In Ink and Wine

Chapter 25 - West Draulin

After their frantic escape from Lakeside to Dallo, the ship was nearly peaceful. Busy, always, with the sailors rushing around working at all time of day and night, but peaceful. A few nights of good sleep helped Klairia recover from whatever sickness she had, and soon she was the darling of the ship. The crew loved watching her tentatively walk around and clumsily clap along when they sang sea shanties. Clarille felt better, too. The fresh ocean air and no fear of Berver suddenly appearing left her feeling refreshed and optimistic.

Clarille and Hessa were given a private room to stay in, which was simply a storage room with blankets laid over the crates to function as a bed. Jorji stayed with the crew in a hammock, and seemed to be managing alright on the ship, although Clarille did notice that he tended to avoiding looking out at the ocean.

Clarille's favourite part of the trip was sailing alongside the Cliffs of Loth. They had looked enormous from the other side, looming over Zianna City. Somehow they looked even bigger beside the ocean. Huge, towering cliffs of white marble, sparkling in the sunlight. As they continued north, she was surprised to see that the island of New Teltar also soaring above the ocean, with sharp cliffs making up its entire western coast.

Then they rounded the northern end of the island, and arrived in West Draulin.

West Draulin was breathtaking.

Every city Clarille had ever seen was a mainland city. A Zian city, thousands of years old. They all had their differences, but their main design had been the same. West Draulin was entirely different.

High up on the cliff, at the northernmost tip of the island, stood West Draulin's huge fortress. Guard towers stretched above a thick, sturdy wall. A wall without the signs of age or decay that could be seen in mainland cities. West Draulin was a Teltish city, build just under four hundred years earlier, during the Conquests.

Beneath the fortress, the rest of the city sprawled out. The city was densely packed, with no clear divide between richer and poorer districts. Clarille suspected, although she couldn't see it, that the far edge of the city blended into the countryside beyond, turning into villas and farms. The near side followed the natural slope of the land, meeting with the ocean in an organized, busy port.

West Draulin's naval superiority was undeniable. The port of full of ships—more ships than Clarille had ever seen. Tall warships with neatly tied sails and billowing flags. Stout, sturdy merchants, weighed down by goods and floating low in the water. Fishing ships trailing nets, sleek messenger ships, beautiful ships of leisure for the nobility. And between all of them, tinier sailboats and rowboats, darting about, constantly on the move.

There was no way Berver or her family would find them here. West Draulin was the perfect place to hide. The perfect sanctuary. In a city like West Draulin, it seemed like anything was possible.

***

Despite her excitement about the city, Clarille was a little sad to say goodbye to the captain and his crew. But the ship had to move on, and Clarille understood that.

They landed in West Draulin in the morning, and by early afternoon the three of them were walking through the streets, looking for lodging. Jorji had a slip of paper in his hand that the captain had given him, which had the name of a Crelan tavern and inn scrawled across it. It wasn't a long term solution by any means, but it would work for a few days until they could get their bearing.

The tavern was a popular place, which seemed like a good sign. When they stepped inside, the hubbub was nearly deafening as drunk Crelans shouted to each other in a strange mix of sea shanties and creative insults. At least everyone seemed to be having a good time.