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"Y-you...!" The gasp was accompanied with a violent cough of blood.

 

A crimson stain had begun to veil itself over the Elezen's vision as he feebly attempted to twist his body, but every motion he made caused something on his person to scream in painful protest. His breathing was ragged, his eyes fluttering rapidly in an attempt to blink away the blood that pooled above his eyes. He couldn't see exactly where he was wounded, but he could feel his life ebb away like loose sand washed away from the shore. Though it required every ounce of effort he could muster, the Elezen managed to reach a hand towards his face to rip his Wailer's mask off of his face.

 

Though he found naught to greet him but a merciless metal edge.

 

The towering figure drove the honed blade deep into the Wailer's skull, the impact making contact with a sickening crack. An irreverent boot found itself on the unfortunate Elezen's neck, and some grunts accompanied the spilch of the weapon being violently extricated from the cadaver. The wooded copse had fallen eerily silent now. Though the sun had breached the apex of the horizon and its argent companion would soon be making its ascent into its star-scattered shroud, not a peep could be discerned from either brush or branch. No owl cried out its jeers and no beastkin dare made itself known to the bloody scene, perhaps out of respect for the dead.

 

The imposing assailant sniffed the air before glancing down at the dark ruby splotches that darkened the blued steel of his weapon. The gleaming emerald outline of the Xaela's eyes shimmered in the dusk with equal parts contemplation and disdain at the sight around him. Two other bodies besides the one beneath his feet lay sprawled amidst the grove. A female Midlander was missing an arm and a leg, and another male Elezen sported an impressive gash across the whole length of his torso.

 

The Xaela brushed a gloved hand through jet black locks, fringed with streaks of deep forest green. His square jaw was firmly set, with lustrous obsidian scales adorning rust red skin, and his face seemed permanently fixed in an expression of humourless severity. A thick tunic of pale fur wrapped itself around his muscular frame, with his left shoulder exposed for freedom of movement, guarded by a metal pauldron. To call Kasrjin Khadai "austere" would be to call a glacier somewhat lethargic, and it was with a deliberate sweep of a clump of grasses that the Xaela did his best to clean the blood off of his weapon.

 

He'd been avoiding the more obvious signs of civilization--roads, blazed trails, and so on--in an attempt to avert this exact kind of situation, and yet somehow the inhabitants of this wood had managed to find him. Kasrjin's thin mouth stretched into a frown and his head swiveled to examine his surroundings. Every single area of this wood looked like the last area; a tall canopy of trees enveloping the forest floor like a cloak. Every now and then a shrub would rustle or a bird would chirp, but otherwise there was very little with which he could ascertain his location or direction. Every turn he had made thus far into the wood had lead the Au Ra in circles, loops, twists and turns.

 

Kasrjin's gaze fixed towards the three mangled bodies behind him. Hiding or burying them was pointless; if they had managed to track him, then it was possible that more were coming. Even so, certain preparations had to be made, least of which was a meal with which to sustain himself. Tied to the Xaela's back with small lengths of hempen twine was the carcass of a small doe. If memory served, it was for this that the other three had pursued him for--the taller, sharp-eared male had pointed at it and shouted before running forward with a spear in hand.

 

The Xaela's mouth twisted in thought. Perhaps they held the animals sacred, or perhaps he had trespassed unawares. Regardless, if his intuition was correct, those individuals had been doggedly pursuing him for at least a full sun now, but even so, he needed to eat. Kasrjin lumped the body of the doe onto the ground and laid his long sword to rest at his side as he knelt down pulled out a knife appropriated from one of his assailants. Getting rid of the carcass was impossible, but the least he could do would be to harvest what he could from it before night fell.

 

As he set the knife about the doe, the Xaela glanced at his surroundings again. Though the bodies would have to be moved, the copse made an ideal camp site, although his frown deepened when he spotted the dried trail of blood that lead directly into the grove. That could cause problems, especially if the masked warriors who had attacked him were accompanied by a larger group. Still, the grove was somewhat isolated and the approach to it was a hill, though not as steep as he would have liked.

 

Would that a Nayantai be here, though the back of his mind knew that skilled hunters as they were, the Nayantai worked best in familiar territory, and this intimidating maze of timber and flora could not be called familiar to the best of them. How any of the denizens manage to navigate this labyrinth was beyond him, though he supposed that featureless expanses of ice and winding mountains would just be confusing to them as these woods were to him.

 

There had been a road some suns in the direction Kasrjin had come from, yet even as the Xaela carved into the doe's body, he could not be certain that he'd be able to find the road again.

 

Such was the nature of hindsight.

 

Flanks of raw meat appropriated from the doe, Kasrjin set about removing the bodies. Each of the armored forms had any useful objects appropriated from them and unceremoniously shoved down the hill some ways beneath the grove. One of two things would happen. Either none came, and the grove would be a safe place to sleep...or more assailants would appear, in which case the sloping hill and the isolated grove would prove to be an ample place to stage an ambush.

 

The Xaela wrapped the meat in large rawhide squares before shoving them into a furred pack, and started to make his way further up the hill.

 

With luck, the night would bring no surprises.

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It was a quiet afternoon in the reaches of the Shroud, and though the sun sat unclouded in the sky a cool wind drifted through the branches from Coerthas, chilling the air. There was a stillness in the wood, one that would send shivers down the neck of any resident – the older among them looking to the sky for rain or thunder, or even some terrible sort of wind. Edda was no such resident however, the charge in the air lost on her La Noscean sensibilities.

 

Edda prepared for a walk as she did most other days during her stay in Fallgourd Float. Having never been one for navigation of any sort, each one of her forays took her deeper into the Shroud as she learned the lay of the land, and attempt with little success to hone her ability to call upon the Elementals. The number of times she had gotten lost was far more than she would care to admit, and had only luck and a growing amount of Wood Wailers to thank for her many safe returns. Still, this did not deter her, and her confidence in navigating the expanse of forest between Fallgourd and Hyrstmill grew with each journey.

 

Leaving from the Eastern gate of the small town, Edda struck a peculiar contrast with natives of the Shroud, a feature many Wailers attributed to her penchant for losing her way. Little argument could be made that she was appropriately dressed for the outdoors, but her clothes were neither weathered nor serviceable, a common trait in Gridanian apparel. A finely made dalmatica dyed a modest pink, decorated with golden clasps and patterns, and boots so finely tailored they seemed more suited for display than actual use. She would consider them plain, yet they did nothing to mask her well-groomed appearance.

 

Having left Fallgourd, Edda followed the path as she normally did, before following an easy slope off the trail and into the woods. It was not the first time she had gone this way, being one of many routes she used to climb a steep hill that led to a large boulder with a remarkable view. Edda was no frontiersman, and moved at a slow pace. She reached out to touch the trees and plants as she moved around them, the feel no longer fresh but not yet a memory, only stopping to tighten her ponytail or adjust her boots. The hill was still a ways off, and Edda took a moment to rest on a nearby stump, carefully tucking her dalmatica underneath her.

 

Beside her was a shrub adorned with white flowers, ones that Edda recognized from her own garden at home. She smiled to herself as she reached out to pick one, and it was there she noticed something strange. A line of red streaked across the side of the shrub, as if someone had run by it with a paintbrush. Edda was no stranger to the sight, but her blood ran cold at the sight of it. Pairs of footprints on the ground led up the slope. They were not the prints of any beast, and Edda knew better than to pursue an injured animal. Yet the possibility of someone wandering the woods while injured was enough to compel Edda, and so she gathered herself up and followed the trail at a quicker pace, her heart pounding in her chest. There was more blood spattered on the leaves of trees and bushes through the woods. It was still fresh, and Edda cursed herself for bringing nothing more than a simple rosewood wand with her.

 

It did not take long at her quickened pace for her to stumble upon a small grove. The sight that awaited her there was enough for bile to rise to her mouth almost instantly. Edda snapped her head towards the sky and swallowed it, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. The smell was beginning to manifest under the sun, and from the small look she gleaned Edda knew there were no survivors. It would not be the first time she had witnessed such gore but the sight was still shocking enough for Edda to keep her gaze towards the canopy. Edda did what she could to manage her breathing, closing her mouth and breathing through her nose. She lowered her head to scan the horizon slowly, resolute on not looking down at the carnage.

 

As she looked towards the line of trees up the slope, Edda could make out the distinct figure of a tall man – an Elezen perhaps – as he retreated deeper into the woods. There was no way to tell if he was responsible, or simply the first unfortunate citizen to stumble upon this grove. Edda stumbled forward and followed his trail at a distance, using trees as both support and cover. Whether he was dangerous or not seemed irrelevant in her mind. Though she was close enough to be seen he did not seem to make any notice of her presence, and if she managed to travel just a bit further, she could descend back to Fallgourd in another direction to avoid the grove. Wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeve, Edda continued forward, her heart still fluttering wildly in fear.

