Eden

Year 1, Month 2, Week 2, Day 2

Eden’s six-chime wakeup call came too early. The inkeep banged on the door six times to ensure she got the message. She was groggy and in winter from being sad that she had to get up, but she quickly turned to spring when she found six new sets of burlap clothes and some undergarments that were, thankfully, not burlap, sitting on the nightstand. When did those come in? Had it been when she was asleep? Or was she too drunk to notice when she came inside the night previous? The sleepy elf staggered over to the door and checked it. Still locked. How did–nope. She didn’t care. She had new clothes. She went over to the clothes and picked up one of the shirts and nearly dropped it. It was soft. It looked like burlap. It was soft like silk, though! There was a note beside it from Bran. It looked like Bran was trying to spoil her!

Her spring turned to winter again as she read the note. The note explained that due to her poor disposition at the end of the night, Bran had the clothes teleported in, instead of bringing them up himself. He hoped she liked the clothes and that maybe they’d make her feel better. She put her hand to her head. That’s right. She had been drinking a bit last night. What had Drunk Eden done while Sober Eden was gone?

She bathed, put on her new clothes, did her breathing exercises–which actually seemed to be getting easier–, strapped on her dagger and lute, and headed out, only to find the rest of the group waiting outside the inn, talking casually with the innkeeper. As she stepped outside, all eyes turned to her.

“So, uh, good morning.” Eden said, mustering up the courage for autumn. “Would anyone like to fill me in on what I don’t remember last night? Because I would love to know what Bran’s note was talking about.”

“Honestly it was kind of hard to follow, all told.” Bran said, leaning against the nearby wall. “After the second bottle of vodka, you kind of lost it. We’ll tell you what you said, but I’d like for you to fill us in on what some of it meant.” Eden grimaced and squinched her eyes shut. Great. Just great.

“Okay, shoot.”

“Well, for starters, you went from green to orange and said, ‘I almost forgot my breathing!’ and proceeded to hyperventilate until you passed out. That freaked us out a bit until I managed to wake you up.”

“I’m supposed to do breathing exercises twice a day. It’s an important part of my training as a bard.”

“Okay, that checks out. After I woke you, though, you turned a jade color and your hair was almost entirely flowers, and you went over to Vorol, hugged him, and without letting go, said something to the effect of ‘hello, fellow elf, I’m totally a fae. You’re hot. Like hot hot. You’re way too old for me, though.’” Eden was now in dead winter; icicles hung from locks of her hair.

“And that’s not a really polite thing to say, by the way.” Vorol interjected, a little miffed. “I’m not even four-hundred yet! How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.” Eden said in a tiny voice. Vorol paused for a solid three seconds, processing what Eden said, then turned to Bran and said,

“She can’t come with us, Bran. No way.”

“What?” Bran turned and looked at Vorol incredulously. “She’s coming with us.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“She’s a child, Bran. It’d be like having a five-year-old with us.”

“Do you think that Senator Mystern didn’t realize that? If she’s cool with it, I am, too. Besides, I’ve seen her in action. It’s not like she’s defenseless.”

“It’s on your head, Bran.” Vorol grumbled.

“Yes, it is, Vorol.” Bran replied, almost cattily. "Literally all of this is on my head."

“So I got a little too comfortable when I drank too much. Lots of people do that.” Eden said placatingly. Vorol was having none of it.

“You didn’t let go of me for half an hour!”

“Vorol, chill.” Bran said, resting his hand on Vorol’s shoulder. “She won’t do that sober. Will you?” he asked, pointedly looking at Eden.

“Nope. I won’t. I promise.”

"And if you do that to Vorol again, I will personally render you unconscious. Is that understood?"

Eden gulped and nodded.

“Good. Now, the next thing you did was turn orange with red outlines and assault Sariel.”

“I what?”

“Yeah,” Bran continued, “you said, ‘Sky-L, you’re a dude, now! You and Azathoth are jerks for fusing together without telling me! Where have you been?’’”

“Sael? Azrael?”

“Those were the names!”

