Tides 1408/3820 words
(Takes place before Birth of Hospitium)
After his narrow escape from custody thanks to Sarkis, Harper realized he had nothing to come back to at the pub. Igne Ebrius just wasn’t the same without Ignis sitting at one of the tables along the wall sketching out blueprints for her latest ideas. Harper even missed her constant chatter whenever they were in the small room they shared. It was even hard to sleep alone after growing used to the sounds of another breathing and the heat of another person’s back pressed against his.
Dragging the rag over the counter at the bar for what felt like the thousandth time, the spurii almost didn’t hear Parker talking to him.
“Harper, are you sure you are alright?”
The sometimes bartender shrugged. “I should be. I did what that strange man said.”
“Strange man?” Interest was audible in the demvir’s tone.
“There was a strange man here a couple months back. A nosy git, he was. But he said it’d be worth my time to answer his questions so I did.” The spurii snorted.
“I see… what did you learn from this strange man?”
“He said if we took the first opportunity our benefactor gave us, it would lead us somewhere unexpected. Into the shadows and across oceans and lands, or something like that.” Harper shook his head. “Cryptic bastard.”
“What did you ask him?” Parker wanted to know.
“What do you think?” Harper countered, shooting the demvir a reproachful look.
“I see. I suppose we should not expect you to remain in our employ much longer, then,” the mechanical man said, sounding a little disappointed.
“Now that you mention it, I guess not.”
“A shot of ghost fruit, please.”
Harper prepared the shot with practiced ease and set the small glass in front of Parker and returned to cleaning the counter. He ignored the man across from him except to pocket a pair of x shaped coins the demvir slid across the subtly shining wood.
After his shift, Harper returned to the small house a couple kilometers away where Igne Ebrius employees had the option of boarding one last time. Not bothering to sleep, he sat on the chest Ignis had pushed up to the window and waited. No sign of his bird brained friend.
“Guess bird brain’s in hiding somewhere,” he told himself. It had been the talk of customers for the last two weeks. A group of seven individuals had broken into the Arx and escaped with two prisoners via airship. Bounties were placed on the individuals involved and Ignis’ personal bounty had increased. He wasn’t surprised she hadn’t come back here; even that feather brained idiot had to know Eden would turn her in for the exa in a heartbeat. That or she had gotten distracted by some new adventure and forgotten all about Harper --Ignis was easily distracted like that.
By dawn, Harper had decided he was done with his stint as a bartender at Igne Ebrius and taken to the streets on one of the basilisks Eden kept for the arena. He was pretty sure the pureblood hating woman wouldn’t pursue him. The spurii left a note for Janus on where to find the missing beast.
Hood pulled up and head down, Harper urged his reptilian steed forward. Over lands and seas indeed, he thought to himself.
At the end of the day, the spurii abandoned the basilisk and set out on foot. Thighs sore, he quickly sought out a place to spend the night. A pub, reminiscent of his former place of work, had a couple rooms available in the garrison.
The pub’s proprietor, as it turns out, had only made such a generous offer in order to get Harper to stay long enough for the Conexus guards from a station half a day’s travel away to come and get him. Unfortunately for the greedy man, Harper was gone by the time guards arrived; he’d only slept a few hours and escaped through the window of his rented room.
“Sir, are you sure a man known as Harper was here?” a guard asked the short, balding laicar.
Wringing his hands, the man replied indignantly, “He should still be here! The ale I gave him was meant to make him sleep longer than usual.”
The guard sighed, clearly annoyed. “Criminal or not, you do know that is against the law around here, right?”
Meanwhile, Harper was several kilometers away and very thirsty. He had forgone the ale in order to keep his senses sharp. Flyers in hand, the spurii decided to check out a few options for work. He decided on investigating the help wanted ad for a waiter in a local restaurant that sold dishes made with fresh ingredients from nearby farms including Flemmingshire Farm.
“You’re that man from the papers!” A waiter shouted, over excited not five minutes after Harper had walked in the door.
In response, Harper spat out a cloud of mist and ran before anyone could grab him.
Deciding to err on the side of caution, he went closer to the city’s wall before daring to show his face anywhere. He stopped at another address listed on a flyer, this time answering a request for a repair man. While the older velen gentleman had invited him in and even offered a glass of water, something seemed off. The velen, Rubeus, had disappeared somewhere in the house to find his glasses; the wait made Harper anxious. Rather than risk this being another trap, the spurii decided to cut his loses and leave while he was still ahead.
