I will still be around, and hopefully still posting things until the story gets back on its feet, but it is highly unlikely I will be able to do anything until June.

BASICS
Name: Len din’Ferago sa’Vienne
Birthdate: Believe it or not, my birthday often falls on the last day of Festival.
Birth Place: A small village at the foot of the Trans-Vienni mountains; I am sure you have not heard of it.
Current Location: The second story of a shop I tend with Mer on the outskirts of Nachtlin proper.
Eye Color: Favorably compared to violet.
Hair Color: Brown.
Height: Not the least bit imposing.
Weight: Sturdy.
Piercing: Several, mostly in my ears. Each one has a meaning.
Tattoos: A few, but I only share them with those I am close to.
Boyfriend/Girlfriend: None.
Overused Phrase: I have never paid much attention. It probably involves chastising Mercutio.

FAVORITES
Food: I enjoy all manners of baked goods.
Candy: No real preference. If I want something sweet, I am most likely to bake something.
Number: Large, positive numbers, at least in so far as what I like to see in the till.
Color: I am partial to earth tones and greens.
Animal: I feel a kinship to creatures with feathers, for what it’s worth.
Drink: A good, strong tea.
Alcohol Drink: While fraug is generally considered to be a northern creation, many people in the rainy forests created similar fruit-based fermented beverages which are far more palatable than their northern counterparts.
Bagel: With spices and a pat of butter.
Letter: No particular preference.
Body Part on Opposite Sex: I enjoy a lovely face as much as the next person.

THIS OR THAT
Pepsi or Coke: Er…?
McDonald’s or Burger King: Hmm.
Strawberry or Watermelon: Berries certainly bake better than melons.
Hot Tea or Iced Tea: Hot tea, as strong as I can make it.
Chocolate or Vanilla: Both are good, depending on the context.
Hot Chocolate or Coffee: Again, they are both good for different things.
Kiss or Hug: I enjoy both.
Dog or Cat: I have never had much use for pets.
Rap or Punk: Um…
Summer or Winter: Summers, definitely. I’ve found that I do not winter well.
Movies or Funny Movies: Hrm.
Love or Money: I have found that I am happier when I have love than when I have money.

YOUR…
Bedtime: An hour or so after the shop closes.
Most Missed Memory: I miss my mother more than I can ever hope to say.
Best Physical Feature: I am fit, despite living a quiet life as a baker.
First Thought Waking Up: Generally, I am pleased to greet another day.
Goal For This Year: See the shop through another year without losing money.
Best Friend: I was very close with my sister for a time, and there was a time I would have considered Kiih my brother, but for now, Mercutio is the closest I have to a “best friend.”
Weakness: I find I have a difficult time turning away someone in need.
Fears: While I do not live in fear of it, the possibility of losing those I care for is always in the back of my mind.
Heritage: Both of my parents came from the province of Vienne, though my father came from the northern edge and my mother from the “less civilized” southern area.
Longest relationship: I would think that the relationship I have had with my sister would be the longest, since I have known her my entire life?

HAVE YOU…
Ever Drank: More in my youth than now.
Ever Smoked: Often.
Pot: Pardon?
Ever Been Drunk: Again, more in my youth than now.
Ever Been Beaten Up: It has happened more than once.
Ever Beaten Someone Up: This has also happened more than once.
Ever Shoplifted: I have not taken from another personally, but I have known people who took what they needed from those who could spare it.
Ever Skinny Dipped: When I was younger.
Ever Kissed Opposite Sex: Yes.
Been Dumped Lately: No.

IN A GUY/GIRL:
Favorite Eye Color: I have no particular preference.
Favorite Hair Color: Again, no preference.
Short or Long: I do tend to prefer long hair, but I can hardly fault someone for wishing to keep it short.
Height: It is my experience that most women I meet are taller than I am.
Style: I do not know what this means.
Looks or Personality: If a person is interesting, I am more likely to find them attractive.
Drugs and Alcohol: What someone chooses to do, so long as they do not harm others with their choices, is their business.
Muscular or Really Skinny: The look of someone who is starved is hardly appealing.
Who Is the Guy or Girl You Wish You Were With Right Now?: If Mercutio knew, I am sure he would never let me forget it.

RANDOMS
Number of Regrets in the Past: My fair share.
What Country/World Do You Want to Visit?: The island nations to the west always seemed fascinating, but, given the opportunity, I would happily tour Yuri’s home.
How Do You Want to Die?: Loved.
Been To the Mall Lately?: I can’t say as I have.
Do You Like Thunderstorms?: Sometimes.
Get Along With Your Parents?: It has been too long since I have seen my father, but I left home with his blessing.
Health Freak?: I keep myself in as good health as I can.
Do You Think You’re Attractive?: I don’t believe I am ugly.

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF
Want to go to College?: Not particularly.
Do you Smoke?: Often.
Do you Drink?: Not now, no.
Shower Daily?: The stereotypically grimy southerner is just that, a stereotype.
Been in Love?: I have.
Do you Sing?: I do not make a habit of it.
Want to get Married?: Not as such, no.
Do you want Children?: One day.
Have your future kids names planned out?: If I had a daughter, she would have my mother’s name.
Hate anyone?: Not as much as I used to.
If There Is Someone You Love, Who Is It?: I love my sister, and my father, and sometimes, begrudgingly, I am fond of Mercutio.

I hope that I’ll be able to post a few more things like this until I can get the story going again. If you have questions or comments or want to see something in particular for an Extras Day, feel free to leave a comment! I promise I don’t bite. >.>

Other Interviews: Yuri

So it is with an extremely heavy heart that I say I am putting Three on hiatus. Hopefully things will settle out in the very near future and I will be able to resume regular updates sometime in May. I am very, very sorry that it had to come to this.

BASICS
Name: Yuri Kitazawa (Dad doesn’t write his name the Japanese way, and neither do I.)
Birthdate: March 8
Birth Place: Atlanta, GA (I’ve moved around a lot, though; Dad did a lot of contract work.)
Current Location: Technically, I live in Maryland now, but I’m prone to… um, wandering. Yeah, let’s go with “wandering.”
Eye Color: Green.
Hair Color: Purple with some black streaks. I swear it’s natural!
Height: 5′4″ Tall enough to not be too short, but short enough that I can’t reach anything. :/
Weight: About a buck and some change.
Piercing: Nah. I got my ears pierced once, but they closed and I never bothered to do it again.
Tattoos: Nope. Maybe one day, but I doubt it.
Boyfriend/Girlfriend: Umm… not really. But there is someone I like a lot. Does that count?
Overused Phrase: Arguably “jerkface,” but he really deserves it sometimes. :P

FAVORITES
Food: I like “Italian” food. I know it’s not really Italian food, but stuff like lasagna or pasta or pepperoni rolls just makes me happy. :)
Candy: Rock candy, hands down. What’s not to love about colored, crystallized sugar? :D
Number: I’ve always liked the number three. No real reason for it.
Color: Purples, especially dark jewel-tones.
Animal: Bunnies. But I’m not that big into animals to begin with.
Drink: I like root beer.
Alcohol Drink: I don’t drink that much (I know, I know, I’m lame). When I do, I mostly like sissy drinks. :B
Bagel: Plain with some jam, I guess?
Letter: That’s kinda a weird question. Um. X? I dunno.
Body Part on Opposite Sex: Um. No. Moving on. -_-