“‘Azathoth’ wasn’t even close!”

“You were slurring a bit.” Sariel added. “Who are they?”

“They’re… they… were… my friends. My closest friends. I lost them in Almaz. They’re gone.” A silence fell over the group.

“That…” Bran said hesitantly. “...That makes the next part make a bit more sense. You looked at me and and turned even more blue than you are now. You called me a friend and told me that you couldn’t have friends because you lose them all and you can’t lose any more of them without dying. Eden, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t make a spectacle out of yourself.”

“No, I just thought you were being dramatic. I had forgotten that you had said you were at Almaz when it fell.”

“No, I should have been more responsible with my alcohol. It won’t happen again, guys. Can you forgive me? I am excited to be working with you all.” Tokens of assurance came from the rest of the group. Eden returned to light spring. “And I wouldn’t mind becoming friends with you. We’re not there yet, but if we keep on track, it could work out.” The group heard sniffling and turned to find that the innkeeper was still present, sobbing and dabbing his face with a handkerchief.

“You guys are so sweet!” he said between sobs. The party walked away without addressing it.

“I thought we were all friends.” Vorol muttered.

“She could be wrong, Vorol.” Sariel said, reassuringly. “After all, you’re ugly; If she's wrong about that, she could be wrong about other things, too.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen ogres more handsome than you.”

***

The group walked through town, dodging the carriages and avoiding bumping into people. According to Bran, today was a slow day. Eden spied pickpockets eyeing the group from the sides of the buildings. They were all children. Eden went to summer. It burned her up that the thieves’ guild was employing children. They were literally raising people to be thieves! The pickpockets saw Eden and unceremoniously ran from the street. It seemed none of them wanted to be taken by the neck.

“Hey,” Vorol leaned over and asked Eden, “why are they acting like that? That’s never happened, as far as I’ve seen.” Eden turned from summer to autumn, dropping the illusory flames and red highlights for brown hair that rustled like dry leaves.

“Oh, well, I may have throttled one of the kids who tried to pickpocket me.” Sariel, still walking, tilted his head and frowned at Eden, as if perplexed.

“You may have? I’d say judging by the fact that they all abandoned the street that it's more than a matter of ‘may have’.”

“What would possess you to do something like that?” Bran chimed in, though his voice did not have the tone of someone who was actually concerned. Eden huffed and replied,

“Look, I hadn’t been in the city for more than a couple hours, and I was walking through the crowd and felt someone pickpocket me, so I reached out to grab the arm of the pickpocket, who I assumed would be an adult–”

“And where an adult’s arm should have been, a child’s neck was.” Sariel finished, nodding.

“Exactly.” Eden confirmed. “I let go of the kid and as soon as I did, a hobgoblin came over to, I guess rescue him.”

“An enforcer.” Vorol intoned. “Very likely he was there to beat the ears off you. I’m assuming he didn’t. Why?”

“I changed to summer. Whenever I do that, I get more aggressive and take risks that ordinarily I wouldn’t take. I felt guilty for grabbing the child before the hob came over, so I was in winter. When I realized that the hob was likely the kid’s handler, I entered summer and stood up to him. He took the kid and left.”

“Wait, wait,” Sariel stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and the rest of the group with him. “You mean you describe your color-changing thing in terms of seasons?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not just color. Right now I’m in autumn, where I’m either feeling courageous or resolute. Winter is usually sadness or fear. Spring is general happiness, and summer is anger and aggression. Since emotions are complex things, the seasons don’t always line up with exactly how I feel, but it’s usually pretty accurate.”

“Neat.” Sariel said; the party continued walking. “It’s definitely infuriating that the guild employs children. I truly wish the issue was preventable. Valekenport has programs in place to get the children off the street and into good homes or orphanages that provide schooling, but, more often than not, the children run away, right back to the guild. It’s some sort of strange group mentality they have. I can’t imagine children being motivated by money, but something draws them back there.”

