Eden

Eden walked alone in the dark, the lamps lit through the city doing little against the fog that seeped into everything. The streets weren’t empty, but weren’t bustling as they were earlier in the day, and seemingly in contrast to that, people didn’t seem to be wearing bright colors anymore. Eden suspected that the people wearing darker clothing were likely ones that didn’t want people to see them, so she kept her head down, ignoring them and hoping that they would ignore her, as well. Every now and then, Eden would look up to squint at signs to see if there were any inns in the area. So far, none. She passed a few produce stalls that were closing up for the evening, so it was likely that she was in the wrong section of town for inns, which honestly didn’t make a lot of sense to her, as this was the port area of the city, and the sailors that come in from the cargo ships likely needed places to stay.

She increased her pace, clinging close to the buildings on the side of the road, passing alleys that all seemed to have eyes that peered out from the darkness at her. She was shocked at what a change the day from the night was in this city. In Almaz, she had felt safe, even after dark. Here, in this town, she got the distinct impression that the night was full of predators.

Up ahead, she saw a shift in the city layout; perhaps a different district that would, hopefully, feel a little safer. She considered something else in the midst of her internal musings, however: she had met a dragon. Whatever nervousness she was feeling right now was muted in comparison to the terror that the dragon caused her. Teeth as long as her forearm would certainly be haunting her nightmares for the foreseeable future. In light of that, was this really so bad? In fact, the more she thought about it, the better she felt: Eden had seen terrors beyond her imagination, her city wiped off of the proverbial (and, soon enough, literal) map, then she came face to face with her second dragon in a short period of time, and now she was in the midst of potentially frightening people. It seemed the danger factor in her life was de-escalating. Suddenly, her situation didn’t seem so bad anymore.

Her thoughts were cut short, however, as he heard some muffled screams from an alleyway she was about to pass, followed by,

“Shut up. You either hand over your coin, or you get a dagger in your gut.” This was a rough city. Eden stopped cold in her tracks. It’s not my city, it’s not my problem, she told herself. It’s not my problem, it’s not my problem, it’s not my problem, she said to herself over and over, but as the threats made their way through the night to her ears, Eden found herself striding down the alley, eyes forward, her skin a burnt orange color with flaring eyes–summer. Someone in a grey hood with a knife had a middle-aged human woman holding a basket of what looked like groceries. The woman promised money and stated she would reach for it to pass to her assailant, but Eden would have none of that. She reached back and pulled her lute from her back to her front, feeling the strap’s friction against her burlap shirt. The hooded assailant noticed Eden approaching and pointed the knife in her direction.

“You turn around and fucking mind your own business, or you’ll get it, too!” he warned. Eden’s fingers picked a few notes on her lute and prepared to pull on her magic, but found that the instrument itself seemed to have its own pull from its own pool of magic. She didn’t even have to concentrate or feel for the effect, the lute knew what she wanted to do and acted accordingly. She had never owned a magic item, but she could definitely see the value in it.

“Little insect peaking from a hood,” she sang, continuing to pick notes from the lute,

“Holding up a woman for her food,” She reached for a small illusion to make her voice echo,

“Don’t you know you need to fly?” The timbre of her voice took a dip,

“If you don’t, then you will die.” A wave of dread spread from the instrument, like an ink drop in a puddle, and the man dropped the knife, his hand shaking, and he stumbled back a couple steps before turning and fleeing as if he really would die if he stopped. The woman, as Eden had intended, was not affected, at all, though the woman’s face was a picturesque portrayal of shock.

Eden had made up the lyrics on the spot, and, in her opinion, they weren’t great, but, perhaps she could increase her repertoire and then wouldn’t have to invent lyrics from nothing. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized just how awful the song was. She would definitely have to stick to established songs.