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He was being followed.

 

Though, it was not as if there was any way for Kasrjin to know that. Unlike the stark, rugged glaciers or the winding mountains, the forests of the Shroud were a relentless assault on the senses. Every breeze caused a thousand branches to chime in rhythmic staccato, and every broken twig that cracked beneath his boot sent something--or someone--scurrying away in trepidation through a thousand more unfortunate shrubs and leaves. The wildlife that had so politely excused him during his combat with his masked assailants had just as rudely and suddenly returned and bombarded the silence away with chatters and chirps.

 

His original plan had been to loop around in case he was being followed, but that endeavour had been handily sunk, for not only was it nigh impossible to determine a pursuer's presence, but Kasrjin found himself lost the instant he left anything that could resemble familiar ground. It was if the forest itself was alive and impeding his progress, perhaps in penance for slaying those who were meant to protect it.

 

The Xaela trudged over ledges and roots, the sloping hill gradually giving way to flatter, less obtuse terrain, and shook his head at the thought. It was possible, but improbable. He paused and turned his head slightly to the side, hoping to catch a glance of something from his peripheral vision. Every new stop brought a new sound, a new smell, a new sight, and try as he might, Kasrjin had completely failed to differentiate what was and wasn't a threat.

 

A sigh of frustration escaped his lips as he paused again to examine his surroundings. It was nothing but more timber, more grass, more rocks, more dirt...nothing at all that indicated where he was or where he could be going. Once again, the wooded labyrinth had wrapped him in its loving embrace, and even finding north seemed impossible.

 

The Au Ra continued wandering aimlessly, hoping to at least find a camp site before night fell when a foul odor made itself offensively known to his nose in the same way that an errant bird might find itself unwelcome inside a blacksmith's furnace. The frown that split itself across Kasrjin's face turned into a scowl when his steps took him to a familiar site: an arboreous copse perched on a gentle, inclined hill, marked with displaced dirt and dried blood. That stench was one of the spear warrior's bodies being returned to the earth further down the hill where he had kicked it.

 

He'd done nothing more than make a complete circle.

 

His mind paused briefly.

 

That was intentional.

 

He shook his head.

 

After a thorough examination of the site to make sure he simply hadn't mistaken one corpse-ridden grove with another that just happened to have the same marks, blood, and bodies--with this forest, Kasrjin could never tell--and that this was indeed where the fight had taken place, the Xaela's vexation gave way to exasperation and eventually submission. After all, he had noted that the grove would make a relatively isolated campsite, and it's not as if the flanks of venison sitting in his furred pack were getting any fresher. If he was lucky, the smell of decomposing cadavers might also keep away more squeamish visitors...or it'd bring unwanted attention. Yet, perhaps that was not so bad. Assuming they didn't attack him outright--an audacious assumption to be making, surely--Kasrjin noted that perhaps they might lead him out of this godforsaken forest. He sat down on a felled log and laid the furred pack and the, the sword immediately slumping to the ground, as if sensing the defeat of its wielder.

 

Damn his pursuers, if they even existed. The Xaela set about looking for twigs for a fire to dry the venison.

 

He might be stumbled upon by more who wished him harm, but that had to be better than being lost for another sun.

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She had lost sight of the figure quickly enough.

 

Meandering cautiously behind him, Edda began to head West as best she could. She fought against the incline of the slope until she reached her original destination - a flat boulder jut out of the steep bank overlooking a river. The drop below was nearly 50 fulms into deep waters. An intimidating, if not deadly plunge in her eyes, but that did not stop certain locals leaping off as tests of courage. She dared not approach the edge, so she instead sat on the fallen trunk of a nearby tree to rest. There was never cause for such haste in her walks, and though she was by no means swift in making her way here, her legs and chest ached.

 

Now with a chance for respite, Edda’s mind was left to wander to the gruesome scene at the grove. It felt as if every nerve in her body had gone numb, and it was a wonder her legs were able to carry her as far as they did. What had happened there? An Ixali encampment was several malms away, though it was not unheard of for bands of them to wander so close to civilization. Still, there had been no sign of them from the cursory glance she had spared the area, and the wounds on the bodies were unlike any she had seen on those brought back to Fallgourd for treatment. The distant figure she had seen might have been the cause, but with little effort to hide the bodies, and Wood Wailers being unprofitable targets, it struck her as unlikely.

 

Sitting there listening to the rushing water below her, Edda cursed herself for not making her way back to the road immediately. There was no guarantee it would have been safer, but other Wailers should be alerted, if they did not already know.

 

It was possible they had already discovered it.

 

A reassuring thought, but not enough to placate her desire to forget the scene altogether. It was not far from the road, and the chance of the bodies being happened upon seemed favorable. It would do no harm to check, and if things were as Edda had left them, then she could alert the guards at Fallgourd. Still, she had no desire to witness such brutality again, the thought alone enough to make her feel ill. A familiar image to her, one devoid of anything but fear, the centerpiece of countless sleepless nights – it was not something she could so easily be at ease with. It would be better to wait.

 

And so she did, each minute passed another chance for the dead to be discovered and moved. The mountain range separating the Shroud and Coerthas could be seen more clearly here, a dark stretch of cloud approaching Fallgourd at a steady pace. As she waited, the wind began to quicken, the charge of an oncoming thunderstorm beginning to fill the air. The sun still shone brightly as the afternoon began to pass by, but as soon as the dark cover of clouds could be seen across the river, Edda picked herself up and began to head back down to the road.

 

It was a faster journey downhill, though not any easier. More suited to a ballroom than the rough terrain of the forest, her feet tripped and stumbled over rocks and fallen branches, her arms reaching out to tree trunks to stop herself from falling the rest of the way there. As she arrived at the clearing, Edda stopped to survey what she could. Most of the grove was obscured by low branches, but the smell of death was now mixed with fire, and smoke could be seen rising from the center. What could they possibly need a fire for? The movement of Wood Wailers was notably absent. She slid down to the next tree to get a closer look, small rocks and leaves rolling down the hill from her disturbance.

 

At this new vantage point Edda could make out the form of the person she had seen earlier, hunched over the fire, his back facing her. That the same man would return and leave the bodies undisturbed was telling. She had best avoid this man and return to the safety of her room. He did not yet make any notice of her presence despite her proximity, and so she began to slowly skirt the edge of the grove. No sooner had she let go of the trunk did her foot snag underneath a root, sending her lurching forward. She let out a short yelp as she fell and tumbled down the slope a short ways, stopping only as her back collided with a tree. It was not the first time this had happened, so she was relatively quick in straightening herself out. She was winded however, and she hissed at a sharp sting in her ankle as she sat up. There would be no running now, and the noise she caused had surely been alarming. Edda froze, her breathing hitching as she nursed her ankle, hoping her presence had gone unnoticed.

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In the first instant, he had merely assumed that that particularly loud rustle of shrubbery was more of this damnable forest's trickery. In the next instant, the blued steel of the sword had vanished from its harness, the latter tumbling away into the nearby foliage from the forceful swing that had extricated its occupant.

 

The Xaela held the lengthy weapon horizontally, parallel to his body and close to his abdomen. The confined spaces of the forest would make wide swings impractical; one hand was held close to the top of the main grip just beneath the crossguard, and the other hand held firmly onto the blunted, leather-wrapped section of the blade just above it, his stance resembling that of one who was wielding a short spear. The shimmering viridian of his eyes had narrowed so as to focus his vision amongst the shadows that leapt to and fro from every leaf and branch, and the honed edge of the Au Ra's armament practically sang in the air with anticipation.

 

If the ebony scales of Kasrjin's horns could have twitched, they would have. The jolts made by the vegetation--and the barely audible yowl that accompanied it--was far too vehement to have been an act of the wind or a small animal, not unless a gale had arrived without warning or the rodents had grown to unusual sizes. There was someone, or something else present. Another of the masked assailants? A wild beast? He stepped lightly, leaning on the heels of his feet as opposed to the toe. The Xaela's eye twitched slightly with every crunch from a dried leaf or every snap from an errant twig. Every other step, Kasrjin paused briefly, attempting to focus on his hearing in order to hone in on the source of his discomfort.