THIS OR THAT
Pepsi or Coke: I’d rather go thirsty, thanks. :P
McDonald’s or Burger King: Burger King. BK fries beat Micky D’s fries hands down.
Strawberry or Watermelon: Strawberry.
Hot Tea or Iced Tea: I spent most of my life in the southern US, so I’m gonna have to go with iced tea. Sorry. :B
Chocolate or Vanilla: Vanilla. I know, I continue to be lame.
Hot Chocolate or Coffee: Mocha! :D
Kiss or Hug: Who’s asking? >.>
Dog or Cat: They both have their strong points and their annoyances. I dunno. Let’s go with dogs for now.
Rap or Punk: I’ll go hide in a corner with my 80’s music, thanks. :P
Summer or Winter: I like winter. Being able to bundle up and have hot cocoa is pretty awesome.
Movies or Funny Movies: Um, what? I think somebody wasn’t paying attention when writing these questions. :P
Love or Money: Love please.

YOUR…
Bedtime: Don’t really have one now that I’m out of school. I try to be in bed by 11 most nights, though.
Most Missed Memory: This one time, when my Dad was working in Oak Ridge, TN, we went out to this really cool coffee house in Knoxville. I don’t remember how old I was, maybe seven or eight? But I just loved the place. I wish I could go back there with Dad again sometime.
Best Physical Feature: Uhh… I dunno. I guess I have nice legs?
First Thought Waking Up: It usually involves four-letter words and rolling over to sleep for five more minutes. :P
Goal For This Year: Get a handle on my crazy life. :P
Best Friend: REESEY! :D (Even if her initials DO spell something, haha.)
Weakness: Purple kryptonite? I don’t know. I don’t like it when people I love are hurting, but I mean, who does?
Fears: Umm… Well, I’m afraid of dying, like most people. I don’t like heights that much, and I’m not that great with fire sometimes, either.
Heritage: Japanese/??? (No one knows who/what my father is/was, but I’ve heard rumors that he might’ve been some Scandinavian guy or something.)
Longest relationship: I’m not that great with relationships, just letting you know. :P

HAVE YOU…
Ever Drank: Yeah. Not sure what all the fuss is about, but I’ve done it.
Ever Smoked: Yes.
Pot: Does contact high at a concert count? :P
Ever Been Drunk: Not really. I usually stop just past tipsy, ‘cuz it stops being fun after that.
Ever Been Beaten Up: Nah. I have gotten into a couple of slap fights, but that really doesn’t count. :P
Ever Beaten Someone Up: See above.
Ever Shoplifted: I stole a tootsie pop once when I was little, but I’m pretty sure it was an accident.
Ever Skinny Dipped: No.
Ever Kissed Opposite Sex: Yes. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
Been Dumped Lately: Naw. Last time I got dumped was like, a year ago. And it was kinda mutual anyway. (He did the dumping, but I wasn’t surprised or upset about it.)

IN A GUY/GIRL:
Favorite Eye Color: Hmm… Gonna have to go with violet on this one. >.>
Favorite Hair Color: Not blue. :P
Short or Long: No preference.
Height: I admit it, I’m a sucker for short guys. Tall guys don’t intimidate me, but I feel better when I don’t have to get a crick in my neck to stare into his eyes.
Style: What is this question even supposed to mean? Is it hair style or clothing style or what? :P
Looks or Personality: If it’s an either-or thing, I would have to go with personality. I don’t care if you’re pretty, if I can’t stand you, I can’t stand you. But realistically I’d like someone with a great personality who I’m also attracted to, y’know? :/ Not asking for rock star looks, but I don’t want to have to put a bag on his head.
Drugs and Alcohol: Drug use is a turn-off, sorry.
Muscular or Really Skinny: I’m not a big fan of huge muscles.
Who Is the Guy or Girl You Wish You Were With Right Now?: That’d be telling. :P

RANDOMS
Number of Regrets in the Past: I think I’m a little young to be dwelling on my regrets. :P
What Country/World Do You Want to Visit?: Haha!
How Do You Want to Die?: Painlessly in my sleep after a long and fulfilling life.
Been To the Mall Lately?: Not recently, no. :(
Do You Like Thunderstorms?: No sir, I don’t like ‘em.
Get Along With Your Parents?: I love my ‘rents a lot, and I know they love me, but I really don’t think they understand me anymore. :(
Health Freak?: Nope. I loves me some pork rinds! :B
Do You Think You’re Attractive?: I’m cute enough.

BELIEVE IN YOURSELF
Want to go to College?: I don’t know. I’d like to, but we’ll just have to see where life takes me.
Do you Smoke?: Sometimes… :/ (I hope my parents aren’t going to see this…)
Do you Drink?: Not often.
Shower Daily?: If at all possible. I hate feeling dirty and gross.
Been in Love?: Maybe.
Do you Sing?: Poorly! :D
Want to get Married?: Well, sure, but goodness only knows when/if it’ll happen.
Do you want Children?: All signs point to “no,” but I’m young, so maybe that’ll change.
Have your future kids names planned out?: Psh. No.
Hate anyone?: I dislike a lot of people. :/
If There Is Someone You Love, Who Is It?: That would also be telling. :P

Hopefully that was fun and informative. If you have questions or comments or want to see something in particular for an Extras Day, feel free to leave a comment! I promise I don’t bite. >.>

Other Interviews: Len

“I believe you,” Reese said, slotting her declaration forcefully into the silence left while Yuri gathered her thoughts. “Stop picking at split ends you don’t have,” she continued. “I mean it, chicka, relax. I believe you.”

Equal parts chagrined and surprised, Yuri dropped the strands of black hair she’d been worrying at with shaky fingers. “Sorry,” she muttered. “This is… it’s pretty hard for me.”

Reese nodded, pushing her lone tuft of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I can see that,” she said, “and that’s pro’lly the biggest reason I don’t think you’re yankin’ my chain. Don’t get me wrong, what you’ve been telling me is pretty out there, but I don’t think you’re lying to me. Doesn’t leave me any choice but to go ahead and trust that you’re telling me the truth as you see it.”

“I could always quote Shakespeare at you,” Yuri offered, trying her best to smile even though she knew it wouldn’t reach her eyes.

“I think you’ve done enough talking for now, chicka,” Reese said. “It’s almost five o’clock. I vote we take a break, get some food, and then maybe I’ll tell you a little bit about what’s been going on with me for a bit.” She stood, stretched, and offered Yuri a hand. “C’mon.”

Yuri accepted Reese’s aid, leaning against her as she got to her feet. “I’m not really hungry,” she said.

“Well, I’m making you eat anyway,” Reese replied. She grabbed a wallet and set of keys off a shelf near the door, as well as a black pack of clove cigarettes and a lighter. “You look like you haven’t had a good meal in years, sweetie.” She shoved everything into one of the many pockets of her low-slung cargo pants. “I’m taking you to Ledo, and that’s that. I’ll help you pull your bike in.”

