Insufficient Grounds (Zandelia)

[Lusa]

7th of Spring, 512

Lusa was ecstatic.

Every time she'd passed this particular stall in the market, she'd detected the most amazing smell. For days she had come back over and over, just to catch a whiff of it; toasty, strong, and smooth, it tantalized her small nose and made her mouth water. For the life of her, she swore she'd never smelled anything better. She had gotten close enough to determine that the smell came from a pile of small, very dark, bean-like things. To Lusa, they looked a bit like rabbit droppings, but of course they couldn't be. When she'd tentatively asked the stall's proprietor what they were, he'd gruffly informed her that they were "coffee beans."

So, she'd asked him how much. At fifty mizas a pound, they were outrageously expensive, but she had to have them. She purchased four ounces, handing over twelve mizas from her pouch. After he handed them over, she brought them close to her face, inhaling deeply. Heavenly!

She made to pop one into her mouth, but the coffee-man stopped her, explaining that they were not for eating, but for drinking! Fascinating! He offered to brew her a cup for an extra silver. Lusa readily complied, and stood a bit to the side, eagerly shifting back and forth. After what seemed like ages, he handed her a small cup, piping hot and filled with liquid even more fragrant than the beans had been. Lusa had the foresight to blow a little stream of air over the top of the cup, cooling it.

This was it. This moment would surely change her life forever. Lusa brought the cup to her pink lips, and took a deep sip.

She then promptly spit it out. "UGH! W-what?! This...this is AWFUL!"

[Zandelia]

Zandelia was walking the streets, the beginnings of a new fire within her heart licking at the kindling of the purest of all things – vengeance. She could not help but feel a small pang of guilt for the fact that she had abandoned the other Crimson Edge members in favor of her roaming. They had all signed the contract, as close to with their own blood without actually slicing open their palms, and work had to be put at the forefront of consideration. Zandelia however, was no master builder and she had been frank in her stating that she would be next to useless until the site had been fully cleared and work was ready to begin in earnest. She was no giant warrior to lift massive timbers. She was a woman of the mind and her skill were put to use in other ways.

As in maintaining a semblance of knowledge and flow of information throughout this degraded cess pit of a city she thought to herself as she tailed a group that was growing larger by the second.

Witch hunts had begun to infect Sunberth now, cold and calculating in whom they targeted. She was beginning to think there was an invisible hand at work in their creation, however she had no proof and only suspicions. There were certainly motivators for them, such as money from deceased relatives or elimination of one’s competition. She had noted how throngs were usually slow to gather, splinter groups merging into larger ones until the mob rampaged – directed usually by a few select ‘leaders’. One such group she followed now, keeping a relatively safe distance from them but never letting them out of her sight. She was still within audible distance and listened to their conversation with intrigue.

“Yeah, but we can’t just do that can we?”

“Why not? People think she’s a bit of a freak anyway”

“Wouldn’t be hard to pull off convincingly. Just wait until she’s wearing one of those foolish gowns and we could convince everyone she was a fire throwing lunatic”

“Yeah, she don’t deal with problems were neither, so she’d just panic an’ bolt. Mob would just chase. Then we get the money and stash. Start our own business instead”

These words were hushed, secretive, and Zandelia truly loved to pluck them from other’s lips and record them for use. She only needed a name to go along with their talking and she could warn the poor fool of a woman, get her to escape – after giving her a decent amount of gold of course. Still, this was merely an aside that was relevant and useful, her real goal being to detect any muttering against the Crimson edge. The band could defend themselves, that much was not in question. They would need warning however and at the present time Zandelia’s nets were the best way of gaining that alarm bell. It was unfortunate, then, that her attention was gripped more strongly by a small girl, barely a woman Zandelia thought, spraying what looked like hot coffee over the face of an increasingly outraged market stall owner. Zandelia laughed out loud, and that was what blew her cover.

Well, least I got a show she thought to herself as she made a mental note to try and find this woman they spoke of on what she had managed to glean from them in her half-bell’s worth of following.

Instead she walked past their immobile forms and stoic glances and made her way towards the girl, now being shouted at by the shopkeeper and looking as if she were trying to decide whether to bolt and run away. The man himself was raising his fist and about to cuff the poor thing for nothing more than an honest mistake. Zandelia sped up to a jog I order to make it in time as the stall holder circled his stand and sought to give punishment. She got there just in time to block his downwards stroke with her forearm, deflecting the blow to the side of the girl and putting herself between the two of them. She greeted the man with a smile as sweet as a knife blade.