 

An idle boot instinctively kicked a clump of dirt onto the tiny fire, whose embers flickered in protest at its treatment and gradually began to die. Kasrjin's steps were still full of wary trepidation, and he slowly twisted and turned to examine his surroundings. Once again, the forest's untamed denizens had ceased their chatter and fallen into a hushed silence. Whoever had deigned to make the disturbance had not revealed themselves. Therefore, the Au Ra reasoned, they either remained hidden or had fled. The former was far more likely unless the unwelcome presence flew on silent wings, and his cautious advance had begun to take him further down the slope. The Xaela's head swiveled above and below him. What he'd once written off as featureless greenery became an ominous and menacing setting wherein occupied the most fearsome opponent that any mortal could face: the unknown.

 

A flash of colour caught Kasrjin's eye, and his cautious steps became long strides to better clarify the image that appeared before him. A hardened, stern expression, ready for blood and battle, melted into an apprehensive frown comprised of equal parts bafflement and suspicion. The ready stance of his weapon weakened somewhat, and the Au Ra's movement had ceased its descent of the slope so jarringly that meandering streaks marred the dirt.

 

It was said that the limited nature of mortals provided an equally limited perspective, and as such they could not possibly imagine the unknown, for obvious reasons. Even so, Kasrjin had a few preconceived notions as to the accoutrements of the unknown, notions that were handily dashed by the sight of the outlandish bundle of pink and gilded accessories that was nearly prostrate further ways down the slope. The colours and slight form contrasted heavily with his own heavy, muscular frame lined with white fur and wild, rough leather, and marred with stains of maroon.

 

His sword was still held at the ready, but the memory of combat with the masked warriors was still fresh on the Xaela's mind. Avoiding more disputes of that nature would be the most advantageous course of action, and this new individual did not hold a similar appearance to those who had attacked him earlier. And yet, there was the possibility that the denizens of this wood had intended for this to happen.

 

The sword tensed in the air.

 

With luck, that idea was untrue.

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In hindsight, it was foolish of her to think such a disturbance would go unnoticed. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge as the distinctive sound of footsteps drew closer. It was a slow advance, one marked with apprehension. Branches bent and snapped as the figure left the grove, and Edda knew she was as good as caught.

 

When the footsteps ground to an abrupt halt Edda dared to move, looking up from her ankle to the direction the sound had come. She had not expected the sight before her. Less alerted by the unsheathed weapon, her eyes focused on the dark figure that bore it. He was no Elezen, that much was certain. Dark scales speckled about his skin, heavy horns protruding from his head – he was every bit more fearsome than she could have imagined. It was not the first time she had seen one of these creatures. There had been the airy, dainty woman with horns of gold and a voice like bells, but the man standing before her was the perfect contrast. His height and expression alone were enough to send chills down Edda’s spine. Panic was apparent on her face – eyes wide and focused, the color drained from her face. Perhaps this man was used to such a reaction, but the thought did little to allay her. Fear would afford her little.

 

Edda lowered her gaze from his face, fixating instead on the claymore he wielded. It was clear from the size of it, and the stains on his garb, that he had been responsible for the deaths of the three Wood Wailers. Though the sword was clean, the size of the gashes on the bodies determined it the likely culprit. What little information on his race she gleaned from the library at home managed her no guess to his motivations. Whether he acted in self-defense or killed in cold blood, the man was dangerous. She could offer no explanation for her presence here, nor did she have anything substantial to give him in exchange for her safe release.

 

Edda felt very much trapped. Still, she felt little need to await her death at the hands of an unknown barbarian.

 

The damp soil of the forest began to seep through her clothes as she sat at the base of the tree. Her ankle still pained her, but Edda reached out to the trunk to steady herself as she pushed off the ground. She moved slowly as to not alert the man, though she could not move any faster if she tried. She grimaced as she stood. Her body ached from her short tumble down, and she shifted her weight to her good leg and leaned her back against the tree. Edda glanced away for a moment to look further down the slope. The road was not far. She would not be able to run, but perhaps if she managed to hurl herself down to the road, it would deter him from following. His weapon was a heavy one, and he had little room for a quick swing. There was still a chance.

 

Yet the man had made no move to harm her yet, and had said nothing. His expression was focused and cold. Her breath came out in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. She was afraid. Edda reached up to wipe off a smear of dirt on her cheek. This was not the first time she had been in such a quandary, and she had survived this far. Edda met the man’s stare and took a deep breath, relaxing her face. Though fright still shone through in her eyes, she forced a sharp glare at the man. It was an even look of both impatience and disdain. There was practice in her bearing, one that gave the impression that she was far more resourceful than she seemed. She braced herself against the tree and spoke in a low voice.

 

“Well? Are you going to kill me or not?”

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His piercing gaze scrutinized the bundle. Its slight features and slender build implied femininity, though given the effort that Kasrjin had put into avoiding any and all of the western continent's denizens, he had no way to know for sure. The features of her face had amalgamated into a steely expression. She carried no weapons, but that did not mean she was incapable of inflicting harm. Kasrjin had not yet borne witness to whether or not the peoples of this land were capable of utilizing the Correspondence, but that was not information he was particularly interested in verifying, given the tense situation.

 

The Xaela held his sword still, the point facing outward and a hand poised on the flat of it. The trees would make swings impossible, and so he altered his grip so as to be ready to thrust the weapon at an instant's provocation. The stranger, in turn, leaned against a tree. Kasrjin tilted his head slightly, noting the way she leaned against one leg. An injury? That would explain the yelp and the tumble, but what that didn't explain was what she was doing in a presumably wild part of the wood in the first place.

 

A faint spot of self-awareness was cognizant of how he must appear to the female, regardless of whether or not she had intended to harm him. He did not particularly wish to be intimidating to her--it would make discourse difficult--though the circumstances demanded that it be an advantage.

 

It would seem that the female wished to interrupt Kasrjin's steady and silent observation of her as her expression morphed into one of haughtiness as she leaned against the tree and spoke.

 

"Well? Are you going to kill me or not?"

 

Immediately following the question was a sense of profound bafflement that washed over him like sand muffling an errant seashell and expressed itself in a stern frown. The Xaela understood what the individual words meant, but not when they were arranged in that particular order. What was the purpose of the query? He was already poised to kill her if needed to, yes, but Kasrjin felt that his intentions--at the very least, the intention to not kill her without provocation--was evident by way of the fact that he had not yet done so. If she perceived him as an opponent, then what could she have gained by doubting whether or not he had intended to kill her? Clearly, if he was to be considered an enemy with which to engage in combat or from which she needed to flee, then his intentions could be reasonably inferred from that assumption and thus the time asking such a superfluous inquiry could have been better used instead for either of those courses of action. It was akin to seeing the sun pause in the sky and asking if it was going to rise from the horizon.

 

The Au Ra shook his head, both as a silent answer to the female's question and to clear his own mind. Tsanai had made persistent warning of this continent's oddities, but to be expected to interpret such perplexing behaviour at this early outset was an unexpectedly challenging development.

 

Kasrjin lowered the point of his sword and relaxed his grip on his weapon. After all, his intention was to wound or maim, but not to kill. He needed an egress from this forest, but should she attempt hostile action, the Xaela felt ready to disable her.

 

"Where is the road?" he rumbled, attempting to match the volume of the female's inquiry. His voice was a perplexing contradiction of smooth and gravelly, like crumbled rocks being slid down a chute.

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The man made no move to attack. He seemed rather unperturbed by her appearance and question, and Edda was thankful neither of those things was enough to provoke him into action, in spite of his barbarous appearance. Despite the standstill, she did not relax, still tense against the tree and watching the man closely for any signs of aggression. Neither of them moved, and for a moment the woman wondered if he could understand her. Her perception was quickly dashed when the man shook his head and lowered his sword, an action which made her noticeably flinch.

 

“Where is the road?”

 

A rather unexpected inquiry. Edda’s expression morphed into a blank stare, her lips parting at the absurdity of it. He was no native, clearly, but the directness of it surprised her, and it did little to compliment his brutish bearing. There was sincerity in his query that left her all the more baffled. It was not an uncommon thing to hear from simple travelers, but if that was all he was then surely there was no need for such brutality. He was dressed for the outdoors, but to miss the road entirely at so short a distance seemed improbable. Perhaps he was chased into the woods for committing some sort of crime. It would explain the killings, unless that was his way of thanking people for directions.

 

Having the ability to lose her way in any environment, Edda was far from unsympathetic to the man. However, his uncouth actions seemed an ill-fit for one wanting to travel by road. Here, following the road would lead him to only two places: Fallgourd Float, or Gridania. If his destination lay beyond those two points, he would need to pass through, or risk losing his way again by circling around. With stains of blood on his clothes and his incongruous appearance in the reclusive Shroud, entering any bastion of civilization would be a poor idea. It was doubtful he was headed to either location, but if he was he would not make it far past the gates before being apprehended. A humorous thought, but she doubt he would go peacefully, and perhaps take even more lives with him in the process.