She heard a scuffing sound from behind her. She turned and saw a human man at the end of the alley, clean-shaven, with brown eyes and close-shaven hair. He wore a cloak that bore a crest that she was unfamiliar with. He seemed frozen in place, and Eden realized that she was still playing the lute, which was strange to her, as one doesn’t just forget they are currently playing an instrument, but she chalked it up to the magic of the lute. The man wasn’t fleeing; Eden suspected that the man was fighting against the magic, somehow, so she continued playing, hoping the music would overwhelm him. The woman behind Eden tapped her on the shoulder and said,

“Excuse me, miss, he’s alright. I know him.” Eden turned with a raised eyebrow to look at the woman, and the woman nodded in assurance. With that, Eden ended the song.

“Were you hurt?” Eden asked the woman while eyeing the young man, who was now walking towards her, with suspicion.

“No, I’m not. Thank you for scaring him away. I’ve never seen anything like that. Are you a bard?”

“A relatively new one, yes.” Eden said. The woman stopped to address the man who was now at Eden’s side.

“Bran, what are you doing here?”

“I had to buy some last-minute…provisions…for tomorrow’s meeting. I saw you get pulled into the alley from down the street, and then this one,” he gestured to Eden, “come in not long behind you. I knew it meant trouble, so I hurried over to help.” He turned to Eden. “I assumed you were a guild member until the other guy ran away.”

Bran, she’s a bard!” the woman put her hand on his shoulder and shook him.

“Yeah, I figured that out when I nearly pissed my pants, back there.”

“But, she could help you with–”

“I don’t think so, Megan. But just so you know I'm not intending to be rude, here.” He turned to Eden. “I’m Bran Leland, of House Leland.” He lifted the front of his cape to reveal a peculiar coat of arms bearing a crossbow and a flask. Eden realized a noble was speaking to her–not a servant of his house, but a member.

“I’m called Eden Springsnow, the vagrant musician.”

Bran smiled with one corner of his mouth. “Thank you for saving the manager of my favorite tavern.”

“Yes, thank you!” Megan chimed in.

“Now that’s out of the way,” Bran said, a bit impatiently, this time, “I need to see Megan safely back to the tavern.” He motioned for Megan to accompany him out of the alley.

“Please come with us!” Megan pleaded with Eden as she started to move towards the alley exit. “I owe you at least a drink. Please?”

Eden hesitated. Did she really need to involve herself in other people's lives? Yeah, she needed to make allies, but Megan seemed... well, friendly. Still, maybe this would just lead to having good contacts instead of friendship. That would be for the best. Having no better ideas, and not wishing to be out in the open if the mugger came back, Eden shrugged her shoulders and said, “Sure.”

***

The three traveled through the city with Bran leading the way, a bit less stressed, Eden felt, now that they were on the main roads, while Megan, now that Eden had gotten a better look at her, had shoulder-length reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes, chatted happily to her. So far, Eden had found out that Megan grew up in a small town to the southwest, a place called Jeriong, but had moved to the big city to start her own business. Megan wasn’t a business owner yet, but she was getting invaluable experience and no small amount of pay managing a business for the owner; it would only be a few years before she could start her own establishment. All in all, it wasn’t the most exciting story that Eden had ever heard, but she was grateful for a friendly face in the strange city.

“Okay, so, I’m thinking something top-shelf. I’ve got some really good bourbon that most people don’t like spending the money on.” Megan continued; she had been going nonstop for twenty minutes.

“Really, that isn’t necessary. What you could do, instead, is just point me to a reasonably-priced inn I could stay at while I’m job-hunting.”

“Are you looking for any music gigs? Or do you have another trade you apply yourself to?” Megan asked earnestly.

“Music gigs, for sure. I need the experience, more than anything, which,” Eden cocked her head to the side as she walked, “sounds strange, I’m sure, but I don’t plan on staying forever and building a life here, so the money I’d actually need is largely for lodging and food.”

Megan grinned ear to ear. “I’ve got something for you, then. I’ve got plenty of people employed for entertainment at my establishment, and they vie for performance slots while the patrons enjoy their drink. You saved me, so it’s nothing for me to ensure you get a slot. You take home whatever tips the patrons leave for you, and our patrons are a fair bunch who appreciate good entertainment. Would that interest you?”

Eden’s heart leapt in her chest. What luck! “Yes, it most assuredly would.”