When Rubeus returned, glasses firmly settled on the bridge of his nose, he frowned. “Now where did that nice young man get off to?”
The next three attempts ended with a door slammed in Harper’s face. They wanted nothing to do with a troublemaker known for the theft of a treaty.
Frustrated and a little afraid the authorities would locate him after so many sightings, Harper kept going. By the time he reached the outer wall, it was night again. He used another cloud of mist and a few well timed applications of Atlas to cover his escape. If there had been more than a couple guards standing watch, Harper wouldn’t have made it. As it was, he could hear shouts of alarm as the Conexus guards at the gate organized to chase him.
Heart pounding, Harper used the last of his energy to run until he reached water. Without a second thought, he dove into the Sea of Occidens.
The salty water was dark and cool. It plastered his feathers over his gills, making it difficult to breath and stung his eyes. The spurii reflexively shut his eyes and gasped, clawing at the feathers covering his gills. Panic filled Harper almost as quickly as the water filling his lungs. He writhed and tried to force water over his gills and tore away at the feathers restricting his respiration.
Pressure began to build in his head and the spurii desperately tried to use his inconveniently placed gills. Despite his best efforts, the oxygen deprivation and hyperventilation quickly lead to a loss of consciousness. Harper succumbed to exhaustion and a lack of air, going limp.
To the laicar guards peering into the waters with the aid of lanterns, to them it appeared that Harper was a lost cause.
“Damn, the poor bastard drowned. I thought a half-breed with blood from a sea drinker would fare better,” the first guard remarked.
“I wonder what spooked him so bad to make a big show out of leaving the city like that,” murmured another.
“I think he was one of those idiots who broke into the Archivo.”
“Guess he’d rather die than face the consequences of his crimes. Would explain his desperation.”
“You reckon we can collect a bounty for his corpse?”
“Probably,” the leader of their squad said, as he watched the dark form of the wanted man grow smaller. “Someone send for a team of velen!” He barked. “I want that body before something decides to eat him.”
“Yes sir!” Three of the guards shouted before running back toward Terminus proper. Gate duty had proven to be far more exciting than any of them had expected.
The tides were in Harper's favor for once. They carried him into the depths of the sea and away from his would be captors. The salt sterilized the cuts scratches the spurii had given himself in his distress and the water eased through his gills, giving just enough oxygen to keep the man alive. Though he wasn't pure velen, he was still a child of the sea and the waters seemed to care for him.
Over lands and seas, Harper thought as the currents moved him. He drifted in and out of consciousness the way his body floated like a piece of driftwood in the sea.
Sometimes it was light, other times it was dark.
Occasionally Harper would try and get his bearings, but the effort wore him out and he would be left weakened. So he watched the waters grow lighter and darker as he moved with no direction.
It was fitting that he be swallowed up by the Occidens and pushed to and fro. The sea consumed him, his crimes, his mistakes, and any good deed in between. It baptized him over and over again, dragging him under and away from the sun as if it sought to scrub him clean until he was fit for light.
Over lands and seas....
Harper let the waves carry him the way his father had when he was a young boy. He imagined Augustino's warm smile. If no one else would, his father would forgive him for what he'd become. Things had gotten so out of hand.
My boy, I'm just glad you've come back to me.
Harper's head snapped in the direction of a voice he hadn't heard in so long.
“Father!” He cried in a tongue he hadn't really used in years. “Father!”
My son. Augustino smiled, but the expression was touched by sadness.
Harper reached toward his father, grinning and crying at the same time (the sea took his tears, too).
I had really hoped you wouldn't need me again.
Harper recoiled. “I thought you were happy to see me,” he mumbled, bubbles slipping past his lips.
You are lost.
“But I found you again,” Harper protested clumsily, struggling to make the clicks and whistles of his father's native enlil language underwater.
But it isn't quite time for you to join me, son.
“But father, I am tired. I made so many mistakes.”
As did I son, as did I.
Harper reached for his father, but his hand passed through the other man. The darkness claimed him again.
The next time he opened his eyes, Augustino was still there. However, the spurii didn't reach for him.
You need to eat.
Harper chuckled. “Yeah, you don't suppose Jacinth will find me and take me in again, do you? She made the best hot chocolate and stews.”
You really should have stayed with her, Augustino chided his son.