 

Edda shifted her weight to test her ankle. A jolt of disapproving pain coursed up her leg, and so she resumed favoring her right leg and leaned further into the tree. Ready to address his question, she turned to look down the slope, and carefully pointed down past the tree. “It is just down the hill. You would be hard-pressed to miss it.”

 

She turned back to the man to gauge his reaction, or receive gratitude in the form of cold steel. The dark clouds that had been approaching from Coerthas began to make their way over the canopy, stopping more light from entering the dense forest. Edda narrowed her eyes as she inspected the Au Ra once more. Even in the poor light, the bright emerald rings in his eyes stood out. The tattered leathers and furs of his garb were unlike any she had seen before, and even considering the more outlandish companies of adventurers in Eorzea, Edda could not imagine an area within a thousand malms that would be receptive to such an appearance.

 

Edda paused and licked her lips. A small smile made its way across her features, though mixed with her unabated fear it felt more like an awkward smirk. “Although,” she began in a hesitant voice. “If you are heading into town, I would suggest a change of clothes.” There was a lilt of inquisitiveness in her voice, for her own sake as well of those in Fallgourd. She would not be able to beat him there in her current state, and she made no move of leaving her present position. She hoped he planned to leave peacefully, and if he did so, whatever information she could garner from him could be put to use later on. He did not seem rather talkative however, and so Edda awaited his next course of action, and less so his words.

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Kasrjin frowned. Surely that was not correct. There were some very basic principles to finding one's way--following water, tracking shadows cast by the sun, following the stars, and so on. All of these had failed him one way or another for various reasons. The stream had ended in an aquifer, the arboreous canopy made sunlight and shadows inaccurate, and the layout of the stars from this continent was completely foreign.

 

Then again, he was a stranger to this land. To be lost was to be expected, and it would be foolish to assume that any concepts, much less those related to geography, would remain universal.

 

The Xaela lowered his weapon further such that the tip hovered just above the soil, attempting to appear less threatening while maintaining a practical posture in case he was required to act. The female appeared to be somewhat less wary, though he could tell that she was still tense and prepared to flee if the situation called for it. Still, the fact that she was even speaking to him, even if it was due to an injury, was fortuitous. Kasrjin felt some small measure of relief, that perhaps he may yet be guided from this obtuse forest.

 

At the comment made to his appearance, he glanced down briefly. Garments aside, he was sure to be out of place in any settlement. It would likely be best to continue avoiding civilization for now, at least within the realms of practicality. If there was a town nearby, then it was highly likely that the masked assailants that had attacked him had resided there, and undue antagonism would cause aggravating delays.

 

After several silent moments of breath thought, Kasrjin exhaled and trudged a short distance to pick up the sword harness that had been flung off the blade, and the fur pack he had abandoned. Affixing the harness back to himself, he stared the female in the eye, taking note of the adverse weather that seemed to be approaching unrestrained.

 

"I require guidance towards snow and mountains." His manner of speech was not unlike the Xaela himself: blunt and to-the-point. Even the way he spoke the words sounded as if iotas of breath had been clipped from the beginning and end so as to be efficient. "Point me in the proper direction and I shall be on my way."

 

Of course, there was little reason to assume that any directions he received would be correct, but there were a few possibilities in the Au Ra's mind. One is that she would give him a random direction and he would leave, allowing her to depart in peace. Then, he would likely become lost again. The second was that she would be willing to guide him personally, though that held its own host of traps and ambushes, to say nothing of the female's injury.

 

Tsanai had told him of the concept of bartering services as opposed to physical possessions that that the western continent possessed. Odd as it was, perhaps he could use that.

 

His eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips attempting to find the right words. "I will offer my body in return," Kasrjin offered, his expression stern and straightfaced. It made sense. It was very likely that this female possessed the perceptive abilities to discern his status as a warrior from both his weapon and his clothing. Thus, if the peoples truly did trade services, then it would only stand to reason that she might wish to utilize his abilities as payment, and that to word the offer in such a straightforward manner meant it would be unlikely that she would misunderstand his intent.

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The answer seemed to dismay him.

 

As he lowered his weapon and foraged for its harness, Edda let out a sharp sigh through her teeth and relaxed against the tree. She kept her eyes trained on him as he moved. Had he planned to hurt her, he would have done so already, and the genuine vexation in his expression made him seem less the cold-blooded killer she had first taken him for.

 

Rather than make his way towards the road, as she had expected him to, the man turned to her once more and spoke. “I require guidance towards snow and mountains. Point me in the proper direction and I shall be on my way.” This was a far more ambitious request than his prior need for the road. Edda narrowed her eyes at the man in doubt – that he would simply let her go was doubtful at best. With his sharp eyes, her injury had almost certainly not escaped his notice. Even still, setting her free would no doubt lead to trouble for him later on, as she would likely alert more Wailers to his heading.

 

Either he was daft, or overly-trusting, or both. It would be just as easy for her to point him towards Gridania, where he would be likely to run into trouble. And even if she showed him the correct route, he had little assurance that he would not become lost once more.

 

Edda watched his features morph into a shadow of frustration. “I will offer my body in return.” This was much more unexpected. Edda gaped at the man, her brows furrowing and lips parting. What possible use could she have for his body? Use his scales as a washboard? Hang her underwear out to dry on his horns? There was little else she could imagine what he, or anyone else for that matter, could mean by such a thing. His expression remained stern, and it became clear his offer was quite serious.

 

Her eyes focused once more on his sword and outlandish clothes. He appeared unhurt, and felling three Wood Wailers with little issue would mean he was quite skilled with a blade. It was not uncommon for one to bargain their services in exchange for another, though Edda had not done so before. He was not very well-spoken, but the assumption was a likely one. It did not seem a fair trade, to offer himself as a weapon in exchange for mere directions. If he planned to go alone, she would not be able to obtain his services anyway, rendering the proposal negligible.

 

Oh.The meaning of the offer clicked as he stared at her expectantly. Whether he did not trust her for accurate guidance, or he feared losing his way yet again, the veiled suggestion in his appeal became clear. However, it was still an assumption on her part, though she saw little harm in testing the waters.

 

“Are you asking me to take you there personally?” Her lips curled into an uneasy smile, her brow still furrowed. She did not wait for an answer, and once more test her left ankle with her weight. The pain still persist, but she would be able to walk if need be. “If I refuse, will you take me as a hostage?” The question sounded more like a challenge than the actual fear she felt at such a thought. The Au Ra seemed observant enough to realize she would not put up much of a fight – at least in the ways that he would expect.

 

Waiting for a response, Edda looked up at the clouded sky.Perhaps she could yet find some use for the man. It would not be the first time she consorted with a killer, and the thought did little to perturb her. She knew the way to Coerthas in theory alone, having only flown in by airship once before. Despite being a native of Vylbrand, Llymlaen had not blessed her with any navigational skills to speak of, though she saw little point in bringing that up now.

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Kasrjin tilted his head, his brow creased with consternation. Judging by the curious expression on the female's face, his offer was not very well-received, though the Xaela had no way of knowing if it was because of the nature of the trade itself or because of how he had clumsily worded it. The corner of his lip curled in some frustration. Situations like this were to be expected, of course, given the nature of foreign lands, but having to spar with hidden meanings and obtuse customs like some dithering Aljai was not something the warrior found preferable.

 

At the female's query, the Au Ra shook his head. He maintained eye contact with her with a stony countenance, gazing at her curiously. More odd questions, and a word he was unfamiliar with, though from the sounds Kasrjin could attempt to infer its meaning. The first syllable of the word sounded like "house", a place of residence, but what the "age" meant was anyone's guess. Was she asking for his hospitality? Unless she were blind, she should be able to see that he was travelling on his own and thus would have no dwelling to speak of, not unless she mistakenly believed that he resided in this wood. And if she refused to give him the information he needed, why would Kasrjin ever consider making her a house guest, anyway?

 

"No," the Xaela said, shaking his head once more. "I will not take you as a...host-age. I only require direction, or guidance, to my destination." It was possible that she would simply draw him into more of those masked warriors, but getting into a fight had more predictable results than simply continuing to wander aimlessly. Kasrjin judged the risk to be worth it.

 

Would it be worth it attempting to bargain with services again? Perhaps. "I will fight in return. Should you wish," he offered again a bit more awkwardly. It was impossible to tell if this would actually work or not, but it didn't particularly matter. At the very least, Kasrjin knew where the road was now, so finding his way north from there should be a matter of relative simplicity.

 

So he hoped.

