Summer 8th, 519
12th Bell
The Kelp Bar
"I need work," Anja summarized.
The dim lamp light of the Kelp Bar flickered bobbing shadows against the walls. The grungy surroundings would be off-putting for most; cracked, mismatched pieces of furniture, unfriendly stares from grizzled sea workers off the docks. But Anja had been used to it years ago, and it was simple enough to be used to it again. He and Logan had both agreed that it was as good a place as any to have conversations without the worry of interruption or inquisitive listening ears
Anja had tracked down Logan hours ago among a crowd of men from the Martial Society. The reunion had been heralded with shouts and embraces and over time the two had fallen into their familiar, companionable, mutual comfort. Old habits had reasserted themselves, and they had made their way to their old meeting place. Brittle stares had eased when the sailors dotting the bar recognized Logan, and Anja's presence had been quietly tolerated. Logan had bought both himself and Anja a kelp beer and they had settled on rickety seats in the lounge. Over the next few hours, Anja had told Logan everything that had happened during his time in Sunberth. Logan was quiet in his intensity and only rarely interrupted when he needed clarification on a point. After the telling had been completed, Anja's kelp beer remained untouched. Logan made no mention of it.
"Seems like the Homestead situation you're working on with your friends is comfortable," Logan said. The Knight was the same as he had been when Anja had left him a year ago. Calm, quiet, thoughtful and practical. He hadn't changed in the slightest. Anja wondered for a moment if he had. Logan hadn't said anything about it, but it wasn't like him to bring it up. "Do you really need a job in Zeltiva, Anja?" Logan asked, tenting his calloused hands. "Maybe you'd be better off working in the wilds with your friends."
"I'd like to have some mizas to bring home and help out the settlement," Anja replied. "Besides, I can't let my Spiritism go stale. If I'm not helping ghosts then what am I even doing here?"
A shadow crossed Logan's expression and he fixed Anja with one of his trademark, piercing stares. "I haven't had luck with the Nuit yet," he said with a slow shake of his head. "Now that you're back I'll start poking harder. If you make friends in the city we might be able to find a few more leads. You can leverage your magic to that end. I'm sure it'll help your new family out as well." He leaned back in his seat and it let out a treacherous groan. "I've heard whispers of the manor of a young lady that seems to be haunted. Strange noises and lights at odd hours, and she's become very reclusive. But she's been very hush-hush about it. Doesn't want to get the Envoys involved. I wonder why that is?"
Anja chewed his lip in thought, and after a moment shook his head. "I can't imagine…" Anja said.
Logan pushed his elbows against the table and leaned forward with his chin in his hands. "She must have a reason for not wanting help, but maybe your brand of help is exactly what she needs. You should go give her a visit, maybe she'll tell you an interesting story."
(Words 565, Total 565)
12th Bell
The Kelp Bar
"I need work," Anja summarized.
The dim lamp light of the Kelp Bar flickered bobbing shadows against the walls. The grungy surroundings would be off-putting for most; cracked, mismatched pieces of furniture, unfriendly stares from grizzled sea workers off the docks. But Anja had been used to it years ago, and it was simple enough to be used to it again. He and Logan had both agreed that it was as good a place as any to have conversations without the worry of interruption or inquisitive listening ears
Anja had tracked down Logan hours ago among a crowd of men from the Martial Society. The reunion had been heralded with shouts and embraces and over time the two had fallen into their familiar, companionable, mutual comfort. Old habits had reasserted themselves, and they had made their way to their old meeting place. Brittle stares had eased when the sailors dotting the bar recognized Logan, and Anja's presence had been quietly tolerated. Logan had bought both himself and Anja a kelp beer and they had settled on rickety seats in the lounge. Over the next few hours, Anja had told Logan everything that had happened during his time in Sunberth. Logan was quiet in his intensity and only rarely interrupted when he needed clarification on a point. After the telling had been completed, Anja's kelp beer remained untouched. Logan made no mention of it.
"Seems like the Homestead situation you're working on with your friends is comfortable," Logan said. The Knight was the same as he had been when Anja had left him a year ago. Calm, quiet, thoughtful and practical. He hadn't changed in the slightest. Anja wondered for a moment if he had. Logan hadn't said anything about it, but it wasn't like him to bring it up. "Do you really need a job in Zeltiva, Anja?" Logan asked, tenting his calloused hands. "Maybe you'd be better off working in the wilds with your friends."
"I'd like to have some mizas to bring home and help out the settlement," Anja replied. "Besides, I can't let my Spiritism go stale. If I'm not helping ghosts then what am I even doing here?"
A shadow crossed Logan's expression and he fixed Anja with one of his trademark, piercing stares. "I haven't had luck with the Nuit yet," he said with a slow shake of his head. "Now that you're back I'll start poking harder. If you make friends in the city we might be able to find a few more leads. You can leverage your magic to that end. I'm sure it'll help your new family out as well." He leaned back in his seat and it let out a treacherous groan. "I've heard whispers of the manor of a young lady that seems to be haunted. Strange noises and lights at odd hours, and she's become very reclusive. But she's been very hush-hush about it. Doesn't want to get the Envoys involved. I wonder why that is?"
Anja chewed his lip in thought, and after a moment shook his head. "I can't imagine…" Anja said.
Logan pushed his elbows against the table and leaned forward with his chin in his hands. "She must have a reason for not wanting help, but maybe your brand of help is exactly what she needs. You should go give her a visit, maybe she'll tell you an interesting story."
(Words 565, Total 565)