Bran spoke, “It’s possible that the guild convinces them that taking the jobs into their own hands is empowering. Maybe they get to spend some of the money they make. To the eyes of those kids, that’s a right sight better than being stuffed into a cramped classroom and forced to stay still. By the time they consider regretting their life choices, they already have a profession and values carved hard into them that aren’t suited for legal living.”

“We definitely have to bring the guild down.” Eden said, gritting her teeth. “I'm going to stand on the guildmaster's riches when we do. Hopefully to his face." She seemed to calm down for a moment. "Speaking of which,” she asked, relaxing a bit, “you said we were going to the golden corner to prepare. What exactly is the golden corner?”

“Well,” Sariel addressed the question, “we’re about to find out how cool you are with monsters. Well, supposed monsters, anyway. Reformed monsters?”

“They’re not monsters.” Bran chided as they crossed the street, hurrying out of the way of a particularly fast carriage.

“Sure, you can say that, Lord Leland,” Vorol replied, “you’ve only dealt with the Way of the Caterpillar. Everywhere else, they will kill you and take you back to their megaliths to share you with their brood. I’ve fought them, Bran, fought for my life, and it always comes down to your life or theirs. The fact that they’re of the Way of the Caterpillar doesn't mean they’re not monsters; it just means they’ve got a leash.”

“To be fair, Vorol,” Sariel said softly, “that leash is held by one of their own, and Leamas does an excellent job of holding it.” Vorol scoffed. “They unnerve me, too, to be sure, but think about it–”

“Guys, what are you talking about?” Eden interrupted.

“Sanpinsani.” Bran said, evenly. “Have you ever seen a sanpinsani?”

“A snake person? Sure. There were several shops in Almaz that were owned and run by sanpinsani. They were all fine, nobody bothered them and they didn’t bother anyone.”

“Ah, but they had a green pearl hung on a string around their neck, didn’t they?” Sariel asked.

Eden frowned to consider it. “Come to think of it, they did. They all did.”

“So far as we can tell, that’s what indicates that they are peaceful. Every Sanpinsani before the Way of the Caterpillar was established was a raving mad monster that would kill you on sight. A few years ago, though, an emissary of the species who goes by the name of Leamas, along with her brood, set up a trading caravan that would approach defenseless travelers, particularly ones that were dangerously low on resources, and convince them to trade with them, promising no danger. After several successful encounters and absolutely no unsuccessful attempts, word got around that there was a caravan of ‘tame’ sanpinsani that were there only to help and earn coin. This paved the way for them to be able to set up shop near Valekenport, and, according to a few different reports on the subject, the caravan was attracting other sanpinsani, who would be converted, would wear a green pearl, would apprentice under Leamas, and would often travel to other cities to do the same thing. Eventually, the senate voted to let the Way of the Caterpillar in as merchants, able to set up shop in the city’s main marketplace.”

“And there haven’t been any attacks from this sect of sanpinsani?”

“Absolutely none. They also keep strict schedules and have immaculate alibis, so whenever one of them is accused of one crime or another, the accusation comes to nothing.”

“It’s interesting that they’ve been so successful so quickly.” Eden mused.

“Not so interesting, though,” Sariel responded, “when you consider that while they are all merchants, a good number of them are blacksmiths, fletchers, gemcutters, and other sorts of craftsmen and artisans, and that the things they make and sell are high quality items. Their wares are unrivaled and they make a lot of coin. Hence the term ‘Golden Corner’.

“So there’s been no trouble? No fights, no riots, no nothing on their end?” Eden asked. Bran shook his head.

“Nothing. They’re polite, they keep their heads down, they don’t cause trouble, and they do a lot of work in the city pro bono, as gestures of goodwill, and probably attempts to garner loyal customers. They genuinely seem like good citizens instead of monsters. So that’s how the city has been instructed to treat them.”

“But, Vorol, you have a problem with them?”

“You could say that.” Vorol replied softly.

“You shouldn’t.” Bran snapped.