 

"I do not wish to cause trouble," he added in an attempt at earnestness. "But it is important that I reach snow and mountains." As an attempt at a show of good faith, he relaxed his grip on the sword such that only one hand gripped it, the other falling to his side. Simple directions would be sufficient, but a guide would be better...assuming he wasn't being guided into hostile action, anyway.

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Edda considered the man’s words carefully, frowning inconsideration. I do not wish to cause trouble, he said. This came as quite a surprise, considering the great deal of trouble that lay dead behind him in the grove. He seemed rather persistent however, and his desire to travel north – for whatever reason – seemed an earnest one. The woman looked up at the sky and sighed. Though it was dark under the thick canopy of trees, the faint light of the sun could be seen past the clouds as the afternoon began to slip away. It would not do to linger here.

 

Closing her eyes, she considered his offer to fight. He seemed to have considerable skill with a blade. The simplicity of his words and apparent lack of care over taking lives could be useful. He did not seem the type to ask questions. A man of his stature would make a poor assassin, but if her feelings were true then all she would need was a sharp blade and someone to swing it – nothing more.

 

Edda snapped her head back down to give the Au Ra a steady look. “I may yet have a use for you,” she said. She pushed off from the tree and turned to face down the hill. Her ankle stung in protest but she was not unfamiliar with such pain. Looking over her shoulder, she spoke once more to the man. “This way.”

 

She did not check back to see if he followed as she made her way down the hill. There was a noticeable limp in her gait, though she suppressed it as best she could. There would be time enough to fix it later. Edda bit her lip as she hobbled down the slope, reaching out to passing trees to support her weight. As she came upon the road, she stopped to look and see if anyone was coming in either direction. The coast was clear, and she stepped into the road.

 

Fallgourd Float was not far, though it was obscured by a bend in the road. It was only a fifteen minute walk – twenty in her current condition – and doubtless the fastest way to Coerthas. But would it be the safest? Edda tried to peek her head around the bend to little avail. Attempting to traipse through Fallgourd with a feral Au Ra would be dubious at best.

 

Edda did not turn to look over her shoulder at the sound of another emerging into the road. “Beyond the bend is a small town – the fastest way across the lake,” she began. It seemed the easiest route to her, but for the now non-confrontational Xaela she was not so sure. “Follow the river southeast and the nearest crossing is in twenty malms, give or take. The choice is yours.”

 

So she said. Getting him through Fallgourd would be difficult, but not impossible, depending on how well he planned to cooperate. It was a long stretch between Fallgourd and the nearest settlement in Coerthas, and stopping for supplies sooner rather than later would be ideal. However, fighting breaking out was very much a possibility, and Edda could hardly imagine just how disastrous that would be.

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The Xaela accompanied the female wordlessly as she made a vague gesture towards what seemed like an arbitrary direction. Her acquiescence sounded a tad ominous, but if this trading of services was what was required for him to achieve his objective, then it was an inconsequential detour. Kasrjin noted her injury again, and the way she hobbled on one foot and leaned on various trees as they passed by, but made no attempt to assist. It would not do to spoil his one chance of escaping this forest by committing some manner of social faux pas.

 

Or so he thought. It was with shocking promptness that the pair emerged from the featureless maze that had been the shrouded forest and on to a distinctly cut dirt road, with the occasional lone cobblestone poking out from beneath the soil. Had the road truly been so close to where they had been? It was no wonder that the masked warriors had appeared so suddenly, then. Kasrjin had originally believed that they simply knew the forest, and while that was perhaps true, it'd seemed that the Au Ra was but a stone's throw away from finding his way, and yet a disturbing number of suns he had spent doing naught but wandering aimlessly.

 

Presented thusly with the two possibilities, Kasrjin's response was almost immediate. He was not completely certain of the distance a "malm" would take, but twenty of them sounded daunting, if the female's tone was to be believed. "We may cross the town," he said bluntly, though his wording and lack of confidence in his use of language had the stern Au Ra seem like he was asking more of a question. The Xaela shrugged his shoulders briefly, tapping the handle of his sword with the back of an idle hand as if to check if his bladed passenger was still present.

 

Of course, a town could mean many things, not all of them positive, and yet Tsanai had been encouraging in the Au Ra learning of the western continent. If Kasrjin was to believe the female he now followed--that he may possess certain utilities she may or may not apply--then it was not completely likely that he would be attacked on sight.

 

Perhaps now was an opportune moment to gain some information, though the Xaela was not the best conversationalist. Should he wait? Or broach the subject now? The lecture on social conventions he'd received prior to departing for the Western continent only indicated that standard protocols for conversations were far from practical. But then, perhaps the female knew of his masked assailants. It'd been mere minutes since Kasrjin had made contact with a denizen of the western continent, and already he was baffle beyond belief, his turmoil made present by his face morphing into silent confusion, though it solidified itself into a strange expression of severity. Who were the masked ones and why was he attacked? Why had this female been venturing out?

 

"What should I be aware of before we enter?" he asked, his perplexity making itself known with the bluntness of the query.

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The man’s decision to cross Fallgourd came as a surprise. His need to travel to Coerthas and beyond must be a pressing one, Edda thought, and she wondered what lay in such inhospitable lands that would drive him so. Turning back to look at the man, she glared at the hilt of his sword, just visible over his shoulder.

 

“Whatever you do, do not draw your sword under any circumstance.” Her gaze returned to his face, and she looked him in the eye for a short moment, allowing her words to sink in. “If it seems you are in danger, believe me, it will not be a mortal one. If – through some bizarre circumstance – violence becomes necessary, I will let you know.”

 

Edda turned and began to make her way down the road, bidding silently for the Xaela to follow. The clouds hung heavy in the sky, and the temperature began to drop quickly as a chill wind blew down from the mountains. It felt like snow. This could only be a good thing for them, with the cool temperature more likely to drive those idling outside back indoors. The Black Shroud was certainly full of strange sights, and as she understood it, had become much more open to travelers than it had in the past. Fallgourd was frequented by adventurers as well, more so than most outposts in the forest. It was a welcoming place, but the intimidating Au Ra dressed in bloodstained fur would surely be enough to set most residents on edge.

 

“Stay close to me,” she continued. She brushed some dirt off the front of her dalmatica and tightened her ponytail. “It would behoove you to not speak much – use only simple words if you must.” Edda sighed. She had an explanation for his presence prepared already, but it was complicated by the three bodies left behind in the grove. When – if – she should return, and her story was found to be a false one, it would be easy for her to claim she was held hostage. She preferred it not come to that.

 

Fallgourd Float came into view soon enough. Edda squinted ahead as she hobbled closer, and recognized the two guards at the gate. Priorfaix was an elderly Wailer, who stood guard with his son, whose name escaped her. The son was more often than not sleeping under his wooden mask, and for that she was thankful. As the two approached, she could see Priorfaix peering at the figure behind her. Forcing her limp down, she slowed her gait as they drew near to the entrance, and gave the man a small wave.

 

“Friend of yours, lass?” Edda stopped as he addressed her.She hoped her standing in front of the Xaela would be enough to hide the blood on his clothes.

 

“Not quite,” she said. She smiled at the man and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I found him wandering the forest. I agreed to show him the way to Coerthas, but we were accosted by a band of Ixal.” Her expression sobered as to fit the conversation. “This ah, man here fought them off and we managed to escape, but please do take care.”

 

Priorfaix nodded, his expression serious. He stared up at the Au Ra curiously and frowned. He did not seem very taken by him. “Aye, aye we will,” he said after a moment and nodded again. “And you as well.” Edda inclined her head in thanks, and continued into the town. She glanced over her shoulder to see she was being followed, and sighed in relief. The sound of Priofaix shouting at his son could be heard as they made their way down the wooden walkway. “You hear that, you daft boy? Ixal!”

 

As she expected, there were not many outdoors; the few that were stared at the pair as they passed. Edda did not make eye contact with any of them, as if doing so would confirm whatever suspicions they had. She hastened her pace and kept her head down, heading straight for the small stables at the entrance to town. Not wanting to deal with any more interaction, she withdrew her chocobo herself, nearly dragging the impudent creature along with her. She dared not look or inquire to the Xaela – she could scarce imagine what was going through his head. His earlier question made it seem as if he had not once stepped foot in any sort of town, and Edda doubted whatever hasty explanation she could have given him would have sufficed.

 

Making their way to the aetheryte, Edda led on to a quiet area near the water. The worse of it was now over, and she felt as if she could relax. She looked over to The Bobbing Cork just across the water, where she stayed. She would need supplies. It was not a very long journey, but a perilous one – made so by the ice and snow that had settled in the region since the Calamity. Edda turned to the man abruptly and handed him the reigns to her chocobo.