The spurii shook his head. “The people in that town really didn't like that she took me in. I only would've been trouble.”
More trouble than a broken heart?
“I couldn't do that to her.”
And that other woman? The one you lied to and gave up on?
“Birdbrain wasn't coming back.”
You'd better hope not. Abandoning women who are kind to you isn't a good habit to get into.
“Guess it isn't.”
They were quiet for some time after that. Harper closed his eyes.
They snapped open when he felt scales brushing against him. A school of fish was making its way around him.
Harper had never been one to tell one fish from another, but he was pretty sure they were edible.
They look like salmon, Augustino suggested.
“They look like food to me,” the spurii quipped.
Just grab one.
Harper made a few clumsy grabs, scattering the school of fish. Fortunately for him, one swam past his face, or would have if Harper hadn't bitten into it. He grabbed onto the fish, using his claws to keep it from squirming away, and proceeded to crush and shred the poor beast as he shoved it into his mouth. Rows of sharp teeth aided his effort and the fish’s struggles grew weaker. Slick scales tore around meaty flesh and small bones were crushed together. The mass slid over his tongue and down his throat. It was a miracle he didn't choke on a fish bone. Harper kept biting chunks out of the fish until there wasn't much left of it except for blood in the water and a broken skeleton in his hands.
Feeling calmer, the spurii picked bits of meat out from the remaining bones and sucked them from between his fingers. The scene was visceral, salty, and nothing short of disgusting --not that Harper cared. The dizziness was finally starting to let up and for the first time his aimless drift didn't feel like he was spinning through nothingness. He licked his lips and began to eat some of the larger bones, chewing carefully this time so bone shards wouldn't stick in his throat.
If you stay here much longer, sharks will arrive, Augustino reminded him.
Harper grunted and released the remains of his meal. Flexing his muscles, he began to swim. The repetitive motion of swimming and forcing water through his sore gills felt meditative to the spurii. Though he had not had many opportunities to swim as a child, he was in relatively good shape. The direction didn't matter, nor did the fading light in the blue depths. Harper wouldn't have known where he was going anyway. He made a mental note to learn about nautical navigation when he got the chance.
When he tired, Harper relaxed and let the tides take him where they pleased. Content to be lost in the endless depths of the sea, he closed his eyes and let his body move freely. Soon after, darkness claimed him again.
The next time he awoke, his father was gone. It was a little disappointing the illusion hadn't lasted longer, but Harper and his father had run out of things to say to each other. The former con man waited patiently for another school of fish to approach. These were smaller than the last and more colorful. Harper Careful to be still, he let the fish pass him without event until a few swam too close to his hands.
They tasted a bit different from the fish he had caught the time before, but the two fish he had managed to hold onto were just as filling as the one big fish from before. The slippery feeling of scales sliding across his tongue nearly made him gag, though. Last time, he'd been too desperate and hungry to care.
Then, he swam and swam until he could swim no more. Harper slept after that. He probably spent most of his time asleep.
About sixty five or seventy hours after disappearing from Hiemis, Harper washed up on the shores of Aridus. He first noticed the change when air hit his skin for the first time in three days. It was a strange, dry feeling. The tides lapped at him, but did not pull him back into the sea. The man awoke in the wet sand and sat up immediately. His head spun and his chest felt strangely tight. Harper hunched over, coughing and heaving violently. Water, saliva, and acid-coated chunks of fish alike passed his lips and splattered against the sand.
A burning gasp filled his lungs with much needed air and Harper felt relief. It was short lived, for the half velen continued to heave and empty his lungs and stomach.
When he finally finished he flopped onto the sand next to the mess and lay panting. Disgusted, he wrinkled his nose as the waves erased the rank smelling puddle.
Harper did not like being on land very much after his stint in the ocean. The sun was too bright and the hot air dried his throat and nose. He felt strangely lost without the tides guiding his body. Everything was blurry. Harper had to blink a few times before remembering how to open his primary and secondary eyelids. Hissing, he shut his eyes. It was too bright and clear on land.
After adjusting to this new development, Harper pushed himself to his feet. His arms and legs felt like jelly. He coughed again and shook the water from his feathers as best he could after peeling off his tunic and jacket.