“If you want to fight, why not try someone who can defend themselves?” she purred.

“What’s this to do with you woman? She yours?”

“If I say yes will you leave her be? Or should I say no and you can try and come through me?” she responded, throwing his arm off of her forearm and pushing him away.

She watched him glare at her for a few moments, standing her ground and looking him in the eyes. After a tense few minutes he let the issue drop and walked back around to his stall dismissing them both with an un-necessary wave of his hand. Zandelia turned to look at the girl and jerked her head to the side, a signal for them to be leaving. With her hand on the girl’s shoulder she took her away, calm and collected and hoping the man wouldn’t ump her from behind – her ears strained for the possible approach. It was only after a few minutes and some distance that she looked down and took her new ward in fully.

“So, what did you do to deserve that then? Insult his long suffering mother?” she asked by way of greeting.

[Lusa]

Devastated by her discovery that coffee only SMELLED divine, Lusa at first did not notice the way the coffee-mans face was becoming red. How could these beans be co cruel? Tempting her to drink, only to trick her with their bitter, acrid taste.

The coffee-man began yelling at her, and Lusa was having trouble following his words. It was safe to say, however, that he was quite angry with her. Probably because the nasty coffee drink was now decorating his face and clothing. He smelled quite nice now, though! She told him so, but it didn't seem to help.

She began shaking nervously, looking around for an escape route, just in case. It took her a moment to remember the right words for when other people are angry. "Sorry, sorry!"

She cringed when he began raising his hand, most likely to strike her in annoyance. Her eyes squeezed shut, expecting her ear to be boxed, but it didn't come. She opened them to see the back of a lady, who was much taller than her, and apparently had saved Lusa from the strike (in Lusa's mind) that surely would have killed her. Lusa watched as the lady established dominance over the coffee-man, and he backed away.

As the lady led her away, Lusa got a good look at her face. The lady seemed pretty, but also smart. Her demeanor reminded Lusa of the crafty fox.

"N-no! I've never even met his mother!" she said, clearly not grasping the true meaning of the question. "He was mad because I made a mess on him...Oh! Don't drink that stuff!" Lusa felt obligated to warn her savior about the sneaky coffee.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia listened to the energetic words of the young girl with a mild sense of bemusement, filled with the innocence and naivety of youth. She both envied and pitied her, so free of cares and worries she had no burdens to weigh upon her soul. Still, Sunberth was not the city for dreamers and their ilk. It would chew her up and spit her out in time, even though Zandelia had kept it bay for a few moments. Zandelia would be the first to admit that she had little in the way of a heart left, however she was finding within herself the determination not to be anything like her traitorous father. It was perhaps that small semblance of motivation that led Zandelia down a pathway of thought she had not expected to experience. She found herself willing to protect the young fawn for a time, a day perhaps – unaware how fawn-like her companion could be.

Oh Zandelia, a day of intelligence mining wasting away and you want to take in strays? Akajia help your endeavors she thought to herself as a small smile crept across her lips, the bubbling words of the girl still continuing until she had ran out of breath.

“Well well, I suppose you have repaid me in kind for you rescue then! No further payment is necessary” she smiled down at the girl, and turning her head to show the fullness of her face, the scar that cut through her left eye, interested to see if she could make a conversation upon that topic seem so new and exciting.

“I would guess perhaps I will have to repay you hmm?” she chuckled as she took the packet the girl had been holding in her grasp, gently away, and smelled the contents. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the smell a little before handing it back to her.

Coffee, how I am in true danger! Zandelia jested to herself, not imparting said words upon the ears of the smaller companion following at her heels.

“What say we go somewhere to sit, and perhaps I can find a way to make what you have purchased taste a bit…better?” Zandelia imparted upon the girl as she steered them both towards a nearby tavern, there to sit and be away from danger for a time, giving Zandelia a few moments to take in the girl and see what she made of her.