Once Yuri’s bike rested safely against the wall near the window, Reese shoved Yuri out the door. “So, I have another confession to make,” she said sheepishly as she locked the door behind them.

“What’s that?” Despite herself, Yuri had resumed picking at the ends of a few stray strands of hair.

Reese fished around in her pocket until she produced the lighter she’d palmed and a cigarette. “You’re doing it again, stop it,” she snapped, cupping the lighter with one hand and flicking it with the other.

Again, Yuri dropped the hair between her fingers. “Sorry. It’s… bad habit, yeah. Hey, when did you start smoking?”

Reese inhaled deeply, causing the cherry at the end of the cigarette to flare. “Mmm, about six months,” she said. Smoke chased her words, swirling through the air and away on a breeze. “I was stressed, it was there. Not much of an excuse, I guess.”

Yuri made ‘gimme’ motions with one hand and took a long drag off the cigarette once Reese passed it to her. “Six months, huh? Yeah, sounds about right.” She passed the clove back and leaned against the white plastic railing that guarded the wooden walkway to the second story apartments.

“So you, too,” Reese said, bumping her shoulder against Yuri’s as she leaned on the railing next to her. She held the clove in a ham-fisted grip as she let her arms dangle over the side. “I wanna ask you what happened,” she continued, “’cause it seems like things were pretty cool at first, but I told you that we were gonna let you have a break.”

“It’ll take me a while to get it all out,” Yuri said. She cast her eyes downward, studying their hands in the warm light of the early evening. She saw Reese bump her arm more than she felt it, and she gratefully accepted the cigarette that had been offered. “I know I didn’t make this up, but telling you about it, I feel like it’s made up. It’s like these things didn’t happen, like they didn’t happen to me. Sometimes, even when it’s only me, I just keep having to tell myself, ‘This is real. These things happened.’ But it’s hard.”

She heard Reese fishing out and lighting another clove. “Life’s weird,” Reese declared with a puff of smoke. “I mean, we just never know what’s gonna happen, who it’s gonna happen to.”

They stood together, shoulder to shoulder in silence, for a few minutes, periodically ashing over the railing and failing to blow smoke rings into the distance.

*

It took less than ten minutes for them to drive to Ledo Pizza in Reese’s tiny Toyota. Once they’d seated themselves and placed drink orders, Reese dragged Yuri outside with a paper menu and lit up another clove cigarette. After inhaling deeply, she passed it to Yuri. “This was the ‘peace offering’ Lexi made me. This was way back, though, before I moved out, like right after he and Matt started their thing.”

Yuri took a long drag off the clove, holding the smoke in as long as she could stand before exhaling. Her hand shook as she passed it back, leaving a smudge of ash on the toe of Reese’s green Converse shoe. “So how did that go?” she asked, her voice thankfully much steadier than her hand.

Reese snorted. “‘Awkward’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. It felt like he was some skeevy dude trying to audition for the part of my dad or something. It was kind of awful, but it makes me snicker when I think about it now.” She shrugged and pushed her hair behind her ear again. “When he offered to take me out to lunch again, I figured, ‘What the hell, why not?’ It was free food, y’know, stupid as that is.”

“Free food is a good motivator,” Yuri said. “You guys wouldn’t be living in the apartment if it hadn’t been for pizza. I can’t blame you for taking advantage of a couple of free meals.”

“Free meals TINSTAAFL aside,” Reese said.

“All things considered, I think TINSTAAFL totally applies,” Yuri said, lips quirking up in a sardonic smirk. “I mean, you have to share a bathroom with him now; I’ve seen his hair products.”

“Well, yeah, I know that now,” said Reese with a chuckle. “But anyway, yeah, it was really weird at first. Like I said, almost skeevy. After the second one, he asked me for a third, and I started getting to know him.” She paused to take another drag, and passed he cigarette to her friend. “We just kept going like that, I think he musta blown like, a hundred dollars on lunch for me over a couple of weeks. I started talking to him, in between stuffing my face.”

Yuri scooted closer, leaning her forehead against Reese’s bare shoulder. The smoke from the cigarette laced through her fingers, and she noted that it was significantly shorter than she felt it had any right to be. She took the last vicious drag from it and dropped it to the concrete at their feet. Her friend crushed it beneath one heel, grinding to be sure there was no spark left.

“So, I started telling him about me and Mom for some reason,” Reese continued, draping an arm around Yuri’s shoulders and leading her back inside to their table. “I dunno, I guess I felt like after all the money he threw at my stomach I owed him something. Not that he ever acted like it, I just felt bad not talking to him since he was buyin’ me food. And so we’re sitting in the food court at St. Charles Town Center mall, and I’m spilling my guts and suddenly I just start bawlin’, y’know?”

They reclaimed their booth and sat down simultaneously, Yuri tucking both of her feet underneath herself, and Reese splaying her legs out under the table. Their waitress drifted back to their table and set out their drinks and some silverware. “What can I getcha?” she asked in a thick southern drawl. When Yuri gave her the briefest of nods, Reese rattled off their orders: baked cheese fries, a Caesar salad, two strombolis, and a single plate of lasagna. The waitress scribbled a few scrawls onto the pad that dangled loosely from her hands and sauntered off without another word.

Despite herself, Yuri couldn’t help smiling. A feeling of relief washed over her, and a knot in the pit of her stomach loosened; she squared her shoulders and sat a little straighter. “I guess it’s a good sign that after all this time, you can still order for the both of us when we get food. So, anyway, you were spilling your guts and started bawling?”

“Right,” Reese continued, “in the middle of the food court! And so he just gets up and just hugs me and pats my hair till I stop, ’cause this was back when Mom wouldn’t let me shave it. That was the first time I felt like maybe someone other than you gave a rat’s ass about how I felt, and it was the first time I got a good whiff of how he smelled.” The hints of a wistful smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she talked, and Yuri felt a stab of empathy with her friend. “He smelled like cloves and Old Spice.

“Anyway, after that, we had a little truce going. Or maybe a ‘time share,’ I dunno.” Reese shrugged and toyed with the straw in her Coke. “It was weird. I’d have Matt all to myself for a couple of days out of the week, then Lexi’d have him the rest of the time, and usually once or twice a week he’d get lunch or dinner for me. Sometimes it was just fast food, y’know, and sometimes he’d drive me down to someplace like Red Lobster, but most of the time, he’d give me a ride home after school or something and just make food.”

Yuri pulled her drink closer and began chewing on the straw while Reese talked. “Was it any good? The food he made, I mean?” she asked around her straw, hoping to encourage her friend to keep going.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Reese said, nodding emphatically enough that her hair fell back into her eyes. She grumbled and pushed it back behind her ear. “I haven’t made Lexi cook for you, have I? It’s insane. I don’t know why he’s in a band, he should be training to be a five star chef or something. Anyway, he was just so nice to me that I couldn’t keep hating him. Eventually, I was hanging out with him almost as much as I was hanging out with Matt. Then one day, you remember, the day Mom ‘kicked me out,’” Reese emphasized the phrase with air quotes and a sneer, “I was feeling really low, and he was there and… well…” She trailed off, averting her eyes and blushing.

