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Labor rental outfit. Could be a disaster if it's for fetching and carrying, could be all right if she's hired out for writing, could be mediocre if it's for caring for people's invalid maiden aunts, could be intolerable if it's code for "whorehouse" - and there are more girls than boys in the batch she's currently shackled in a wagon with. Aya's debating whether to start a conversation with the slave next to her to see if she knows more when -
An embroidered bear that looks like it's wearing a suit of lace-bordered plate armor and has tiny useless metal wings to match and is at least four times its likely original size charges the horses, who startle madly and go completely out of control.
The wagon goes over. There's a fence, at the side of the road, there's posted warning signs, beware Magic in this ravine until post marking its end, but the wagon with all the slaves in it crashes right through the fence. Gravity's upended, everyone's screaming, some of the screams cut off abruptly as they tumble end over end down the slope. Aya flings manacled hands over the back of her head, feels a familiar snap in her arm as something strikes it - that's broken; and now her nose is too - there's a splinter of wood through her calf and her ear's ringing and wet with blood and she's got to have cracked a rib -
She's completely unharmed, unperforated, not even embroidered as far as she can tell. The steel around her wrists and ankles is gone. She doesn't see any of the other slaves - no, on second though, maybe she does, there's a bright orange snake with a tail that splits into five fish-finned ropes and a beetle the size of her head with the lyrics of Midnight Lightning written across its wing casings in block letters and a surprised-looking rabbit with wheels for forefeet and a broom-end for a tail. Everyone else is either much less recognizable or vanished entirely. But she's fine.
(She checks her heel. It's still marked. So she's unrestrained and unsupervised, but not, technically speaking, free.)
She needs to get out of the magic soonish, before it gets bored with its minimal alterations of her person, decides she'd be prettier as a glass music box decorated with butterfly wings, or a leather-upholstered down pillow that drinks blood, or a goose with windmill blades spinning around its neck. She's not, however, sure that she can climb the hill. It's likely she'd get just far out enough to count as having exited the magic and then fall, taking her chances a second time, and while this occasion she was lucky, nobody else was - she doesn't think she's been lied to all her life about the general safety of the environment. She'll have to go out the other way. She wades into the waist-high grass, routing around the clump made of swords and the clump made of swaying violin strings and the patch that might just be pitch-black flora but might be something else - but most of the grass seems only to be grass; plants tend to be safer in magics than animals. She winds up startling a dozing bird-eel-cat hybrid so thoroughly mixed up that she has no best guess as to what it was originally. It flap-flop-flees.
And then, when she hasn't seen an embroidered plant for a while since the shrub that appeared to be growing assorted national flags for leaves and onions by way of fruit, and thinks she might be close to the edge, there's a door.
It is freestanding in its frame, painted bright and glossy red with a few words in other colors on it running in various directions ("entirely", "yellow", "jump", "choristers", and "melting"), has pink fringe growing out of its hinges, and has where a handle might normally be, a slender open jar affixed with its mouth pointing up which is full of small-denomination coins, dried cloves, and what looks like it might be olive oil.
Aya has no idea how big this magic is. She doesn't know if drinking the water or eating anything vaguely appetizing that she finds around it will be taken as a second invitation to turn her blue or centipedal or dead. She could turn back and try to climb out the way she came, but - then what?
She's nowhere near the border.
Her legal owner is the employer of the fellow who was driving her and the others to the labor rental office.
The magic hasn't given her a set of papers and it has not unmarked her heel, and provoking it is more likely to make things worse than better.
And she's never heard of a door in a magic before.
She gingerly touches the jar, which is cool under her hand - and she pulls - and the door opens, tufts of pink in the hinges squeaking, to reveal what looks like a bar, which definitely isn't behind it if she peers around the frame.
Aya takes a deep breath and she walks in.
namesthesky
onthewind
"You're welcome. Oo! Hold on, I have a map, I can show you where they are."
She goes and retrieves the map, finds the cities, and shows Aya where they're at in comparison to both Perinixu's domain and where they're located now. The cities are closer to Perinixu's domain than Raezenoth's; it's likely to work out in Aya's favor.
She goes and retrieves the map, finds the cities, and shows Aya where they're at in comparison to both Perinixu's domain and where they're located now. The cities are closer to Perinixu's domain than Raezenoth's; it's likely to work out in Aya's favor.
onthewind
Then that is done. Idania starts explaining various routes and their levels of safety, and how domains and country borders interact with both. She's helping to map out a good route to get to both Perinixu's domain and to the libraries when the door opens and a scruffy looking man walks in.
Wordlessly, he finds his way to the couch and sits down. No greeting, no acknowledgement, just - sit.
Wordlessly, he finds his way to the couch and sits down. No greeting, no acknowledgement, just - sit.
onthewind
"Hey, Rae," says Idania, barely looking up from the map. "Bored again?"
"Yes," says the scruffy man, in a voice that echoes across the entire room. He doesn't need to be translated. His voice echoes in Esevi, Jorten, and the vaguest hint of Ancient Sudre, at the same time but not mixing in the slightest.
Aya can probably put two and two together, considering Idania called him his name.
"Yes," says the scruffy man, in a voice that echoes across the entire room. He doesn't need to be translated. His voice echoes in Esevi, Jorten, and the vaguest hint of Ancient Sudre, at the same time but not mixing in the slightest.
Aya can probably put two and two together, considering Idania called him his name.
onthewind
The god looks up and looks at Aya as if he's seen her for the first time. He tilts his head, but otherwise doesn't say anything else.