 

“Wait here,” she instructed. “There are items I must fetch –clothes and other sundries. I will return shortly.” She did not wait for a response, and made her way across the bridge and disappeared into the large building.

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The Xaela tensed slightly at the presence of more masked warriors standing at the gates of the settlement. He was unconfident in the female's assurance that she would "let him know", as they had failed to agree upon any form of signal. Kasrjin made a deliberate shrugging motion with his shoulders so as loosen the sword's posture in its harness, just in case.

 

"Friend of yours, lass?" One of the masked warriors inquired to the pair. Kasrjin stared at him rather intensely with a piercing emerald gaze, though the complete lack of subtlety was not intentional so much as it was simply the Au Ra's way of inspecting things. Both of the warriors wore the same garb as his assailants; a curious carved mask with black markings and circular eye holes, spears tipped with bone and green leather garments.

 

The Xaela noted the impracticality of the mask; the circular eye holes would narrow the wearer's eyesight and deny peripheral vision. The spears were mounted on the warriors' backs with the tip pointing above their right shoulder; presumably, they armed themselves by bringing their left arms around their backs and grabbing the haft. Wouldn't they instead hold their spears in front of them or over their shoulder to bring the points to bear with greater speed and ease? The sturdy harness holding Kasrjin's blade was designed such that it would flip away from his back and flex without breaking, allowing the Au Ra to withdraw the weapon quickly with a sweeping diagonal strike despite the intimidating length of the blade. A similar concept for a spear should not have been so difficult, surely. At the least, mounting a spear upon one's back would be something that is reserved exclusively for travelling, and at a glance these idle guardians--which is what Kasrjin presumed was the role of the masked ones--likely only concerned themselves with travelling to their meals and their bed.

 

"Not quite," the female said in response to the masked warrior's query. She seemed to adjust her posture oddly such that she was standing in front of the Au Ra, though the top of her head barely reached up to Kasrjin's chest. "I found him wandering the forest. I agreed to show him the way to Coerthas, but we were accosted by a band of Ixal. This ah, man here fought them off and we managed to escape, but please do take care.”

 

These were words that the Xaela had heard before but was not overly familiar with. Coerthas was a...town? A region? Possibly the name of the mountains Kasrjin was attempting to reach, though it was equally possible that the female was simply fibbing to divert attention. He subconsciously made a small nod of approval. Though he did not know where exactly Coerthas was, doing so would misdirect any assailants in this town from pursuing them...assuming that it was not the name of the location he was attempting to reach.

 

As for Ixal, Kasrjin had heard the term in passing but had not yet fully worked out what its meaning was. Clearly it was the name of a group of some kind, but the nature of the group was an enigma. They were some kind of enemies of the masked ones, however, that much he could be certain of.

 

The Xaela sensed the glare coming from beneath one of the warrior's wooden masks and instinctively returned it with one of his own. Perhaps this was one of the odd social practices that he had been warned about. Was it intended for him to stand his ground, as one did when facing a bear? The complexities of the western continent's culture made the Au Ra slightly dizzy merely thinking about it, so he broke his gaze quickly and followed the female into the settlement.

 

And so it was that Kasrjin obtained his first impression of civilization on the western continent, which had been shrouded in myth and legend for so long.

 

His eyes swept through his surroundings, devouring as much information as they could. There were a few denizens still out and about as the chill began to take over, and Kasrjin could not help but give them his severe gaze of observation as he did before. These peoples did not carry weapons and were dressed simply. They could not have been artisans or laborers. Fishermen, perhaps? The settlement was built upon a river, so that was possible. One of Tsanai's most frequent cautions was to avoid projecting his knowledge of his own society upon the societies of others, and yet Kasrjin's mind could not help but attempt to categorize everything and everyone. The Xaela made an extra effort to look for the pointed hats that signified peoples who possessed the potential to interpret the Correspondence, but found none with a cursory inspection.

 

The settlement was surprisingly practical in some ways, and rather absurd in others. It was built upon a place of the river beneath waterfalls when there was serviceable, solid land adjacent to it. There were large rock formations that hung at vantage points above the town. Assailants could easily lob missiles at the denizens from above without fear of reprisal, and it seemed there were no covers or shelters to account for this. A set of planks formed a dock that lead into the river, which was itself unguarded. The current was weak, and at this location the depth was not very much either. It would have been a very simple matter for one to swim under the cover of darkness and bypass the gates and guardians.

 

The female's stride lead to what appeared to be a housing for animals, and she began insistently dragging a large yellow...thing out of it. Presumably it was a bird, but the wings were too short and the legs were far too long. The feathers and beak were noticeable tells but did not give Kasrjin enough information as to exactly the nature of the creature. The female pulled upon the creature's harness until they had made their wars to what was the center of the settlement.

 

The Xaela rotated somewhat to gain a full sense of the settlement. From this central forum area--holding an intimidating length of azure rock framed in brass that rotated upon its axis, the purpose of which Kasrjin could not discern from its appearance--there were three entryways. The bridges would make excellent choke points, and a fourth bridge extended into a large, two-story building that was presumably the center of the settlement, given its towering size over the other buildings. The large building lacked fortifications but the placement of the bridges would allow for a strong phalanx formation to defend it.

 

It seemed the western continent was not completely lacking in the familiar, at the least.

 

The female turned to face him, the first time she had done so since they had entered, and spoke sternly. “Wait here. There are items I must fetch –clothes and other sundries. I will return shortly.” With that insistence, she sauntered off.

 

Waiting in such an open location seemed unwise, but it was not as if Kasrjin knew better. He himself moved towards the rotating structure in order to better examine it. Some parts of it reminded him of Kaarad-El, the way that portions of the structure floated without fixtures or supports. It rotated in a curious fashion, and he reached out to touch it when a voice barked at him from behind him.

 

"Not from around here, I take it?"

 

Kasrjin rotated his head in a robotic fashion. It was a man whose appearance and clothing matched the other denizens of the settlement in genericism and therefore went undescribed by the Xaela's mind. He did not possess a weapon or a pointed hat and therefore held no bearing in one's memory.

 

"No," the Au Ra said in response. The man gestured to the sword upon Kasrjin's back.

 

"That's a mighty fine weapon. Where'd you get it?"

 

Kasrjin gave the man a puzzled look in the same way that one would give a look to a talking tree who suddenly asked where it was planted. "From a weaponsmith."

 

The two stared at each other for a time.

 

"You didn't mind the flowers," the man said, pointing an indignant finger. The Xaela followed where the finger was pointing to give a cursory inspection to the coloured shrubs at the base of the floating blue rock's fixture that seemed to have melted from the impact with his foot. Kasrjin was not sure what response was expected of him, so he merely stared.

 

This continued for a time. The man made a huff and a sigh before leaving awkwardly.

 

Kasrjin turned his head to poke the azure rock.

 

That was odd.

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Perhaps leaving him by himself was not the brightest of ideas. For a man that had killed three people with relative ease, he was not as volatile as she expected. Still, leaving him alone was a risk, but so was bringing him to the Bobbing Cork, potentially. Maybe time alone to enjoy the beauty of Fallgourd would do him some good – he had seemed rather on edge ever since they had come upon the road. So long as he did not wander far, he should be fine. This is not fanatical Ishgard, Edda reminded herself, nor home.

 

Her room was on the second floor of the inn on the north side of the building, overlooking the lake and waterfall. Edda made her way up the stairs as quickly as she could. She hissed as her ankle protested its continued use and gripped the railing tightly. Rather than let it go, it would be better to take care of it now. Limping the rest of the way, she continued to her room and sat down on the bed to remove her boots. Her ankle was red and swollen with pain. Edda frowned at it in disapproval. It was not a serious injury, only irritated, but for such a minor sprain to be so painful was an annoyance, if not embarrassing.

 

The woman put a hand to her ankle and furrowed her brow in concentration. It was a trial, to do it in this way. Healing from within still felt more natural to her, but there was insistence from many in Gridania that she cease to – for reasons she both understood, and did not. Edda closed her eyes and concentrated. Do it right. A cool sensation spread throughout her ankle, the pain dulling and melting away. Huffing a sigh, she leaned back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling as the spell took effect. That she should be crippled in this manner was disgraceful.

 

Once the pain had resided and the swelling had gone down, Edda stood and began to undress. A warm bath usually awaited her when she returned from her walks, but there was no time for such luxury now. Her skin felt thick, covered in grime and sweat. A change of clothes would be little help, and so she imagined the long bath that lay in her future and began to change. She dressed for the cold – an intricate white coat and hood lined with fur, warm tights and long boots made for the snow. The woman looked about the room in thought. She did not have many belongings here, only those sent from home by retainers, and other miscellaneous items she had purchased while in Gridania.