Sensing where Reese had been taking the conversation, Yuri frowned, put her drink back on the table, and reached across to pat one of Reese’s hands. “I’m not judging you,” she stated firmly. “I promise you I won’t judge you or think badly of you or anything. Hey, look at me, c’mon. We’ve been friends for years, I’m not gonna think worse of you for telling me this.” She smirked. “You’d have to tell me you were a post-op Saddam Hussein before I’d start to question why I’m your friend.”

Reese snickered, trying to hide her embarrassment behind one hand; Yuri let her. “Some days I wonder about you, chicka. But that’s why we love each other, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Yuri said, patting Reese’s hand again. “So… what happened after that?”

“I pretended it didn’t happen for a little bit,” Reese said. Her fingers returned to toying with her straw. “I felt horrible. It lasted all of, like, two days. Finally I broke down and told Matt what happened.” She scowled, and Yuri patted her hand again. “Those were probably the worst days of my life. I always looked down on those so-called ‘best friends’ who went and messed around with their friend’s gal, y’know? And there I was, I’d just gone and done it.”

“I’d thought you were miserable because you were crashing on Lexi’s couch,” Yuri said. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, chicka,” said Reese, her expression brightening just a little. Yuri squeezed her hand across the table, and Reese squeezed back. “I was afraid of what you’d think, ’cause you know how I feel. And it worked out in the end. After day two, I couldn’t take it anymore, I cornered Matt after school and spilled my guts and begged him to forgive me. And that jackass just laughed! I mean, yeah, looking back on it now it’s kinda funny, but at the time it was just too much, and I practically beat him within an inch of his everlovin’ life.” She chuckled a little, and Yuri leaned back and resumed chewing on her straw.

“Well, okay, you know I’m not that type,” Reese admitted, “but I did sock him good on the arm a couple of times.” She shrugged. “The rest is just really boring and awkward. But that’s how it happened.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Yuri said with as much sincerity as she could put into her voice. It was true, she regretted being too wrapped up in her own problems to be a better friend.

“It was my own damn fault,” said Reese with another shrug. “I could’ve said something, but I didn’t. Can’t really blame you for that.” She grinned. “Hey, lighten up, here comes food.”

Sure enough, their indolent waitress returned bearing a large tray with their order on it. With little more than a lazy, “Here ya go, hon,” she shifted their plates from her tray to the table and sauntered off. Reese’s grin grew wider, and she made a production of breathing deeply of the steamy vapors wafting up from their meals. Yuri grinned, too, as she watched Reese start tearing apart a stromboli across from her.

Yuri began picking at the cheese fries, humming thoughtfully to herself. “This is good,” she declared, though she wasn’t entirely sure if she was referring to the fries or something else entirely.

“Yup,” agreed Reese around a mouthful of lasagna.

*

They returned to the apartment with a pair of take-home boxes, sated and cheerful. Once the leftovers had been safely tucked away in the refrigerator, Reese pulled Yuri down onto a beanbag chair with her and hugged her fiercely. Bemused, Yuri returned the hug as best she could from her awkward position in Reese’s lap.

“You feelin’ better, chicka?” Reese asked.

“Yeah,” Yuri said. “Yeah, I am. Thanks.”

Chapter Nine – Chapter Ten

I’ve put a lot of love and effort into making the world of Adan as real a place as I possibly can so that the characters have a rich setting in which to roam free. A lot of the things I’ve hammered out exist in the form of notes for my own reference which I can go back to periodically to make sure elements that show up in the story are consistent with each other. Unfortunately, it’s highly doubtful that Yuri (and therefor the narrative) will ever have any reason to learn most of these things. However, given the nature of this site, I can share some of it with you guys. None of this is necessary to understanding the story (hopefully; if it is, it will theoretically appear in the story itself), but it might be interesting to know or discuss.

One of the things that I’ve given a lot of thought to is names in Adani culture. A person’s name can give a lot of clues about their family and where they come from. For example: Ro sa’Surlan and Len sa’Vienne. Both of these names reflect a very common naming convention which has its roots in Adani’s pre-Illustran feudal period: their surnames denote where they were born. The prefix “sa” would roughly translate to “from” or “of,” and it tells anyone introduced to them that Ro and Len are from the provinces of Surlan and Vienne respectively. In some cases, depending on the area, the surname may reflect a province, a town, or a local district. Most people also have names that we would associate with family names, and these often (but not always) make use of the prefixes “din” and “dor” (son [of] and daughter [of]). However, unless your family lineage has a direct impact on dealings with the person you are introducing yourself to, those are often just omitted.

Related to this is the name “san’Illustra.” Taken literally, it simply means “of/from Illustra,” the “san” being a form of the “sa” prefix. However, Illustra is not a place, but rather a deity. In this case, it is a name which is taken by those who devote their lives to Her service, and replaces any family name or surname the person might have had before to show that the Church is the only affiliation that matters.

In all of this, Mercutio Kellaras and Olivia Delegarde are somewhat special cases. The lack of the “sa(n)” prefix indicates that both of these individuals are from noble houses. Often, family lines were elevated to nobility by a ruler based on valorous acts in service of the kingdom. The person who performed the act would become the proginitor of the new house, and the house would carry their name. Therefore, at some point in the past, one of Mer’s ancestors performed a service for a ruler and was dubbed Kellaras Kellaras. With the full unification of Adan under the Illustran theocracy, it is relatively rare to see new noble houses formed.

Anyway, I hope that this was at least a moderately interesting post. If there are any questions, comments, or suggestions for future Extras Days, please feel free to comment!

“I can’t believe I haven’t gotten the chance to berate you sooner,” Mer said as the five of them settled into the plush coach. He had claimed one window seat, with Kiih claiming the one on the far end of the bench, and Ro had settled between them. “Seriously, a real live Worldwalker and you just failed to mention it to me until after she’d left! I’m hurt, really I am.”

On the bench next to Yuri, Len rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She is sitting across from you, Mercutio.”

“Which is fantastic,” Mer said, gesturing widely. “But the point isn’t so much about Miss Yuri’s presence– no offense meant– as it is the fact that Ro should’ve said something to me sooner.”

“Well, to be fair, he didn’t know until just before I went home,” Yuri offered, fidgeting with one of the laces on the cuff of her shirt.

Mer sighed. “You’re right, and it really isn’t that bad since you’re here now.” He grinned and leaned forward. “So, tell me, what’s it like where you come from? Len mentioned a little bit of history you shared with him, but now that you don’t have someone dragging you off, I’d love to hear more.”

Yuri shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t know what to say. Adan is so weird to me, I don’t even have a point of reference.”

“Fair enough,” Mer said. “How about I ask you again after we’ve been around town and you’ve got a better idea of what Nachtlin’s like?”

“Sure,” Yuri said. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Indeed, babysitting a foreigner is exactly what I dreamed of doing today,” Kiih grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering out the window.

“Seriously, what is your problem?” Yuri asked. She found herself mirroring his pose, crossing her arms and glaring at him petulantly. “I’m here under my own power, I’m not asking you to take care of me, and I’d rather spend my afternoon with Len and Mer anyway.”