“Vorol is,” Sariel said to Eden, “one voice of many in the city that shares his opinion. Many people have been attacked by sanpinsani out in the wilderness while traveling to another city, some have lost loved ones to the vicious snake people of the wilds, seen them torn to pieces before their eyes and dragged away. They’ve learned to associate the sanpinsani with other things that go bump in the night. It’s not a difficult thing to do. If Leamas hadn’t shown up, the sanpinsani would still all be considered monsters, for their species as a whole does do monstrous things. Bran is one of the people that tries to treat people who aren’t currently harming him or working against him like people. Vorol is the kind of person that is having a hard time not only trusting that which once wounded him, but also making a distinction between what once wounded him and what might yet, based on prejudices that have served him well in the past.”

“So, like goblins.” Eden said, thoughtfully.

“What?” all three of the other members of the group asked as one.

“Goblins and Hobgoblins are originally from the twilightlands. They were known for being crafty, building traps for people, and, several tribes had attempted to make empires of themselves built on slavery. Yet, most goblins are only given cursory suspicion at most in today’s society.”

“To be fair,” Sariel said, “That happened over two centuries ago, and their integration into our society has been happening for just a little over a century. This development is only a few years old. Some wounds take time to heal. With time, I’m sure people will learn to see the pearl before they see the fangs.”

“They took my best friend.” Vorol said, stubbornly. “That’s not something someone just lets go of.” Eden turned to winter and grimaced. She could definitely relate.

“I have to agree with Bran on this.” Sariel said hesitantly. “These sanpinsani are people. They’ve proven themselves. At least they are deserving of your mercy.”

“Mercy? That’s a word that sweetly rings from the mouth of a priest-to-be. I’m from the warrior clans of Thamok. What god is going to compel mercy from me or mine? Should I be comfortable staring at the fangs of those who have suddenly decided they’re civilized while the blood of my ancestors calls out for vengeance?” Eden gripped Vorol by the arm, which was as firm as a tree branch. The group didn't stop, but they all they focused on the smaller elf.

“Vorol, I’ve lost everything. I know something of your pain. Maybe not all of it, or even most of it, but I had to watch as my best friend fell to his death amid a hopeless situation. Do you believe me? Do you acknowledge this?” Vorol nodded and Eden let go of his arm. “Good. Now, these sanpinsani didn’t kill your friend. These sanpinsani, like any new people you meet, need to be treated like people.” She expended the little bit of power she had saved up from the other day. “Deal with them on an individual basis, if need be. One conversation at a time, if you have to. Just don’t let your pain rule how you treat other people who haven’t done anything to you.” Vorol stared at her for a minute, his green eyes seeming to swirl. After a while, he relaxed and nodded.

“You’re right. I should be careful in how I treat those who haven’t wronged me. I don't know if I can do that, though.”

"Why not?" Eden pressed. Vorol fell silent for a few moments before responding.

"His name was Irtolsu. We had known each other for almost eighty years. I know you're young, Eden, so you don't know what it's like to have someone that can not only tolerate your existence, but enjoy your presence for the equivalent of a human's lifetime; because you don't know that, you also don't know what that kind of loss is like."

"But--"

"No, don't interrupt me. I'm not done." He raised his voice. They all crossed another street. Vorol began speaking, a little more softly. "It wasn't as if he had died in his sleep. It wasn't as if Irtolsu left on an adventure, and then I got a letter that he had passed. Nothing like that. We were both traveling and we were ambushed. And those snakes, they didn't come at us with swords or clubs; they spat venom at us. My reflexes saved me, but the venom got him in the eyes. They saw he was blinded, and they all focused on him, the weaker of the two, four of them biting at once. They weren't prepared for me, I suppose. I took them apart, one of them before he could even let go of poor Tolsu. But we were out in the wilderness and he died seconds later from their envenomed bites. He died in my arms."

"I'm sorry." Eden ventured. Vorol held his hand up.