It did not take long, the two of them travelling in silence as they padded through the dirt. Zandelia ushered her along, weaving this way and that, at one point even picking the girl up to get her out of the way of a moving cart. She was light, awfully light indeed, and her limbs felt strange. Her lower half held muscle and curves to rival any attractive woman twice her age, however the top part of her body held little to no substance – all skin, bone and little more. Zandelia shook her head as she placed the girl back upon the ground, observing her odd way of moving, as if she were jumping along almost. Still, she shrugged of such considerations as minimal and pulled them both into the tavern – not even bothering to look at the name this time. She sat the girl down and ordered some fresh meats and roasted vegetables, along with passing a bit of coffee to the woman behind the bar and asking for it to be blended with some fresh milk.

“There, take a little sip on that. It’s got sugar in it too. Perhaps a bit nicer than before now. Or, if that fails there is always ale, cheap and watery” she placed two flagons upon the table and sat next to her.

“My name is Zandelia, and I thought perhaps you could do with some food. What’s your name?” she asked the girl, seeking to build the first blocks of information gathering.

[Lusa]

Seated in the tavern, Lusa goggled openly, her large dark eyes flitting between the sumptuous food in front of her, the treacherous coffee which was now much lighter in color, and the scar on Zandelia's face. This lady was being so nice to her, much nicer than anyone else in Sunberth so far. Lusa resolved to sometime do a nice thing for her in return, though she couldn't think of anything she could do for such an obvious alpha. She'd lifted Lusa as if she weighed nothing! Definitely, Zandelia would have been an important doe in the herd.

Giggling in delight at her good fortune, she listened to Zandelia offer her the coffee again. She studied the hot liquid as she separated the meat from the vegetables. She could eat it, but it upset her tummy and was hard to chew, thanks to the lack of canines in her mouth.

My name is Lusa! But you don't have to call me that, you can call me whatever. Your really saved me. You must be an important female for that man to back off! Where did you get that scar? From a bear? I bet you beat it!" She babbled happily, in between bites. "Ale? Is that ale?" She asked, pointing to a tankard nearby. It smells like grains gone bad!"

Taking a sip from the coffee, she nearly melted right onto the floor. It was great! She'd have to remember for cooking in the future, sugar and cream can counteract bitterness.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia couldn’t keep up with the speed at which the little girl’s words were pouring out of her pretty mouth, energetic and fervent as they had all been before. It was a very strange feeling to be an able intelligence collector, a woman of words and their consummate cataloguing and analyzing, and not be able to keep up with the kinetically rapid speech of one little girl. She could only sit and admire her way of dealing with things, which was to talk all over them. She could not even bring herself to chastise her for reference her eye, when if it had been anyone else they may very well have been hanging from a rope after seemingly trivializing her disability. Instead a larger smile broke out across her lips as she listened and awaited an opportunity to actually get to speak a word or two back.

Well well, I may have actually found the most fascinatingly new thing in Sunberth, and by mistake too? How intriguing, it is true what they say about doors after all! she mused to herself as she sipped her ale and waited, patiently.

“Yes youngling, it does smell of gone off grains!” she laughed, appreciating the girl’s acute sense of smell and filing that piece f information away for future consumption, “but that’s because it is gone off grains. Well, fermented is the correct term. Very nice for those of us old enough to appreciate it. Helps the days go by” she responded, her emerald eye twinkling with pleasure.

She look onwards as Lusa began to enjoy the coffee she had had made for her, creamy and sweet. She seemed to relish it as if it were a different world to her taste buds, a window into the infinitely fantastic. It was probable she had never tasted it before, however Zandelia knew how much it cost and so could only assume she had much money about her person. Yet her clothing did not reflect her status as the daughter of an important Sunberthian – or anyone of importance for that matter. Not to mention that she would not have been left alone if she had any companions to speak of. It was a mystery that intrigued her mind, turning it over and over as she tried t slot in the pieces of the puzzle.

“It was no bear, little one, but yes – I beat him in the end. And as to being important, well…I do my best” she stated, and left it at that. There was no sense in telling her too much when it would only twist her mind, but she could not keep a slither of bitterness from creeping into her voice at the words.