“Now, I can’t give you the best slots right off the bat, or my employees would riot, but if you do well enough, I’d have reason to reasonably give those to you after a while. No promises, mind you–I’ve only heard you perform the once!”

“Of course!” Eden replied happily. “And the matter of nearby inns?”

Megan tutted unhappily. The tavern I run is a building that used to be a house, but was converted for the purpose of its current business, so there are plenty of rooms, but the owner has given me strict instructions to not use any of the spare rooms we have for housing; otherwise I’d offer you a room.”

“That’s quite alright, but… nearby?”

“Yes, yes, there’s a place just around the corner called ‘The Phat Cat’.”

“The fat cat?”

“Phat as in ‘suave’, ‘desirable in demeanor’, or other such phrases. I think that’s how it was explained to me. Today’s youth comes up with the strangest things to say, I declare.”

“Mmm-hmmmmm.”

“Tot’lin, the innkeeper, is a darling, and I send him business all the time. Just tell him I sent you and he’ll make sure you get squared away.”

“Thanks, Megan. You don’t know how much this helps me out. I planned to spend the day searching for lodging, but I got held up at the docks.”

“Oh, I definitely get that! The port is beautiful at sundown.”

Eden turned to the orange of autumn and brought her lips up to a grimace of a smile. “Yes, beautiful. That’s exactly why I spent my time there. I just couldn’t… tear my eyes away… heh.”

Bran interjected himself into the conversation, “Megan, what were you doing down there, towards the docks?”

Megan hemmed and hawed for a moment and replied, with no small amount of effort, it seemed, “I had to pick up some… special drink for tomorrow evening’s meeting. I can’t just give your guest the regular stuff, especially when she’s coming to my tav–” she cut short when Bran cleared his throat rather pointedly. “Yes, well, you asked.”

“I did. Thank you. I still don’t feel it was worth putting yourself in danger over.” Bran said in a voice that betrayed concern. "Besides, I already picked up something." Eden wasn’t quite sure what to make of him, yet. He was a noble, but he wasn’t accompanied by any bodyguards. Even the least among nobles had at least one escort. Instead, he was looking out for someone who wasn’t of notable breeding. It was… off. Not necessarily bad, but definitely off. Eden thought briefly about bringing up the guest that was mentioned, because she really wanted to know what was going on, but the tone of Bran’s voice indicated to her that he wouldn’t discuss it, even if he was pressed. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, settled into spring, and continued walking and letting Megan take up the lion’s share of the conversation. Maybe Eden was more tired than she realized.

After a while more, they arrived at an exceptionally large, two-story house that had the bottom floor remodeled to be a tavern. A sign was mounted on the front of the tavern, displaying a crystal ball showing a filled pint; the sign read “The Meadium”. Judging by the noise coming from inside, which was a combination of music and avid conversation, this was the place to be.

The three went inside, and Eden beheld a bar on the left side of the tavern with a flight of stairs behind it going up to the second floor and a flight of stairs going down into what Eden assumed was the cellar, on the back wall was a series of doors to assorted restrooms, and on the right wall was a string of booths that ended with a stage set up in the back corner where a human man was playing a piano; in the middle was a mass of tables, and the entire establishment was almost full. There had to have been almost three-hundred people in here, comprised of humans, elves, halflings, dekapri, some anakim, several varieties of beastfolk, a couple centaurs, and some species Eden had never seen before. An armor-clad city guard stood by the door.

Megan saw how large Eden’s eyes had become and tugged on her shirt. “Over here, to the bar. I gotta give you that drink I promised!” She led Eden over to an empty seat as Bran found a table off to the side, she sat her down, and she walked to the inside of the bar, setting her basket underneath the counter. Megan retrieved a stepladder and pulled a glass decanter of pale pink liquid from the top shelf, then picked up a glass from below the counter, set it in front of Eden, and filled it almost to the brim.

“Oh, I forgot one thing!” the middle-aged woman exclaimed. She then procured a teeny-tiny umbrella and dropped it into the drink. Eden was delighted.

“Thank you so much! Really, Megan, you didn’t have to.”