 

Edda knelt in front of a large trunk that sat at the end of the bed, and began to dig through it. Most of the items within she had never used, and began to pull out what seemed useful. A small, but heavy tent with a bed roll and blankets. An empty leather wineskin and a pouch of dried meats that had been pushed on her by a merchant in the city. Edda frowned at a rolled up map of the Black Shroud and Coerthas regions, out of date for six cycles now. Closing the trunk, she bustled about the room for a variety of other objects. Warming potions, a rain cloak and a paltry sum of gil.

 

She had learn how to pack efficiently at a young age, and the woman managed to fit most of her items in a large knapsack that appeared as if it had never once been outside. Satisfied with her selection, Edda began to lug her equipment out of her room and back down the stairs. The Xaela could be seen at the plaza as she left the inn, and she sighed in relief. He had not wandered far at all.

 

“Any trouble?” Edda asked as she approached, now without a noticeable limp. She scanned the area to find nothing out of the ordinary. It was an eerily quiet day in Fallgourd, but no less peaceful for it. The woman began loading her tent and bag onto her chocobo’s saddle with machine-like practice as she gazed at the man. He seemed quite curious and engaged with the aetheryte. Was this his first time seeing one? It was a bizarre thought to Edda, but one that made her smile in amusement as she tightened the straps on the saddle.

 

“Are you alright?” She did not wait for an answer and instead rephrased the question, still smiling.

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While his transient companion made herself busy with her retrieval of items, Kasrjin had occupied himself with examining the town from the vantage point of the settlement's central forum and examining the curious rock that levitated at its hub. The occasional passersby would glance at him curiously, but besides the man from before none had approached him. The settlement itself quickly exhausted the remainder of Kasrjin's interest, which had been invested fully into the floating azure formation.

 

The more he gazed at the structure, the more it intrigued him. The rock formation was rough cut and housed in brass; the way it levitated and rotated meant it was clearly arcane in nature. The Xaela had placed his forehead against it and closed his eyes briefly, and confirming his suspicions was a certain telltale feeling--albeit a minuscule one--of that paradoxical cross between a low hum against one's skin and suddenly sticking one's hand into boiling water. However, the familiarity of the sensation felt...wrong. It was too refined, and too artificial. While Kasrjin's perceptions of it had at least a passing similarity, everything else about the energy felt foreign. Another cursory inspection of his surroundings failed to reveal any of the peoples wearing pointed hats that may have been able to answer his inquiries, and the Au Ra stepped away from the formation.

 

Still, what exactly was the purpose of this structure? The brass of the formation and its position in the hub of the town allowed a few theories to form in the Xaela's mind. Perhaps it was merely a symbol of cultural importance, or they utilised its energy in some way that was not obvious from its appearance alone.

 

In any case, the Tsenkhai's suspicions were at least partially correct. Though its form was twisted and warped beyond almost all recognition, something that bore a vague resemblance to the Correspondence was present upon the western continent. That was one question that had been handily answered. Though the energy's nature he had yet to understand, it was progress.

 

The Xaela was lost in thought, hands straight down at his sides when the corner of his eye caught the presence of someone approaching him--the female who had brought him into town, this time brandishing a large knapsack upon her shoulders. Her gait had straightened considerably, suggesting that the injury she had suffered was healed, or at least sufficiently cared for such that it did not significantly impact her rate of movement. Many of the larger items she had begun to fasten to the feathered bird creature whose presence Kasrjin had completely failed to keep track of.

 

"Any trouble?" the female asked. A smile was creasing her face, for some reason.

 

She received a confused frown from the Au Ra for her efforts.

 

As if sensing his inability to comprehend such a nonspecific query, the female asked a different question that seemed similar in intention and tone, though only somewhat less confusing in its wording. "Are you alright?" She was still smiling in a fashion that had begun to cause the austere Xaela some small measure of discomfort. Kasrjin went down a brief mental checklist in order to evaluate the nature and purpose of the question. She should be able to infer based on his appearance and movements that he was at least visibly uninjured. If the female had intended to ask as to the status of his mental health, she would have specifically asked such a query, so therefore by asking this question of "are you alright", the female must not have intended to ask about that. The word "alright" had a definition that could be loosely interpreted based on the context, and she presumably was not inquiring as to the nature of directions in terms of left and right. Was she asking him what he wanted?

 

He followed up with a sentence spoken in a rather stiff, mechanical fashion. "I wish to comprehend this land's social conventions as we travel," Kasrjin stated bluntly in a fashion that he was rapidly becoming more comfortable with. He'd refrained from such questions before out of thin consideration, but now was not the moment to be prancing around about conversation practices. While they were making their way to their destination, he would obtain information he needed in order to perform the function he had been assigned in the most efficient manner possible.

 

The Xaela spun around a few times to gain his bearings before looking straight at the female again, noting her height as he had to practically gaze at his navel in order to examine her properly. "We are going to...Cur-this? Is this the name of the destination I am bound for?"

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The man was tense, that much was certain. Whether it was the new surroundings that put him on edge, or herself, Edda did not know. Perhaps this was the natural demeanor of his clan. It would surprise her, but it was not her place to make judgments about a people she did not understand. Her lips pursed and the smile faded from her face.

 

“Yes, we are to head west, to Coerthas,” Edda said. She looked away from him and reached into a side pocket in her satchel. The contents were stuffed with krakka root, which she began to feed to the rather eager bird. “As for whether or not that is your destination… It is the only region on this continent that matches your description of snow and mountains. The Highlands are vast. If you have a specific heading, or goal, it would be wise to say so.”

 

She looked back to the Xaela with a sober expression. The chocobo nudged her shoulder for more feed, and she absently stroked its beak while examining the man. It seemed strange, to be so eager to head to land he could detail in the most nondescript way imaginable. Wherever he was from, it seemed too far a distance to hunt or trade. Edda had little knowledge of the dark-scaled Auri. That they were tribal, primitive, and a warmongering people was all she had gleaned from the library at home. He had displayed some sophistication in bartering his services, so traveling to Coerthas for such crude reasons as sport or glory seemed unlikely.

 

Edda snapped her gaze away from the man, and motioned vaguely for him to follow. She pulled the bird along at a slow pace and headed towards the west gate.

 

“As for your previous question,” she began. She kept her eyes straight ahead and her voice low. “I will answer whatever questions you may have to the best of my ability. Feel free to ask however you like. Do keep in mind that some things cannot be taught through word alone, however.”

 

The woman glanced at him briefly over her shoulder, before facing away to sigh. She was far from the best candidate to teach a foreigner the customs of the common man. Though she fought it as best she could, Edda was well aware of her stringent and frigid nature. Taking cues from her would only worsen the Au Ra’s current demeanor, if anything. He would need to meet people that knew freedom and laughter, and experience that warmth for himself. She could teach him only in the way a book could – she could not give him experiences that were not meant for her.

 

The two passed out of the western gate with little trouble. The scenery was far different here despite its proximity to the woods, with only a few spattering of trees against the hard, barren earth. Night would fall soon, and though Edda had packed a small lantern, now dangling on the side of the saddle, the cover of clouds might render it too dark to continue. The road to Dragonhead was notoriously dangerous, though she felt more at ease than she would have if she were alone. The Xaela still had his sword, and presumably had enough experience to be able to fight in dim light.

 

Edda reached into her back pocket to slip on a pair of black gloves. It was not much colder yet, but she knew how volatile the weather could become in the mountain pass. She glanced at the man briefly. Would he be warm enough? The furs he wore certainly looked thick, but the skin exposed at his shoulder was concerning. He did not seem the type to complain, however. Edda wrapped her hood closer around her face, and made a mental note to ask later as they continued on.

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Kasrjin curled the corner of his lip in contemplation. Coerthas. This was where the snow and mountains of the western continent was located. Apparently it was located further to the west, which was...the Au Ra spun his body around several times in an odd display of attempting to gain his bearings. He still couldn't tell which way was north inside this blasted forest, even within the settlement. The low elevation that the settlement afforded, being on top of a river, did not allow him to discern any visible mountain ranges either.

 

He had little choice, then, but to trust in the female. So far she was adhering to his request, and in exchange the Xaela would be expected to fight for her. This was a permissible arrangement, though the bartering of services was a concept that was still a little odd to him. So long as he managed to reach the region of this "Coerthas", he could narrow his search from there into something more. In addition, Kasrjin made a mental note to make a request for a compass when obtaining such an item became amenable.

 

As for Highlands...that must have been another region. He merely shook his head silently when the female asked for a specific heading. Truth be told, Kasrjin had not planned that far, but instinct had made the suggestion that he would know where to go when he reached the area he should search.