Before Kiih could respond, Ro raised his hands in a placating gesture that caused Kiih to snort and turn away. “Please, Miss Yuri, try no’ to be too hard on him,” he said. “Festival season’s rough on us is all. Iffin ya’re ’round after tha worst, we’ll be less… um…”

Chewing viciously on her tongue so she wouldn’t jump in with a suggestion she’d regret, Yuri shrugged. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I’ll try to stay till after things settle down,” she finally said. “But I don’t want to be a burden or anything. I definitely don’t want to be a bother to you.”

“That’s a relief,” he said, tone dripping with so much sarcasm that Yuri had to fight the urge to wipe her hands on the shirt she’d borrowed.

“Seriously, why are you being such a jerkface?” she snapped in response. “Trespassing, okay, I can totally see that, now that I’m not so confused, but come on, we’re trying to be nice here.”

Kiih shifted, straightening his spine and narrowing his eyes further. “What you fail to understand is that I have a job. I do that job well, by my estimation, but when annoyances and distractions, such as this Festival affair and your unfortunate fall into my garden, keep me from fulfilling my duty, I fail to see where I should be the least bit cheerful about any of it.”

“Bah, don’t mind him,” Mer said, waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s talk about something more interesting.”

“Oh, I have a question,” Yuri said. “Since I’m not hallucinating and I’m not dead, how do I understand what you guys are saying? I speak English and a tiny bit of Japanese, and I’m told you guys speak High Adani. How’s that work?”

A cheeky grin worked its way onto Mer’s face, and he leaned toward Yuri, resting his elbows on his thighs. “I’ve heard a few theories on that, but I never thought I’d get the chance to actually test anything.” Somehow, his grin managed to widen. “So, right now, it seems like I’m speaking your native language, right?”

Hesitantly, Yuri nodded. “Yeah… where are you going with this?”

“Just humor me for a few moments.” Mer cleared his throat. “Tell me, does it still seem as though I speak with your tongue?”

“Yeah…”

Again, he cleared his throat. “And now it seems as if I speak your language?”

Yuri nodded again. “Still sounds like English to me.”

By this time, Kiih and Len were both staring at Mer as though he’d begun speaking in tongues. “What in the world are you doing, Mercutio?” Len asked.

“Just making sure Miss Yuri’s understanding wasn’t limited to just High Adani,” Mer replied as though his answer should have been self-evident. “Now, what I’ve been reading suggests that once a Worldwalker comes into his or her abilities, they change. Instead of hearing what people are saying, somehow their minds start to hear what people mean to say. Granted, there isn’t any way for us to be totally certain, but that’s what it seems like.”

“But I can’t read anything,” Yuri pointed out. “Everything just looks like lines to me.”

“Tha’s ’cause there’s no’ a person’s mind to catch a meanin’ off of,” Ro said slowly, eyes lighting up with comprehension. “I see. No’ tha’ words in print have no meanin’, there’s just no person to read their meanin’ from. Oh, d’ya think tha’ if someone closed their head tha’ she couldn’t unnerstand ‘em?”

Yuri turned to Len, a feeling of intense awkwardness making her fidget uncomfortably on the bench. “I’m really not sure what they’re talking about,” she said quietly. “Do they do this a lot?”

“Quite often,” Len replied. “Mercutio is a bit of a scholar, even if he doesn’t look like one, and Ro is not the sort of person to pass up a good conversation. I think he might be becoming a scholar himself in self-defense.”

Across from them, Kiih snorted but said nothing.

*

While the spires that comprised the Cathedral were the geographical center of Nachtlin, it quickly became apparent that the bazaar to the northwest of it was the real heart of the city. As the academic conversation raged on, Yuri scooted closer to the window and parted the velvet curtains in order to take in the sights she’d missed by being lost and miserable. Eventually, Len slid closer and began pointing out various things as they rolled past.

“It is such a shame that we are not coming from another direction,” Len said quietly. “There are much more interesting things to see, like the botanical gardens that are kept for the High Consulate, or the fountain built to honor the kings and queens who became the first Consulates.”

“If Miss Yuri stays,” Kiih said from across the cabin, keeping his voice low, “then there is no reason why you can’t tour the sights at your leisure once Festival starts.”

“Are you offering?” asked Yuri.

Kiih snorted (something Yuri noticed that he did often) and shook his head. “Gods no, but I almost wish I could. I loathe Festival season with every fiber of my being, and if I could use a guest as an excuse to abdicate my duties, I would do so.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, as absolutely fascinating as your realm of origin may be, you do not possess enough standing to get me out of this.”

For a moment, Yuri was incensed, but then a thought struck her. “Did you just… make a peace offering?”

“It was brought to my attention that I may have been uncharitable due to the time of year,” Kiih replied, his tone even and low. “I am not, by nature, a charitable person. In fact, I am often a very irritable and cantankerous old man, but most of my barbs are not intended to be…” He paused, pursing his lips thoughtfully before finally saying, “They are not personal affronts.”

“That is probably the nicest I’ve ever heard you be,” Len stated with bemused astonishment written clearly on his face.

“I’m an irritable and cantankerous old man,” Kiih repeated as he spread his hands in a ‘what can you do’ gesture.

Yuri let the drape fall closed and turned so she might face Kiih; she hadn’t really been paying much attention to the scenery since he began speaking, anyway. “So what’s so terrible about Festival season that it makes you so… ‘uncharitable?’”

“Festival is the most important Adani holiday,” replied Kiih. “Everyone in Illustra’s service, from the smallest altar-keepers who polish incense burners to the highest priests and seers are expected to don church finery and trot it out for all to see.” By the end of his statement, his lips had curled up slightly in a vaguely disgusted snarl. “It’s a hassle and a bother which I feel has no bearing on my other duties, and I fail to see why I should be forced to participate in the dogmatic farce when there are other things that need my attention.”

“I see,” said Yuri, even though she felt a little more confused than she’d begun. “So that means you’re a priest?”

Almost in unison, Len and Kiih both let out sharp barks of laughter, though Kiih’s was decidedly sharper. Mer and Ro both paused in their discussion to warily eye the rest of the occupants of the carriage. When no one offered an explanation, they returned to their conversation, and Kiih rolled his eyes.

“He is most certainly not a priest,” Len said, trying and failing to suppress a snicker.

Across from them, Kiih opened his mouth, presumably to deliver a snappy retort, but Mer interrupted him. “I do believe we have arrived,” he said, hopping off the bench and opening the carriage door nearest Yuri. “Welcome to Nachtlin’s bazaar, Miss Yuri!”

“Please, you guys don’t have to call me ‘miss,’” Yuri said, smoothing down her shirt as she slid off the bench. “It makes me feel like I’m… I dunno…”

“An honored guest, mayhaps?” Mer supplied readily, eyes twinkling. “All right, fair enough. We’ve arrived! Please, ladies and honored guests first, Yuri.”

“Sure, put me on the spot,” she muttered with a shake of her head. Cautiously, she stepped out the carriage door and took a deep breath.