"Hello," he says. Then he looks at Idania. "You're helping her find a route, aren't you."
"Yup!" says Idania, in a singsong voice.
"She should find her own and become stronger for it," replies the god, with utmost dignity.
"You're being naggy again."
Her god doesn't deign to reply. But he smiles, just faintly.
"Hello," he says. Then he looks at Idania. "You're helping her find a route, aren't you."
"Yup!" says Idania, in a singsong voice.
"She should find her own and become stronger for it," replies the god, with utmost dignity.
"You're being naggy again."
Her god doesn't deign to reply. But he smiles, just faintly.
namesthesky
Aya takes this general reception to mean that he doesn't want to talk to her, which is reasonable enough in its way. She falls silent and goes back to mapping, a bit slower than before.
onthewind
Mapping, mapping, then Rae says, "This one isn't as annoying as your last one."
"She can definitely hear you," says Idania, rolling her eyes.
"Yes. You are not throwing yourself at my feet and singing my praises," says Raezenoth, to Aya.
"It annoys him," provides Idania in a stage whisper.
"She can definitely hear you," says Idania, rolling her eyes.
"Yes. You are not throwing yourself at my feet and singing my praises," says Raezenoth, to Aya.
"It annoys him," provides Idania in a stage whisper.
onthewind
"Good," he says, unconcerned about her obvious trepidation. "Keep it up."
"She," teases Idania, "is not going to stay here, so she doesn't need to. She's heading off to Perinixu."
"Ah. At least she has good taste when it comes to other gods," says Raezenoth, eying Aya. It's impossible to tell if he's insulted or not. His expression is near-blank.
"She," teases Idania, "is not going to stay here, so she doesn't need to. She's heading off to Perinixu."
"Ah. At least she has good taste when it comes to other gods," says Raezenoth, eying Aya. It's impossible to tell if he's insulted or not. His expression is near-blank.
onthewind
It does, certainly.
Pause. Mapping, mapping.
"I continue to be bored," says the god.
"Well what do you want me to do about it?" his acolyte replies with a snort.
"Dance," he says, in an utter deadpan.
Idania laughs. "Okay. You know what? Fine, I will dance." She puts down the pencil she was using, and then does a little jig. It's kind of hilarious, she isn't much good at it.
"Riveting," drawls Raezenoth. "Your mastery of the dance astounds me."
"Oh, shut up."
Pause. Mapping, mapping.
"I continue to be bored," says the god.
"Well what do you want me to do about it?" his acolyte replies with a snort.
"Dance," he says, in an utter deadpan.
Idania laughs. "Okay. You know what? Fine, I will dance." She puts down the pencil she was using, and then does a little jig. It's kind of hilarious, she isn't much good at it.
"Riveting," drawls Raezenoth. "Your mastery of the dance astounds me."
"Oh, shut up."
onthewind
"Happy?" she asks, stopping her dancing.
"Moderately," says the god serenely.
"I will throw something at you, you realize."
"I recommend the pillow," he replies, unconcerned.
"Okay," she shrugs, and that is when the god gets hit in the face with a pillow. Flop. Pillow fatality.
"Moderately," says the god serenely.
"I will throw something at you, you realize."
"I recommend the pillow," he replies, unconcerned.
"Okay," she shrugs, and that is when the god gets hit in the face with a pillow. Flop. Pillow fatality.
onthewind
"Your aim's gotten better," observes Raezenoth, from under his pillow. "Or perhaps that was luck."
That earns him another pillow, to the face. Flumph. That'll show that god who's boss. "Take a guess at which!" laughs Idania.
"I don't dare," he drawls. "You will throw another pillow at me regardless."
"Yup!" Pillow. Soon he will be buried in a pile of them, and he doesn't seem to care. It's starting to become obvious why Idania has a lot of pillows, scattered around. Eventually, she does still manage to run out. Raezenoth is buried under feathery and fluffy doom, barely visible.
"Still bored?" she asks, amused.
"No," he says. Then he gets up easily, dislocating all pillows. He stands. "Thank you." He pats her on the head, then walks out, like nothing happened.
"So! That was Rae," says Idania brightly, plopping down to get back to maps.
That earns him another pillow, to the face. Flumph. That'll show that god who's boss. "Take a guess at which!" laughs Idania.
"I don't dare," he drawls. "You will throw another pillow at me regardless."
"Yup!" Pillow. Soon he will be buried in a pile of them, and he doesn't seem to care. It's starting to become obvious why Idania has a lot of pillows, scattered around. Eventually, she does still manage to run out. Raezenoth is buried under feathery and fluffy doom, barely visible.
"Still bored?" she asks, amused.
"No," he says. Then he gets up easily, dislocating all pillows. He stands. "Thank you." He pats her on the head, then walks out, like nothing happened.
"So! That was Rae," says Idania brightly, plopping down to get back to maps.
onthewind
"We have a strange relationship," she explains. "That's not typical with gods and acolytes, if you were wondering."
onthewind
Idania giggles. "He's started giving me more pillows, too. Just shows up sometimes and drops one off and leaves without explanation."
onthewind
"I think it's way more formal, less... Us being ourselves. But I wouldn't know very well, I suppose, I'm not an acolyte to another god."
namesthesky
"Does he come sit on your couch and provoke you into throwing pillows at him while making no facial expressions often?"
onthewind
Idania giggles. "Sometimes. He does other things, too. Occasionally he'll ask me to tell him about my day or distract him from something he doesn't like, too. Once he walked in, stole my Arabek board, and set up the entire game then looked at me expectantly."