Zandelia also noted how she separated her vegetables from the meat, leaving the meat untouched even though it looked to be some of the finest cuts of the day to Zandelia’s gaze. Just to test the theory she took a hold of some of the platter and put it to her teeth, biting deeply of the rick flesh and pulling it apart as she did so. She savored it upon her tongue and let it mulch around in her mouth for a few minutes before swallowing and placing the rest of the cut in and licking her fingers clean. It was truly delicious indeed and there was little explanation for it to have been left by the growing girl before her. Zandelia had felt Lusa herself, knew she could have done with a great amount of meat and fat to build up her body mass. She titled her head and took another slice, leaving all of the vegetables to Lusa – she needed as many of them as she could get.

“Do you not like meat Lusa? I do. One of the best tastes in the world” she stated, seeking to provoke another reaction to try and tease out anything she could about her charge’s history.

“Do you have no one to look after you youngling? Did they leave you alone in the market perhaps? She finished with, assuming that a few questions would provoke more than enough of a response from the girl as to last her a good long while.

What are you my dear Lusa? Where did you come from, and where are you going? Zandelia asked herself with calculating precision.

[Lusa]

Lusa looked apologetic when Zandelia questioned her about the meat. "I do like the taste, especially when I have two feet. But I can't chew it like you! It gives me stomach pain. I don't have the right teeth!" For effect, Lusa bared her teeth in what to her was quite a growl.

"Mama and papa had the sharp teeth, too. They weren't good at finding food for me. That's why they sent me to live with the herd! But they visited me all the time. And then, when I had eight seasons, mama told me I should go 'learn the ways of men', and she gave me a bunch of stuff in this pack, and showed me how to make food, and these itchy clothes to wear." Lusa punctuated her mother's words with air quotes, and pointed at the pack strapped to her torso.

Lusa made a cupping motion in front of her underdeveloped breasts."She said, 'maybe if you could eat meat your chest would grow!'" Eyeing Zandelia's more generous bosom, she nodded approvingly. "You'll have a lot of milk for young!"

She wondered why she was feeling more energetic than usual, as she tried to make the much improved coffee last, taking tiny sips inbetween bites of food.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia had been sipping her watered down ale, more water than ale she guessed from the taste, as the young girl had been chattering out loud, the speed of her words seeming to increase – if that was at all a physical possibility. It turned out to be a misfortune as Lusa’s last words caused her to choke into her cup, violently. The acrid liquid shot up her nose and spurted out, back into her cup in a manner that suggested she should give up on its contents and ask for a new clay cup to be given to her. It had been a long time since Zandelia had experienced true, unbridled honesty. It was not a favored medium for speech in Sunberth, more liable to cause murderous retribution than anything else.

And she sure doesn’t seem to realize any form of consequence, I’ll give her that! Zandelia thought to herself as she tried to cough her lungs back into life, propped up upon her elbow as she bent to the side of the table.

“Well,” she began in between deep breaths, “I’ll be sure to remember that the next time it seems relevant” she eventually got out, a small shadow of crimson leeching into her cheeks and giving her pause for thought. “I wouldn’t worry though Lusa, time will give a woman more than enough…bosom. But I wouldn’t mention it out loud like that from now onwards, it’s not considered….practical” she ended with lamely.

It was her other words, however, that caused more of an intrigue to her mind than the comment about her breasts – well aware as she was that her bosom was more than ample enough for most interested parties. They were odd things for someone to say, and that was by far an underestimation of the facts. Certain words hinted at a reality that Zandelia would never have suspected had she spent hours ruminating upon Lusa and her uniqueness. In retrospect she might have begun to consider the possibilities sooner, the telltale signs there for her to see had she only been more adept at seeking them out.

Kelvic! she knew they were called, but had never met any outside of an aside glance in the slave markets, usually through the bars of an iron cage.

The raw data had been there from the start after all. Her penchant for identifying by scent rather than her other senses should have alerted her. The way in which she moved, not usually seen in most humans could have given her an inkling. She seemed innocent, of course, however Zandelia now knew that it was more from a complete lack of experience to reference from. Only now did her mind race to fill in the connections, analyzing and compiling what Lusa had just revealed to her – and in broad daylight too. It was then that her brain made the leap to imminent danger, and not just for Lusa. Kelvic were highly prized things, sought after by slavers and those willing to abuse for advantage all too often. They were very much an underclass in the eyes of many.