“Pish-posh, of course I did! if you didn't save my life, you definitely saved me a lot of trouble, because the thief was going to take the basket along with my money, and I wasn’t about to let him take the basket. He probably wouldn't have stabbed me in a vital place, but still...”

“I only did what anyone would do.” Eden said, stubbornly.

“Not in this town, you didn’t. People see something like that going down, they pull their cap down and keep moving, thanking their gods it wasn’t them. Now stop talking all humble and enjoy your drink; it looks like my assistant manager has gotten herself into a pickle, and I need to help her out.” she said, eyeing a woman at the other end of the bar with a knife trying, unsuccessfully, to cut into what looked like a gherkin the size of a housecat.

Eden picked up her drink, spun around on her stool, and scanned the crowd, trying to get a better idea of what tavern life was like in this city. She took a sip of her drink and was shocked at how smooth it was. She didn’t know what the drink was, but if she wasn’t careful, it would go down like water.

She people-watched for a while and an elf glided over to take the seat next to her. He introduced himself as "Tel’al" and flirted with Eden, for a few minutes, not that Eden made any attempt to flirt back–recent events set heavy on her heart, and the thought of romance was far from her. Still, though, it was nice having someone to talk to, conversation that was light and easy. In the middle of conversation, though, Eden reached back for her drink and instead hit her hand on the counter.

“Oops.” Eden said before grabbing her drink and bringing it up to her lips. Tel’al frowned, though and narrowed his eyes.

“How much have you had to drink, tonight?”

She lifted her hand as if to assuage his concerns and replied, “Just a couple sips of this one drink. I’m not even sure it’s very strong. We’ll see as the night goes on, I’m sure.” Instead of relaxing, Tel’al’s eyebrows practically knit themselves together.

“You’re in your fifties, aren’t you?” he asked, almost accusingly. Eden brought her drink up to her lips and took a sip. “...Forties?” Another, longer sip. Eden looked away with just her eyes. “Dear gods, you’re in your thirties??”

“Twenties, actually.” she said as casually as she could manage. The he-elf looked positively appalled.

“Where are your parents? Do they know what you’re up to?”

“Relax, grandpa, the city of Almaz considered me an adult, and they were chock full of elavis; I seriously doubt this city’s laws are any different. It’s perfectly fine for me to have my adult drink.” she rolled her eyes as she spoke.

“Adult dr–grandpa?! You know what, it’s not worth it to explain it to you. I hope you get grounded.” And with that, he walked away.

“Yeah, me too.” she mumbled to herself as he departed, turning a light shade of winter.

***

It was an hour before anyone else approached her, and, this time, it was a human in grey robes and a pointed hat. The human sauntered over and made a strange gesture to her and said something she couldn’t quite understand. A shiver went down her spine. She hadn’t quite got done processing that when she realized that she didn’t actually care; this man was her friend. She shifted to spring and gave him a big smile as he sat down. He apologized for not remembering her name–what a gentleman!–and when she told him what she was commonly referred to as, he chuckled as if she had said a particularly endearing joke. She joined him in laughter, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt like something was wrong. She couldn’t quite place it.

“Remind me where you are from, again.” he coaxed.

“Almaz.” she told him. “It’s kind of hard to go back when it’s been destroyed.” The man expressed his sympathy. Such a nice guy!

Something was wrong. What was it?

“Do you have any friends or family in the city?”

“Not a soul in the world.” Huh. That’s funny. Wasn’t Ichabod a friend? He was in the world… Maybe he wasn't a friend... Something was very wrong. When the man asked,

“Can I borrow some money? A mere twenty gold would do. What’s a few gold between friends?” Suddenly, she realized; the enchantment shattered like glass, and the man hadn’t noticed it, yet. Elves were difficult to enchant, and fae much more so. Instead of causing a scene, Eden smiled back at the man and replied,

“Of course, of course! Indeed, what are friends for, except to help each other out?” She slowly reached into pocket where her sack of gold was and listened to the music. This particular song had been playing long enough that she was familiar with the tune, and the chorus had started back up. The spell she was searching for could be performed as a countermelody, thank the gods. She feigned concern, moving her hand around in her pocket lightly, then said,