"That's not the point. I got back to the grove where we lived so his parents could bury him and I spoke to other people about it. As it turns out, my tribe has lost several members over the centuries specifically to sanpinsani attacks. Apparently such attacks also become more common that bandit attacks, the farther east you go. Other people had lost loved ones to these monsters that don't demand your jewelry from you, but instead kill you and eat you. If you're lucky. If you're not, they take you back to wherever the hells they come from and do gods-know-what to you. So I travel to Valekenport to get a new start, to test myself in the arena, and what do I find?"

"Vorol..." Bran warned as the elf's voice increased in volume and pitch. He nodded to Bran and continued a little lower.

"Fucking serpent people is what I find." Vorol turned and spat on the sidewalk. "They have their own market with prices that put people who offer the same things in a financial bind and they're treated better than your average person despite it. It's atrocious. I sit down in bars and I hear nothing but my same opinion from countless others who find that their voices are not only ignored by the government, but actively silenced. I'm not an outlier, Eden. I'm part of, if not the majority, then a significant portion of this city's populace that have been terrorized at one point or another by sanpinsani. And, sure, I'll give you that these ones are polite and well-behaved, like actual people; but when they smile at me, I see their sharp teeth and the images of my dear Irtolsu being bitten, pierced by hateful fangs, dance across my vision." Vorol bowed his head and stopped on the sidewalk, the rest of the group stopping with them. He seemed to have lost his fire as he began speaking once more. "Trauma like that doesn't go away simply because reason says it must, Eden. It just doesn't." He turned and looked at the younger elf. "You're a nice kid. Opinionated, maybe, but that's not such an obstacle. You can see I am, too. I wouldn't mind being your friend. I'll even be polite to the sanpinsani in the interest of obtaining your friendship. But that's the most I can do right now. At least until it gets easier for me."

Eden, a bit perplexed at the conversation having taken such a turn just nodded and said, "That'll do for now. We'll work on it, though."

The group started walking again, little more was said on the subject, and, after a while, the group found themselves in the market, which was fairly ordinary for a market, with some people selling foodstuffs, some selling clothes, and many others selling a wide array of items. On the north end of the market, there was a great open area that was finely polished, down to the stones of the floor. Every stand there was fully stocked, with customers of all shapes and sizes haggling over different baubles with different colored snake people. Eden looked to the left and saw a sanpinsani attending a stand that sold teakwood with different kinds of polishes that were stacked neatly in cans with price tags hanging from the lids; another stand held marvelously-crafted clocks that were small enough to sit on a desk; yet another stand was stocked with vials of various liquids, some bubbling, some changing color, and others floating in midair. This section of the marketplace wasn’t colored golden, so much as the entire place was metaphorical gold for both customer and merchant.

Bran walked the group over to a stand connected to an outdoor forge. Three red sanpinsani were working weapons, one with the smelter, one on a grinding wheel. And one shaping metal on an anvil. A fourth sanpinsani, a green one, manned the stand, surrounded by weapons both hanging above the stand from the overhang and laying down on the counter, and yet more hanging on the doors on each side of the stand.

“Welcome friends!” The sanpinsani cried brightly. He wore a nametag that said, Hello, my name is Tekek. “Today is weapon day, where all weaponry is twenty percent off! If you’re needing work on armor, our associated companion stand is just across the Corner,” he gestured to another forge-stall hybrid on the exact opposite side of the Corner from their stall. Another sanpinsani waved enthusiastically. “See? My sister, Jyrsis, says hello!”

“You don’t have an accent!” Eden blurted out, amazed. Bran placed the palm of his hand on the front of Eden’s shoulder briefly and said,

“I’m sorry, she’s new to town.”

“It’s no problem!” Tekek said, amiably. “The fact that she asks questions means that she cares enough to ask.” He then turned to Eden. “We use a different part of our mouth to make the hissing sound than most people do to make the ‘S’ sound in words; hissing to make the ‘S’ sound drags it out a little bit. Many sanpinsani, especially new converts, haven’t successfully trained their mouths to not hiss with their speech. It takes much effort at the beginning.”