As soon as she left the confines of the cabin, all manners of sensation bombarded her senses. A warm breeze brought the sharp tang of salt water laced with a multitude of scents she could only assume belonged to any number of Adani foodstuffs being roasted or baked or fried nearby. She heard an ocean in the distance, the lapping of waves serving as a subtle heartbeat for the laughter, shouting, and general hub-bub that apparently characterized business in the bazaar.

The sights were what struck her the most, though. Laid out before her was a grand plaza that stretched for half a mile on all sides, at her best guess, which was teeming with colors and fabrics and people. Colorful streamers waved joyfully in the wind, drawing attention to vendors’ stalls or covered wagons. People of all shapes, sizes, and colors milled about, chatting, trading, spreading gossip, working. Near the center of the plaza, a large group of people in white and blue robes scurried madly around a wooden platform not unlike a stage upon which stood someone Yuri could only assume was their overseer.

Behind her, Kiih disembarked. “The swarm has already descended,” he grumbled, unlacing his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “This will not be pleasant.”

“What won’t be?” Yuri asked, though she didn’t really expect an answer when he brushed past her.

For a moment, he ignored her as she trailed behind him, but finally he paused and pointed at the stage before them. “That writhing mass up ahead is largely composed of people who mistakenly believe themselves to be my superiors. I must navigate my way through them without offending them, acquire my assignments and garb for this season, and make as clean a break from them as possible without being saddled with their own dirty work.” He turned to face her, his expression pinched. “I advise you to keep quiet, do not speak unless spoken to, and should anyone ask, you are a friend of a friend, visiting from Vienne for the season. Anything more and Len or I will address whoever wishes to know.”

From behind her, she heard Len say, “Of course; she is the child of a good friend of my family, come to visit me.” Kiih nodded his brusque approval.

As they neared the stage, Yuri could see more clearly the central figure apparently in charge of it all: a slender woman of moderately short height in a white robe that put Yuri in mind of a Korean hanbok, but less colorful. Her dark hair, like Kiih’s, had been braided and pulled up at the top of her head, but the style was far more elaborate, and it was accented by more gold beads and pins than Yuri could reliably count from a distance.

When she caught sight of the group headed toward her, she smiled and began waving at them wildly. When she opened her mouth to shout, “Why, Kiih san’Illustra, what a pleasure to see you!” Yuri realized that she was not looking at a slender woman at all but, in fact, the prettiest man she’d ever seen.

The man hopped off the stage and deftly maneuvered through the crowed to greet them personally. Without waiting for an invitation, he grabbed Kiih’s hand and shook it vigorously. “I was beginning to think that you weren’t going to make it. Oh, and you brought guests!” His wide brown eyes swept over their party quickly, and his smile widened. “Ro, a pleasure as always! And Mercutio Kellaras, so good to see you, but whatever are you doing with this scoundrel? And who are these two charming people?”

Mer, who had been lagging at the rear of their group with Ro, sauntered forward and shook the man’s hand. “You know, I think I associate with him just to see how long it will take him to keel over. The short gentleman with the profusion of jewelry is my hired man, Len sa’Vienne, and that fetching young woman next to him is his friend, Yuri.”

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you both,” he said, shaking Len’s hand and politely raising Yuri’s hand to his lips. “I’m Mahir san’Illustra, the current proprietor of this monstrosity.” He gestured vaguely at the goings on behind him.

“I’m not here to indulge in pleasantries, Mahir,” Kiih said, the corners of his mouth tight. “I merely wish to escape with my garb, my assignments, and– hopefully– my dignity as soon as possible.”

Mahir nodded knowingly, and ushered them a little farther from the stage and the commotion surrounding it. “I have a feeling that someone on-high doesn’t particularly care for you. You were assigned a sword-dancer role this year, and it’s only come to my attention in the past two days.” He smirked crookedly, an expression that looked a little odd on his delicate, youthful face. “If you like, I’ll just have your garments delivered to your domicile; I understand you have a lot of work ahead of you?”

Kiih snorted. “You haven’t been doing this very long, have you? That is typically the role I occupy, assuming I haven’t irked anyone lately. What of my vigil duties?”

“You and I are going to be Silaelin’s ushers for the duration,” Mahir stated. “I have it on good authority that she loves pretty things, which I can only assume is why we were chosen.”

“Of course,” Kiih said, expression souring. “I suppose that’s all I need, if you’re willing to have my garb delivered.”

“Certainly,” said Mahir. “I’ll let you get back to entertaining your guests.”

Again, Kiih snorted. “Entertaining. Of course.”

Ignoring his attitude, Mahir turned to Len and Yuri. “It was a pleasure to meet the both of you. If you’ve got the time after the vigil, I’d love to join you all in the celebrations. Mercutio owes me a handful of drinks, as I recall.”

“It was a genuine accident,” Mer said, raising his hands in protest. “The fraug was strong and the floor was comfortable, it couldn’t have been helped.”

Mahir chuckled. “Of course. You should probably leave, I think the natives are getting restless in my absence. If you want to leave with your dignity intact…” He trailed off and waggled his eyebrows at Kiih.

“Come on, then,” Kiih said, pivoting on his heel and striding purposefully in the direction of another large group of people. Mer and Ro both bid Mahir farewell before hurrying after him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand him,” Yuri said, shaking her head.

“That’s not an uncommon feeling,” Mahir said. “You’d better hurry, he looks like he’s intent on disappearing as quickly as possible.”

Len hooked an arm around Yuri’s shoulders and gently led her in the direction Kiih had gone. “It was nice to meet you,” he said to Mahir, who nodded and bowed low as they passed.

They caught up with Kiih and the others easily, Len making their presence known by a polite clearing of his throat. The stage and its mass of workers were completely obscured by the throng of people they’d buried themselves in, most of them jockeying for position in front of a stall that the merchant loudly proclaimed sold “only the finest authentic Viennese harpy jewelry.” Len shook his head at this pronouncement and whispered into her ear, “If any of these people had bothered to actually visit any of the southern cities, they would know that this man is peddling garbage.”

“People will buy what they like whether it’s actually ‘authentic’ or not,” Mer said over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t give me that look, I know that kind of thing sets you off. I don’t need good hearing to know what you were saying.”

Apparently feeling enough distance had been put between himself and Mahir, Kiih fell back a little, leaving Ro and Mer to head up their little group. “It seems that your presence was enough to keep me from a likely lengthy and embarrassing encounter. I don’t believe that Mahir would have let me leave so easily if it hadn’t been for your face.” He paused, obviously working over his next words before committing do them. “I will try to be a good host, at least for the rest of the day.”

“Th– thanks, I think,” Yuri said, taken aback. “Um, I could really use some shoes right about now, as lame and cliche as that sounds. I’d rather not get my toes broken in this crowd.”

Kiih glanced down at her feet, grimacing. “I suppose so,” he agreed. “I imagine you have no money?”

“Oh, no, Mer gave me twenty dynas before we left the shop,” Yuri said, “though I’m not really sure how much buying power that is. He said I could get a nice pair of shoes and a souvenir or two, though, so I guess it’s a bit more than twenty bucks where I come from.”

She stood on tip-toe and strained to see any signs indicating what nearby vendors sold over the heads of the crowd. What few signs she could glimpse were less than informative, being covered in script like that on the bills she had tucked in her shirt, or like the words engraved above Silaelin’s door: beautiful and completely indecipherable. “Ugh, I can’t read this.”

