she wouldn't have to use her fingers. But this culture didn't seem to consider it odd at all, to just use your nails or your fingers or even the knife from your belt, so neither did she. She ate, tail weaving happily beneath her linen skirt.
Mioshi briefly considered dipping some of the stuff in oil, but thought better of it. That seemed to be just for the slightly spicier flatbread.
"If you don't want to, you don't have to come with me," she told him, looking across the table. "Is the Consul that frightening?" The young man immediately straightened when she said this.
"It is not the Consul I fear, but the dishonor of having been tasked of-of herding you about like a prize lamb! It shames me," Titus explained, his voice rising with just a bit of fire. It seemed that honor was a big part of their society with the ways it had been brought up so far. "In the end though, your path is your own - I beseech thee not to be intimidated by my superior's wants of salary," the Legionnaire added.
Immediately, Mioshi set about thinking of ways to alleviate this, or fence it off, suddenly feeling bad for the man. She gave him an almost plaintive look, watching him with concern. It couldn't hurt to have a friend who was a guard, she was thinking, but on the surface she did her best to seem just as intimidated as he thought she should be, tilting her ears back.
"Well," she asked at length, "What do you want? What should I do?" Sighing, Titus scratched his chin in thought, his finger reaching in between its plates to do so.
"In truth, The Graceful Ones are always patrons of the arts - should you present yourself to the Consul, he will pay you well for a sampling of your muse." Again, he glanced at her with less than honorable eyes, and looked away with guilt. "You should still be wary as a woman however. They are capricious, and though you are not Elven, I suspect you are somehow fey. If not he, than possibly others may take interest. Well paid interest of course." Cracking his back to try and get some of the stress out, he grumbled, "At least the gossip would be worthwhile."
"Gossip?" she asked, curling her tail around her staff and pulling it to her hand; she then leaned it against her shoulder from beneath the table, and looped her arm over it. It was meant to look a little protective, and in addition to that, she also liked it being close. After all, this was her primary defense, in this world. She fixed her light gray-blue eyes on him, and though she only smiled at him a little bit, she was certainly curious. Not only at the prospect of being caught up in some marvelous little romantic intrigue with creatures she had only read vague stories about, but also, she did have her job to do. "Do you mean, they would want to hear of the outside world?"
"Quite possibly, however, they keep an ear to the ground. Or at least have someone do it for them," Titus admitted. "Personally, I'd be glad to hear whatever I can from their table. They usually keep it to themselves, but seem to allow esteemed guests to overhear their talk. Perhaps as an acknowledgement of respect." The young man shrugged. "They are always difficult to fully comprehend." It was clear that even this common soldier was far better educated than those Mioshi had seen outside, yet, still had a subservient role. What he said was perhaps the biggest clue of them all.
The elves spread truth and rumors through their servants.
Mioshi swiveled her ears for a moment without looking around; no conversation, no movement, for several meters around them. They were close enough, not to be overheard by the curious or the nosy. So she decided, and said,
"Let's meet again after you're off of work. I'll sneak out from the inner city. I'm sure I'll hear something fun by then." His eyebrows rose with surprise as quickly as they fell with concern.
"Are you certain? Though our fair city is most orderly, you've yet to find your way around as a newcomer. I could show you the way if you're not one to find your own for fancy," Titus offered.Mioshi tapped her nose, saying,
"I am good at finding my way. But, I wouldn't mind if you took me there. I will remember the path we take. Afterwards, should we meet here, again?" He firmly nodded.
"My family runs this place, so it is no hassle at all," Titus pointed this out to her. Suddenly, something else made sense.
"So, that is your sister?" she asked, looking over to where the waitress was moving about, waiting tables.
"Um, why yes," Titus replied, a little surprised. "Why do you ask?"
"I can see the resemblance. I was wondering." Mioshi filed her appearance away in the back of her mind, then looked back at him and shrugged, helpless. A little at a loss, he nodded, shrugging. For him, this was perhaps business it seemed, nevermind that it was business with someone that was drop dead gorgeous despite the humble clothing and unassuming demeanor. That, or he was simply a bit dense due to inexperience. Looking up at him through her pale, flaxen bangs, she meekly offered,
"Ah, sorry. Anyway, I am finished, so we can go now." Hearing her, the soldier rose once again, adjusting his armor as he did so.
"Then to the inner city?" he offered again.
She, too, rose, taking her staff to hand and straightening her belted blouse skirt over her slender traveling slacks. "Yes. Please."
Mioshi would just have to see what they had in store for her. Then, afterwards, she would see what else she could worm out of this young guard.
For better or worse, her adventure was just beginning.