“I see. Might I bother you with one other question, then, Mister Tekek?” The sanpinsani inclined his head atop his serpentine neck. “It looks like many of you wear name tags. Why?” The snake-person turned up the back corners of its mouth in a smile and replied,

“Many have a hard time seeing us as… neighbors. People. Our wise leader, Leamas, instructed us all to wear clothes and name tags, for if we wear clothes, we are considered civilized, and if we wear name tags, we are known to have names, and therefore people can see that we are individuals, and that makes it easier for others to see us as people.” Eden was horrified. Was it really this bad, that they had to strategize their every move? “May I ask you two things, small elf?” Tekek asked.

“Sure thing, Mister Tekek.”

“What is your name?”

“You may call me Eden.”

“Eden, what is it that causes you to change color? You were as orange as hot metal when you walked up, then green when you heard me first speak, and now you are more blue than the sky. It’s beautiful.”

“I’m from the twilightlands. The elves there are all like me.” Vorol snapped his head over to stare at Eden. “It’s in our blood to change colors with the way we feel. It’s referred to as ‘communication of the soul’.”

“Thank you for indulging me.” Tekek said, again inclining his head. Now, what can I do for the friends of my new friend Eden?”

“We’re here to silver our weapons.” Bran replied.

“Ah.” The sanpinsani said, inhaling quickly. “It is a rodent problem, then?”

“Indeed. We’re willing to pay extra for speed and discretion, if you are willing.”

“Speed will certainly be a problem. You see, we are currently working with normal steel across both the smelter here and the smelter we keep across town–They are all laden with orders and none of them are free to have the silvering process ready for your weapons.”

“I see. If possible we would like to keep our business in the Way of the Caterpillar, so perhaps you could point me to a sanpinsani smith who would have some time to do what we need?”

“Oh, certainly, I could, but I might have a compromise for you, so I can keep your business and you can get silvered weapons.”

“Alright, then, what’s the compromise?”

“I can speed up some orders that we have relaxed into and make a space of time to work on your order, but it will not be done today, despite being a simple process. Tomorrow, but not today. However, I have plenty of silvered weapons available to me that you can use while I work with your weapons. Simply present the weapons you want silvered, pay the silvering fee, and this time tomorrow, turn in your loaned weapons in to me, and you will receive your weapons, silvered, and, I’ll have them blessed at the temple of Aletheia for no cost.”

“Then I’ll pay the going rate for silvering them.”

“There’s no need to pay that much, really…”

“No, I insist. One ounce of gold for every ounce of silver used.”

“Very well. There is only the small issue of licensing. I hate to ask…”

“It’s nothing.” Bran said politely. One by one, the group presented their cards.

“Wonderful. Now, which weapons would you desire silvering?” The group unloaded their weapons, and the sanpinsani handed them suitable replacements: a spear for Vorol, a dagger for Eden, a curved shortsword for Bran, and a silver-topped wood staff for Sariel. Bran made their transaction, swapped the weapons, and started on their way to their next location.

“Oh, and Eden?” Tekek called. Eden turned and stopped.

“Yes, mister Tekek?”

“I don’t wish to provoke you, but it’s ‘Miss Tekek’.” Eden turned to winter again.

“I’m so sorry!” She began to apologize. Tekek held up her hand.

“It is no problem–sanpinsani features are not always so pronounced as your shapely ones–but since we are friends, I do wish to be accurate in our references.”

“Sure thing, Miss Tekek!” The group waved and set out.

“Rat problem?” Eden asked Bran, trying to shake off the embarrassment of her previous conversation.

“I’ll explain when we get to where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?”

“To a certain merchant. This one has been in the city for a long time, and she’s known to be trustworthy and discreet. Honestly, knowing her, I don’t really know how much help she’s going to be, but at the very least her shop is a secure location; we won’t be overheard there.”

“Is nowhere safe, then?”

“Honestly,a good portion of the city is probably okay to speak about anything, but there’s always a small chance the wrong person is listening and tells someone high-ranking enough in the–among our adversaries that our advantage of surprise will be lost; I don’t feel like taking any major risks, just yet. But, first, now that I think about it, let’s stop and get me a jacket to house our little panic button.”