“Don’t worry. Since Len will be of no use, I know where there’s a perfectly serviceable cobbler at the northern end of the bazaar,” Kiih said. He let forth a short whistle, but gave no other indication to the pair of gentlemen ahead of them that he had changed his course.

The crowd thinned out a little further down, from a near-constant press of bodies to a relatively sedate ebb and flow of people. Rather than being forced between Kiih and Len, Yuri was able to walk abreast of them and get a better look at the clothing and features of the people around her. There was no unifying theme to the clothing she saw; some people wore simple shirts and pants in dusty earth tones, some people were dressed in a manner Yuri associated with business-casual, some people were dressed in three-piece suits like the one Kiih had worn when she first met him, and some peoples’ clothing defied her classification altogether.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a familiar pale almost-face. She turned, hand poised to flag him down and mouth already forming Corwyn’s name, when Kiih’s hand came down on her shoulder. “Come this way,” he whispered, bending down so that his lips were closer to her ear. “I don’t know why you were about to call out to that pale man, but I advise you to keep as far away from him as possible.”

Without another word, Kiih steered Yuri away from where she’d seen Corwyn, leaving Yuri to wonder, what in the world was that about?

Chapter Eight – Interlude

I’ll start off with something that dates back to around 1999-ish: the very first picture I ever drew of Yuri for this story. It’s from shortly before I started actually putting pen to paper on the very first version of the story (back when it was still a blatant anime rip-off, instead of just a kind-of anime rip-off). She and the story have both changed a lot since then, but it’s always good to remember one’s roots.

Next up is a sketch I did quite recently which involves Kiih and his current hair style. It’s not much, but it at least shows you sort of what I was thinking and hopefully gives you a little insight into why in the world he’s so cranky in chapter eight. >.>; The other face in the sketch is someone I don’t particularly want to name, but you guys will meet this person this week.

And speaking of sketches, here is a little sketchy portrait of Reese. I struggled with her character a lot over the course of the story, but she’s one of my favorites right now. I just love her to bits and wish she could get more screen time. Ah well.

Anyway, over on the extras page, there are several wallpapers, the first of which features this pin-up image of Yuri I did a while ago. Granted, this is a sort of speculative image, because Yuri is supposed to appear much older in it (and she totally doesn’t have any tattoos– yet), but I’m still really fond of it and can’t help showing it off.

And while on the subject of pin-ups I’ve drawn of Yuri, we have these two images that were both done relatively recently. The first image is the first in what is intended to be a series of cute lingerie pin-ups that, once I finish them, are intended to be viewed as a set. No particular reason for it other than I just felt like drawing Yuri in cute undies. The second is something that I did when I finally started coming out of an artistic funk. At the time, my hard drive (with all my work on it) had been eaten by a virus, and the chances of getting it back were slim-to-none, so I was pretty depressed and basically lost my will to create anything. Incidentally, this is also my avatar pretty much everywhere I go these days. >.>

There’s a whole bunch of other stuff in my dA gallery/scrapbook, but a lot of it involves things that are a bit on the spoiler-ific side. I hope that this art post has been at least marginally entertaining, and hopefully sometime soon I’ll have some fresh sketches to bring to the table between story posts. :)

Len greeted her with a grin, having changed into a pair of black slacks and a blue shirt to match the one Yuri wore. He had also donned all of the jewelry he’d taken from the dresser, which seemed to include multiple earrings, a couple of discrete silver rings on each hand, and at least one necklace that had been tucked into his shirt. “I’m glad that it fits,” he said. “Are you ready to go?”

Yuri nodded, absently checking the pajama pants thrown over one arm for the pendant Corwyn had given her. When she felt its reassuring weight in one of the pockets, she nodded brightly. “Yup. When’s the carriage gonna be here?”

“Mer said half an hour about half an hour ago,” Len replied, offering Yuri his arm. “While he may tend to be lazy if he has nothing scheduled, if he says something will happen at a certain time, it will happen at that time.”

“Oh, yeah,” Yuri said, sliding her arm into his. “Ro said that the first time I came here, I think.” With her free hand, she smoothed down her shirt and adjusted the kilt on her hips. “Anyway, you said something about a festival, right? What’s the occasion?”

Leading her down the narrow steps, Len nodded. “Yes, Nachtlin will be celebrating Festival at the end of the month. It’s the holiday that commemorates the trials of the Mother’s chosen ones as they fled across Adan to the Dark Coast and founded what would become this city.” He let her arm slide from his as he moved to open the front door for her. “For the first five days, it is customary to light candles in the windows of our dwellings,” he continued. “Once the vigil is over, we celebrate in the form of week-long festivities.”

Outside, Mer slouched in a chair, one booted foot propped on an adjacent table, one hand dangling almost to the wood of the deck, and the half-smoked cigarette he’d stubbed out between his lips. He had chosen to wear a pair of dark breeches tucked into knee-high leather boots and a white shirt the cut of which put Yuri in mind of a swashbuckler. “I’m guessing, based on what Ro and I talked about the last time we got to see you, that you haven’t partaken in Festival before,” Mer announced, using his other hand to light the stub.

“It’s true,” Yuri admitted, “but it seems pretty cool.”

“Oh, it is!” Mer agreed, hopping to his feet in a sudden burst of motion that somehow failed to knock over any of the furniture (though Yuri noted that the table wobbled just a little in his wake). His face lit up with a wide grin that made his brown eyes glitter. “Hey! Look at you, all dressed up. That old kilt looks so much better on you. We’ve got to get you some shoes, though. Len might like to leave his toes at the mercy of everyone else, but your feet are too cute to let them get dirty.”

He waved the hand that clutched the cigarette, leaving wide arcs of sweet smoke wafting through the air. “Anyway, I hope you’re staying for a while. The vigil starts in two days, and then Festival kicks off. Then it’s pretty much a week of wine, women, music, and a lot of other stuff that should probably interest me as a civic-minded individual, but who cares after the wine and the women?”

“I’ll be honest,” Yuri said, fighting not to redden, “I’m not really that interested in wine or women.”

Mer’s face fell, and he favored Yuri with a most stricken– and excruciatingly melodramatic– expression. “I am so sorry to hear that,” he said, his tone just as overly dramatic as his face. “I mean, a fine pair of breasts is probably–”

“That is quite enough, Mercutio,” Len interrupted, clearing his throat.

He glanced past Mer and into the street, which had become significantly more lively since Yuri had arrived. “Is that the carriage you called for?” he asked, an edge of scandalized horror creeping into his voice.

Yuri followed his gaze and saw a massive coach rolling inexorably toward the cafe. It was made of some sort of dark wood that was carved into intricate designs of vine-wrapped trees and large ferns gilt in gold. Thick green drapes shielded the passenger compartment from view, but the coach was large enough that Yuri estimated it could comfortably hold six broad and surly people. Of the driver, there was no sign, nor could she see exactly what sort of animals pulled it.