“Lusa,” she spoke out, trying to think of a way to escape the public place that had seemed all too secure but moments ago, “what say we get ourselves away from here, hmm? I can show you where I live, and if you’re lucky you might even find somewhere to…learn…these ways?” she ended, desperately hoping the girl would not reveal more until Zandelia could get her to the safest place she knew of presently – the camp of the Crimson Edge.

Damn this city and its penchant for revealing mystery and danger, just when you least expect she vehemently told herself as she watched the crowd with her single eye, hoping no seedy sorts had taken note.

She was not entirely hopeful of her wish coming true.

[Lusa]

When Zandelia suddenly began sputtering and coughing into her drink, Lusa reached over with a small hand to pat her on the back. She figured she had said one of those things that people weren't supposed to say out loud. She supposed she hadn't paid enough attention when her mother had explained these things. She noticed that now Zandelia was looking at her differently, as if she was thinking very hard.

Lusa took her new friend's advice to heart. Zandelia had quickly become a person that Lusa didn't want to disappoint, so she would try very hard to listen and improve her behavior. Maybe this is what her mother had meant for her to do? "I understand. One should not talk about breasts out loud." She whispered conspiratorially.

Lusa became very excited at the prospect of viewing her friend's home, and it showed on her face through a wide grin. However, Zandelia was also beginning to smell nervous, and she wondered why. It made her fidget in her seat, because if brave Zandelia was nervous about something, then what chance did she have? To alleviate her stress, she stood from her seat. 'I'd love to see your den!"

She shifted from foot to foot. What was Zandelia seeing that Lusa wasn't? Her powerful leg muscles bunched, ready to bound away, and Lusa fought to calm herself and relax.

[Zandelia]

“Yes….den,” Zandelia spoke out loud, softly and almost to herself, “but we don’t call it that Lusa. It’s a called a camp, or a home. Try saying that word from now on eh?” she told the small girl, forcing a smile onto her lips as she ruffled Lusa’ hair in an act that would seem more normal to than their talking to the surrounding patrons.

Akajia, I have to get her to the camp! If I don’t it’s not just her that will be made to suffer Zandelia thought to herself as she used a linen cloth from the table to package some of the vegetables that remained within their bowls into a makeshift pouch she gave to Lusa before taking handful of leftover meats for herself and ushering them both through the door and back out into the streets.

Zandelia was not entirely sure why she found herself to be protective of the little runt she had taken under her charge just a small portion of time ago. She could have just as easily left Lusa in the tavern to be robbed, stolen and captured to be sold on for a hefty profit. Her conscience was not so large that it would have caused her to shrivel and die inside, for her heart and soul were mostly picked clean as it was. No, she was beginning to think that it had more to do with the curiosity than anything else, for her the major motivator of most human activities. The little girl was a mystery to Zandelia, not to mention that Kelvic’s – if that is indeed what Lusa was – were not exactly found roaming the streets to ask questions of and analyze at one’s leisure. Normally she would have to pay through not just her nose, but every orifice besides, just to buy one to talk to.

As she guided them through the streets, choosing the wider and more densely populated avenues of transport for purposes of the belief in the concept of safety in numbers, Zandelia mused upon that fact and tried to ignore the more insidious psychological aspect that were at play throughout her decision making process. If she were truly honest with herself she would have admitted that her own days as a slave, from an age not too dissimilar from Lusa’s if her assumptions were correct – were a motivating factor in protecting her small self-imposed charge. As she took them onto the main road that led across the bridge and towards the fort-like centre of the Sun’s Birth territory she shrugged those concerns off and tried to keep her wits about her, her eye seeking for any sign of imminent danger.

“Well Lusa, I’m not sure you will like my home. It’s not what you would call comfortable to tell the truth,” she spoke, keeping her voice as light and calm as possible whilst still feeling as if they were about to be attacked, “but it’s the safest place I know and not too bad a place to live – for now” she continued, her gaze shifting down to the small girl as she almost seemed to hop and bound along, rather than a normal walking pace.

Unfortunately for Zandelia, it was as they turned towards the south-west and the Crimson Edge campsite that they were finally noticed by eyes she had hoped to avoid. Zandelia was oblivious to this fact, however, her gaze fixed firmly forwards and latched onto the finishing point of their short but swift journey. If she had had the forethought to look behind her she might have noticed the group of five armed men tracking their pace and waiting for their moment to strike.