The Charlatan

03. All Thumbs

Did Velte have a word for Spirits? Air couldn't remember. The cold river waters had soaked through his clothing, and Air was more focused on steadying his shivering and loud chattering than drilling vocabulary. Thankfully, the guard and constabulary who had been chasing him seemed to be giving up their search. Evidently they didn't think anyone would be foolish enough to dive into the icy river. Humorous. Air would be able to crawl back out onto the dry bank soon. In the darkness, he could not see his partner hidden in the reeds, but he supposed that that was a good thing. He waited many minutes after the guards' voices had faded away before speaking up.

"Thank the honorable Spirits that we were unharmed," Air mumbled in Genesese. He stood up from his crouch and searched for his companion. He saw no one. "Hey, Vulghebt, where did you go?" Air asked in mixed Velte and Genesese, hoping that the more familiar language would prompt an answer from the Veltie. Nothing. Had the courier fled? She hadn't seemed particularly pleased to be in his company, but this was rather rude. A handsome and innocent lad saves her life and she curses him out and leaves him to drown? What is this country? Growing irritated, Air searched the reeds. He suddenly heard a rustling and splash to his left. "Finally coming out to thank me for saving your life?" he asked. No one emerged from the reeds, however, so Air pushed them aside to confront the brazen Veltie upfront.

At first, Air saw nothing and cursed his imagination. But then he thought he glimpsed a boot bobbing above the waters. Something was amiss. He swore he had seen the toe upturned. Splashing through the waters carelessly, Air reached down into the water and grabbed something solid. He pulled it up.

It was indeed a boot. And attached to the boot was a leg.

Air clumsily fished the courier out of the water, and after he made sure she was breathing, he hauled her up onto his shoulder. "This is not the place to be sleeping. Are you even a real fugitive?" Air shifted back to his native tongue and he continued muttering freely until he had lumbered his way past the acres of arable countryside to the woods. He unceremoniously dropped the Veltie behind a bush and laid himself against the nearest tree.

Air was built for short-distance sprinting. Being an unapologetic entertainer in the middle of busy streets rammed him against the law often, but his case wasn't worth more than a half-hearted chase. He had already evaded both the guard and constabulary a couple of times before today's events. It had seemed like all of a sudden, the entire city had ground to a halt and initiated a lockdown. Air had just set himself up in a corner of the main square when a masse of business owners swiftly filed out of their stalls and began questioning him about 'suspicious activity.'

Air buried his face in his hands as he thought about his poor instruments, trampled and likely littered around the square in pieces as if they were little more than garbage. How he loathed the arrogance and entitlement of the rich.

Air was snapped out of his upset by the stirring of his companion. She let out a long groan as she rolled herself over onto her knees. Water rained from her hair and her clothing, and she shivered before turning abruptly to Air. She glared at him. As if the fault for her sopping mess is mine! Air thought. Already agitated, but thoroughly exhausted, he only glared back. They said nothing to each other for several hours, sullen over the night's events. It was well past mid-moonrise before the Veltie came within even five paces of Air.

"Clara."
What? Air scowled at the Veltie as she extended her hand.
"My name is Clara. I thank you for getting me out of trouble." The Veltie spoke perfect Genesese.
Air hesitantly shook Clara's hand. Her expression was firm, but her gesture was warm. Air was too tired to retort with his usual drollery so he grunted his acknowledgement. The moon set slowly while both outlaws drifted in and out of sleep.

Air woke with a start. The moon had long set and the leaves above him glistened with morning dew. Air made to sit up.
No dice.
Dazed by the blinding sun and an oncoming headache, Air flailed his limbs around and mumbled Genesese curses. He was being restrained. As Air blinked the sleep out of his eyes, he found himself flattened under the boot of a muddy and sodden young lady. It wasn't Clara. Her pale face was dirt-stained, and her hair disheveled. Her gaze was ice cold, reflecting a heritage Air knew he shared.

Before Air could even begin uttering a coherent sentence, the girl above him suddenly moved her hands to close off his windpipe. Her eyes were furious as she harshly demanded, "Food and valuables, now, and the Spirits spare you." Her inflection was characteristic of the peoples of the far north. Air also caught a flash of a tattoo peeking over the collar of the girl's shirt. Ah, she is one of those... Air pointed to his pocket. With one hand still on his throat, the bandit, the real bandit, grabbed the last of Air's valuable possessions and sprinted off into the trees. Bankrupt now, huh? Air exhaled, letting out the remnants of a half-hearted laugh.

"You may cease your pitiful staring at that fouled tree bark and do something useful now."
Clara's voice was level, though her words betrayed her.
Air, still sitting on the ground, turned his head, but saw no one. He looked up.

Clara was hanging upside down, her feet tied with rope that suspended her a decent man's height above the ground in a tree.
"And how, my dear lady, did you manage to get yourself up there?"
"I will finish what she started if you do not pick yourself up and help this dear lady out of this tree."
Air grimaced and rubbed at his neck before moving to support Clara while she undid her bindings.

"My luck that I get robbed after the first peaceful slumber I get in days!" Clara began ranting angrily. "...left us to starve! ...took everything—"
"Even your message?" Air interrupted.
Clara stopped her ranting to give Air a strange look. "What?"
Air pressed on, gently, "You're a courier, right? You must have been being chased yesterday for the message you are carrying. Where are you delivering?" Clara looked Air over, as if evaluating his trustworthiness. After a brief silence, she seemed to realize something and her eyes widened.

"Genesis," she said.
"You're delivering to Genesis?" Air asked.
"No. No no no, the King was expecting word from Genesis... Who was the girl?" Clara suddenly asked.
"No friend of mine. She spoke like the Seers in my country do. Honestly, the lot of them are greatly disturbed," Air answered, although he was still lost in whatever Clara was babbling about. Clara suddenly started to run in the direction the bandit girl had run off to. Air tripped over himself as he tried to catch up to her. They emerged from the woods for a brief moment before Air tackled Clara and dragged her back to the safety of flora. This here is a madwoman. Running back to the Citadel when we only barely managed to escape the guard? Absurd! he thought as he wrestled a flailing Clara.

"We need to follow her! She could be my ticket to redemption! Let go of me!" Clara managed to squirm out of Air's grip as she yelled profanity, but Air tried to reason with her. "Whoever she is, she is long gone and we're wanted outlaws! Unless you want to get yourself captured and executed today, I suggest that we compose ourselves."

Clara huffed and let out her last breath of anger. She was frustrated. Completely different from the girl I met yesterday. Air waited for Clara to sort out her distress. Whatever opportunity involving the Genesese bandit she missed was apparently a real setback for her. She seemed to calm down after a while, because she apologized and handed Air the rope she had disentangled herself from earlier.

"We're heading south."

! ItCoC