The spurii wandered further inland and stripped his clothes off and wrung them out so they could dry on the sand. Fortunate placement of keratin feathers below the waist spared him any embarrassment at being nude. Seeing his downy feathers matted against his skin and scales made the half avian cringe. Harper spent the next hour and a half preening and fluffing his feathers.
“That's better,” he mumbled to himself, pleased that his feathers were mostly dry and neat.
Then he set about stretching his sore muscles before napping. When he next regained consciousness, Harper felt a little stiff and there was sand stuck to him. With a groan he set about preening again. By the time he finished, the oppressive heat had begun to die down and the sun was before to sink in the sky. His clothes were a bit damp and sandy, but the spurii shook them out and pulled them back on anyway. It was time to set out.
The man was scruffy, but mostly clean and smelled strongly of the sea. Two unmemorable days of ambling north later, he'd aired out enough that he didn't stink too strongly of fish. He strolled into a town, a port city by the looks of it, with windblown feathers and sand stuck to his clothes. He smelled of saltwater, sand, and an undertone of sweat, fish, and blood. The combination of scents would have made a fine musk if someone could've bottled it; while not the most pleasing of smells, it gave the impression of being wild and untameable. The odor was that of a man who had braved the oceans and lived by the power of his own two hands. It probably would've been a bit more alluring with a hint of sandalwood.
Grey-violet eyes took in the familiar sights of buildings and people. It felt like he hadn't laid eyes on such things in years. He stepped into the crowd and followed the bustle of people through the streets, trying to familiarize himself with everything. The different architecture, clothes, accents, and street names were too numerous to commit to memory at first. Buildings were more sprawling than tall and more rounded than what he was used to seeing. The packed sand that made up the streets kicked up more dust, and compared to the loose, lighter colored clothes garbing others his clothing looked strange.
He wandered into a bar. The sandalwood floors and light colored walls made for a venue much brighter than he would've expected. The soft light from lanterns fixed on the walls and firelight from fire pits placed on either side of the room cast a warm light over the place. The smell of smoke and fish cooking made Harper's mouth water. He wasn't here for the food, though he did find a spot near one of the fire pits and order some skewered squid to be polite.
While his meal cooked, Harper looked around for a mission board. He found it on a far wall, several help wanted ads and flyers tacked up for takers. The spurii grabbed a few and returned to his seat. He gave the cook, a red and orange velen man, a couple silver coins in exchange for his skewer and sunk his teeth into his seafood. The skin was crisp while the flesh beneath was a bit rubbery, but it was miles better than raw, uncleaned fish. The spices were savory and it wasn't long until the rather large tentacle was gone. Setting the skewer aside, Harper turned his attention to the flyers he had procured.
“Hmm.” He folded up the papers and left the pub, not bothering to ask about local inns. The former con man wanted to scout out the town for himself. He could probably sleep on a roof without too much trouble. He checked his coin bag. With only a few hundred exa to his name, Harper was by no means well off.
He was down another twenty exa by the time he replaced the soaked gunpowder in his pistol and bought more ammo. Feeling a bit insecure, Harper got a pair of small knives suitable for throwing, rope, and a pair of fingerless gloves. Still unsatisfied, he got a lock pick set, a jar of salve, a glow weed lantern, and a roll of bandages. His pockets felt considerably lighter for all Harper's caution had come with a hefty cost past the twenty he had originally planned to spend.
Most of his wares could safely be stowed in the pockets lining the spurii’s jacket. His next task was to get dinner find a place to rest for the night.
Harper retreated to an alley and ran up the wall of a building and grasped the edge of a roof. He pulled himself up, with no small amount of effort and a lot of help from his boots pressed against the wall to brace his weight. He settled down behind a few rain barrels someone had left out and pulled a small bottle and paper bag out of his jacket.
Harper opened the bag, releasing the savory scent of the crabs inside. They were cheap street food in places near water, much to his contentment. Three crabs and a lot of finger licking later, the spurii readied himself for the unpleasant part of the night. He plucked away the remaining feathers covering his gills and opened the bottle, splashing cheap vodka onto his hand and swiping it across the wounds on his neck from his panic. Though the injuries were starting to heal, the alcohol stung. He smeared salve onto a strip of bandage and wrapped it around his neck. Harper sighed in relief before settling down for a night under the stars.
In the morning, he polished off the remaining crabs before starting his search for work. Hopefully he would be able to earn enough to stay somewhere so he could have a bath. Harper pulled out the flyers he'd picked up and hopped down from the roof.