“Oh my Gods,” Len groaned, covering his face with the palm of his hand and shaking his head slowly. “It is the carriage you called for, isn’t it? Oh my Gods, are you thick? What, exactly, is discrete about that?” He gestured helplessly down the street.

“Come on, Len, you need to relax,” Mer said. “I just thought it’d be nice to go in comfort, and it’s not like we can’t afford it. Speaking of which, I know you’re new to the area, Miss Yuri, and I have planned ahead!” He lodged what remained of his cigarette in the corner of his mouth and patted himself down until he produced a wallet from which he drew a few bills. He extended them to Yuri. “This is twenty dynas. Not sure how much it’d be where you’re from, interplanar exchange rates being nonexistent and all, but it’s enough to get you some shoes and a couple of nice things at the bazaar.”

Hesitantly, Yuri took the bills and inspected them. A little larger than a dollar, they were a calming pastel blue with green and yellow accents and a large portrait of a fine-featured man of indeterminate age facing a segreant dragon like the ones she’d seen near the Cathedral. There was writing on it, a caption of some sort, she assumed, but it resembled little more than a few odd twists and curls. She deliberately folded the bills and reached into the neck of her shirt to lodge them under one breast in the not-terribly-supportive shelf bra built into her camisole. “Thank you,” she said a little awkwardly. “I don’t know when or if I’ll be able to pay you back, but I’ll try.”

Mer waved a hand dismissively, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it! Getting the opportunity to rub elbows with as distinguished a person as yourself is good enough for me. I just can’t wait to settle in and just pick your brain about where you come from!” He grinned widely. “Until then, I’d be a terrible host if I didn’t see to it that you’re comfortable. Besides, I can afford it every once in a while, despite what Mister Discreet over there thinks.”

Before Len could do much more than open his mouth to argue, the carriage drew parallel to the front of the cafe. The door on the side swung open of its own accord, exposing an incredibly opulent interior which Yuri guessed could in fact seat eight broad and surly occupants with ease. “All right, then, lock it up!” Mer said, jauntily tossing Len a set of keys over one shoulder and making a break for the carriage.

Len deftly snatched the keys out of the air, shaking his head and shuffling back to the door. Yuri heard two loud clicks which she assumed were the locks, then Len again flashed her a winning smile. “What’s done is done,” he said quietly to her, “so I suppose we really should just enjoy it. Shall we?”

Yuri returned Len’s smile, taking his arm and gamely falling into step beside him. “Sure!”

*

As it turned out, traveling between the house Kiih shared with Ro and the Sunset Cafe only took about ten minutes by coach. Yuri barely had enough time to pull the pendant out of her pocket, stow her pants under the plush bench, and settle into a window seat before the coach slid to a smooth stop and the door across from her swung open.

Mer jumped up and leaned out the door. “Ooh, looks like we’re in luck. I think they’re home!” He pulled himself back into the cabin and motioned at Yuri. “Ladies first, of course.”

“This will not take long,” Len said. “Why not wait here?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Mer replied cheerfully. “Come on, all ashore! If we’re lucky, we can probably con Ro into making Kiih make us something to eat.”

Yuri pushed herself reluctantly off her seat and stretched her legs. Gripping the bar next to the door, she hopped out of the coach as gracefully as she could manage. She heard a soft thump as Len disembarked, then Mer noisily clambering out next, followed by the sound of the carriage door latching shut.

Before Yuri had taken more than a handful of steps toward the cottage, the door burst open and Kiih strode out a look of mean determination on his face. A good portion of his hair had been caught up in small braids, like dreadlocks decorated with tiny golden beads, and most of it had been pinned into a loose knot at the top of his head before being allowed to flow freely down his back. His right hand rested easily on the hilt of a sword that hung from his left hip, and the ties to the cuffs of his shirt (which was cut much like the ones Len and Yuri wore) fluttered in the wake of his motion. “I swear to you,” he snarled, “if you don’t–”

“We love you too, Kiih!” Mer called jovially. “You going to invite us in?”

“Oh, for Mother’s sake!” Kiih cried, throwing his hands up in disgust. “What in the Gods’ names are you doing here?”

Both of Mer’s hands grasped Yuri’s shoulders and propelled her forward. “This fine young woman says that you have something of hers,” Mer replied when they were within easy speaking distance. “And I thought that it’d probably be good for Ro to get out of the house. I swear, I don’t know how he survives sequestered like this.”

Kiih merely rolled up his shirt sleeves and crossed his arms over his chest. “What I don’t understand is how a self-proclaimed linguistic genius such as yourself can possibly misconstrue the phrase ‘go hang yourself’ in as many ways as you do.” He sighed and turned to glare down at Yuri. “He’s talking about the shoulder bag you had with you, and that helmet?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she said, nodding brightly in an attempt to deflect Kiih’s bitterness. “I had some notebooks in there, and my cell phone, and I think I had a paperback book in there. At least if you can still call it a paperback with its covers taped on.”

“It started to make strange noises after a few days, so I gave it to Silaelin for safe-keeping,” Kiih said, his expression pinched. “If you want it, simply find her; I’m sure she will return it to you. You can leave now.”

“Not a chance,” Mer said indignantly. He hooked one arm around Yuri’s shoulders and dragged her forward, elbowing Kiih aside as they passed. “Hey, Ro, we’re breaking you out!” he hollered toward the cottage.

When Yuri saw Kiih’s hand drift back toward the hilt of his sword and grip it so firmly his knuckles went white, she balked. “You know, antagonizing the jerkface who’s standing there with a sword looking ready to chop us up really probably isn’t the greatest idea in the world,” she hissed at Mer through clenched teeth.

“Bah, he won’t kill me,” he replied easily, tugging on her shoulders until she reluctantly began dragging her feet again. “Oh, he’ll want to, but, for one thing, his job won’t let him, and, for another, Len won’t let him, and he knows it.”

By the time the thought to question Mer’s statement made it to her mouth, Ro appeared in the door, his red hair sticking out at odd angles. “Oy, ya three, stop makin’ a scene and come inside.” He squinted over Yuri’s shoulder, bringing into focus the lines underneath his eyes. “Oh, sorry Len,” he said finally, “di’n see ya there. Ya four. Inside, iffin ya don’t mind.”

Yuri turned to Kiih in time to see his expression go stony. “I would greatly appreciate it if you wouldn’t cut me off at the knees,” he said, his words clipped and angry. “We are here for a reason. More importantly, I am here for a reason.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with some meaning Yuri couldn’t grasp. Ro merely shrugged tiredly and motioned everyone inside. “I’ll get us some tea,” he continued, as though Kiih had said nothing. “Ya’re needed in town anyway, there’s no reason we shouldn’t go with Miss Yuri, Mer, and Len.”

Kiih’s shoulders slumped, his hand moving from his sword to instead rest on Mer’s shoulder. “I swear to you, I will end you one day,” he said, though Yuri heard more resignation in his tone than any actual rancor.

Mer nodded cheerfully in agreement. “It’s true, but not before we get well and drunk. I mean, so far gone that even you start slurring, and then you go for my throat and miss, and I get a rakish scar for your trouble.”

Kiih shook his head. “Let’s skip the tea and just get this over with.”

Chapter Seven – Chapter Nine