"Oh, that's right! I stashed it in my lute for safekeeping!" She slid her lute from her back into her arms and played the first few notes of Rites In Mist. she pulled from her pool of magic as quickly as she could. The man's demeanor changed as she plucked the strings, but she completed the spell too quickly for him and he fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, snoring. People at the bar and nearby tables turned and looked on in surprise. Almost immediately the guard who was waiting by the door strode up to the scene, looked at her, and asked in a voice that clearly indicated that Eden had ruined his uneventful shift,

“What happened?” Eden knew that in Almaz, there were strict laws against using magic to coerce other people–sometimes the penalty was even death, depending on the severity.

“This man cast an enchantment on me in an attempt to get me in a position of compliance.” she said, confidently.

“Like you obviously did to him? Do you have any proof of your claim? Any witnesses to back your statement?” Eden stopped cold and shifted to winter. He was right. No one was paying attention and she obviously used magic to incapacitate someone.

“I witnessed it!” called a voice from a table over. Bran stood up from his seat. “I saw the man cast the incantation and can even recite the words he used, if it pleases you.”

The guard turned and regarded Bran with surprise. “Lord Leland! No, sir, a recital won’t be necessary. I’ll just take this wretch and let him sleep the spell off in a cell that matches his attire.” The guard reached down, picked up the man, whose hat miraculously stayed on, threw him over his shoulder, and walked out of the tavern with him.

***

When everything calmed down, Bran sat on the stool beside Eden.

“Thanks for bailing me out.” Eden said with all sincerity.

“Please forgive me for watching you so closely. I saw you perform magic earlier and I was trying to make a decision regarding you–a decision that was instantly galvanized when I spotted that wastrel casting his spell. I wasn’t going to let him leave with your money, rest assured, but I did want to see how you’d respond, and, Eden, you took him out. I think you’re exactly what I’m looking for.” Eden was suddenly uncomfortable.

“I mean no offense, Bran, but you’d be the third guy to come over here wanting something from me and–”

“Nothing like that.” Bran interjected quickly. “Megan and I are an item.”

“...what?”

“Yeah, you couldn’t tell?”

“I mean, now that you mention it, that is what it looks like, but, um, don’t nobles have to court… well… other nobles?”

“Yes, and while my family is not happy with that particular decision, I am valuable enough to House Leland that I have my way more often than not.”

“Well okay, then. That’s… That’s unexpected. Not unpleasantly so, mind you–”

Bran laughed softly. “Eden, relax. Just treat me like you would any other person and I will consider it a favor. Now, that being said, I do want to include you in a group I’m putting together.”

“What’s the purpose of this group?”

“Well, that’s what the meeting’s about, tomorrow, to let us know what our objective is. Based off of what I know, it’s probably semi-legal espionage.”

“How is something semi-legal?”

“You’ll understand at the meeting, but suffice it to say, the local thieves' guild is probably going to hate our guts, but the undertaking we’re partaking in won’t have the official backing of the senate. That would take divine intervention to pull off.”

“I didn’t understand a lot of what you said, but it sounds morally grey, it sounds like I’ll get to stick it to the thieves’ guild, and I’m familiar with divine encounters, so count me in.”

“...That’s it?”

“Yeah. I mean, you definitely need to work on your sales pitch, but this actually sounds like exactly what I’m looking for. I’ve got a job with a flexible schedule, a place to stay, and a great way to work on my magic and music? Yes, please.”

“Well I wasn’t contacted to lead this job because of my skills as an orator. But, that aside, you’ll be provided with food and your shelter will be paid for, both by House Leland. Your job is something that you can do for fun if you want, as our plan won’t take up the entirety of our day, every day.”

“Oh. sounds good, then. When’s the meeting?”

“Tomorrow evening. Nineteen chimes at one of these tables. The entire tavern is being reserved for this.”

“Excellent. I’m loving the sound of it.”

“Eden?”

“Yes, Brandy?”

“It’s Bran. But, Eden, I just wanted to make sure you know that I find you really strange.”

“Aw, thanks, Brandy.”