 

It was with some good fortune that the pair were not accosted by any other delays as they left the settlement, and the masked warriors left them unmolested. It was to be presumed that they had yet to find the trio of corpses that Kasrjin had left behind, and it was unlikely that the green-clad guardians would hear his appeal for arbitration. Though the Xaela felt confident in his ability to handle multiple combatants to a certain degree, fighting and violence in general was often a very inefficient course of action that took both time and energy, both of which Kasrjin wished to contribute towards his search.

 

As they left the settlement's gate, he took note of an enormous, broken piece of stone that hung high in the air. It was visible even from within the town, marked with elaborate lines and designs, and it was larger than any other structure the Xaela had seen. Though Kasrjin kept pace with his guide and her yellow bird, a part of him was terribly curious about it, though he'd refrained from asking questions that were irrelevant to what he'd asked before so as to avoid confusing the female. The terrain of this area was also marred and broken, like a battlefield. The towering trees and canopies that had so thoroughly covered the forest floor was gone, replaced by cliffs and rocks. Clearly, something had happened here to cause this area to differ so greatly from that infuriating forest he'd recently occupied.

 

The sun gradually sank beneath the horizon, giving way to the chilled veil of night. The terrain the pair trod upon began to slope upwards, signifying that they were closer to where they wished to reach, and the walls began to narrow into a mountain pass of bluffs and crags. Kasrjin noted the female pulling her garments closer to her and donning a pair of gloves; it was a reasonable assumption that her peoples were not as acclimated to the cold. On the other hand, this temperature was considerably more comfortable to Kasrjin. He'd always had a particular distaste for the heat, and the ventures that required travelling to the southern steppes always earned a measure of disdain from him. Even so, he would need to be cautious; it would be foolish to assume that the climate of the western continent would so readily match that of the Othardian glaciers and tundra, and though the Xaela was comfortable with frigid conditions, he was also acutely aware of the dangers. If the temperature dropped much lower, they would need fire, or at the least keep moving in order to maintain adequate warmth. The pair's travel was mostly silent. Though Kasrjin's request was to obtain information while they travelled, the Au Ra was content with examining the environment of the fabled western continent for now.

 

A shroud of smoky clouds covered the sky above them, and hard dirt soon gave way to patches of frozen soil. Kasrjin began idly flexing and unflexing his hands so as to keep the blood flowing in case he required rapid movement from them. The leather wrapped around the handle of his sword would prevent frost from building upon it, but it would be unwise to make the assumption that this route was completely safe.

 

"A camp is required soon," the Xaela spoke aloud to the slim female figure slightly ahead of him. He could not accurately gauge how far they had travelled, but the region had noticeably transitioned into one far more inhospitable than the idyllic forest. "And I would use the opportunity to ask you for information." He made a short trot to stand ahead of the female; though they had yet to reach the snowline, the drifts would inevitably prove to be a hazard. It would be more practical for the taller Au Ra to lead and thus carve a path, but to do so would require him to gain a sense of direction from the female. The wind was gentle and thus there was no present threat of a blizzard, but as the temperature dropped lower and the remaining light vanished over the horizon, Kasrjin's face twisted in consternation. The mountains at night were as deadly a foe as any number of black ones.

 

As if the mountains themselves heard Kasrjin's wish for convenience, a small, rocky outcropping, shielded on three sides by crags and boulders, presented itself some distance away. Instinctively, he reached his left arm out, the shoulder unguarded by the leathers and furs, and firmly grasped the female's shoulder, practically dragging her with sheer force and an inability to comprehend social conventions, to the outcropping.

 

Releasing her, Kasrjin exhaled. "Suitable," was the only word he said.

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The road to Coerthas was clear enough. It was not a heavily used road, moreso now by adventurers than caravans, but the lack of vegetation and cold preserved it in a way that only heavy snow could cover it altogether. Edda sighed in relief. Her poor sense of direction would not be compromised this way, and fear of starvation and freezing quickly became an afterthought.

 

Edda huddled close to her chocobo as she walked. Gullinbursti she called him, a strong name that ill-suited the beast. He had been trained by her uncle to sense danger from wild animals, and flee at a moment’s notice, preferably with Edda in tow. This did not always work, much to her chagrin, and found the chocobo more likely to bolt at the sound of an uncorked bottle than the howl of a wolf. Still, it was a safer bet than clinging to her scaled companion, and the large bird was a nice source of heat.

 

As night began to fall, the woman fell into a slight daze as she continued walking. It had been a very long time since she had trekked this far. “A camp is required soon. And I would use the opportunity to ask you for information.” Edda snapped to attention and looked over her shoulder, only to find the Xaela already beside her and moving to walk in front of her. She jumped in surprise. The journey so far had been eerily quiet, and the sudden noise and movement set her heart pounding.

 

No sooner had she put a hand on her chest to calm herself did the man suddenly grab her roughly by the shoulder and pull her aside. Edda sputtered as he did so, losing her grip on the reigns, the chocobo following out of instinct. He released her quickly, and the woman reached up to absently rub the shoulder he had grabbed, and pouted at the ground. “Suitable,” was his apparent reasoning for his actions, and Edda shot him a sharp glare before looking around.

 

It seemed like a good place to camp, as if she were anyone to judge. She could count on one hand the number of times she had slept outside. If the Au Ra – who seemed as if he had never once slept on a soft bed in his life – thought it was a suitable stopping point, then she had little choice but to comply. Fetching the tent and blankets, Edda frowned, realizing she had never assembled a tent before. She had seen them, surely, in the Shroud and outside Ul’dah in the refugee encampments. Putting one together seemed an entirely different beast, however.

 

She cast a sidelong glance to her companion, and thought it best to ignore him while he did whatever it was he thought necessary to camp in unfamiliar wilderness. Perhaps if she took little notice of him, he would do the same for her, and would not witness her embarrassing fumbling with the tent. Edda managed to wrestle the construct to the ground next to a large boulder. It was small, thankfully, the framework of it being simple enough. She grabbed a small rock to hammer the pegs into the hard earth, and managed to stand it up in a dilapidated manner. She unrolled the mat and heavy blankets within. Despite its sad appearance, Edda stood and looked upon the tent in quiet triumph. It would do for the night, barring any sudden, strong gusts.

 

The woman fetched her knapsack from atop Gullinbursti and set it in the back of her tent. She withdrew a few items – a comb, the out-of-date map, two warming potions and another tincture of nondescript function. Edda sat at the entrance of the tent, her feet and head poking out of the front flap, and facing the center of the small outcrop. She toyed idly with the two potions in her hands. It would be impolite not to offer him one, and so she sat and watched him, awaiting an opportunity.

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He examined their surroundings as the female rustled through her belongings. The gentle bite of the cold breeze caressing his face brought a sense of familiarity so intimate that it was almost dangerous his mind. This was followed by a brief shake of the head, and a swift, practiced refocusing on the task at hand.

 

The onset of night brought about more inclement conditions, and a mild snowfall had begun, though it was barely noticeable as they had not yet reached a suitable elevation for drifts to build. The Xaela's viridian eyes shimmered as the remaining daylight evaporated to give way to an inky veil. He inhaled deeply, partaking of the air's frigid draught. The outcropping would provide an adequate aegis from the frost and the wind; several boulders seemed to have been strategically placed by a rockslide that had taken place within the last moon, if the displaced dirt near their new campsite was any indication. It was tucked away with a small bluff serving as an overhang, and it seemed that the crag as a whole was relatively isolated enough to be considered mostly safe. They were not terribly far from the road, but if the cloud cover maintained itself, then it would be difficult for one to spot them here.

 

Kasrjin turned his head to note the female having set up a ramshackle structure devised of refined leather, presumably a sort of personal dwelling. He gave a slight nod in approval; the female's slender and unmarred appearance belied one in accepting that she could survive in wilderness, but it seemed that she had obtained adequate preparation.

 

This was to be expected, to an extent. She was familiar with this continent. It would stand to reason that, knowing the geography, she would know what to prepare depending on where she was travelling. The Au Ra himself was rather comfortable despite the wintry conditions, even with the exposure that his tunic failed to cover. The temperatures were not overly harsh, though that was likely to change the farther up they went.

 

Having surveyed the area enough to his liking, Kasrjin retreated into the outcropping, undoing the straps to the harness that held his sword in place. The austere Xaela silently sat, his back against a straight surface that marked one of the boulders facing the road, his position somewhat left to that of the female's personal structure. He placed his sword such that the handle rested against his collarbone, the crossguard of the weapon residing beneath his chin, and the tip sunken into the dirt.

 

It was when Kasrjin settled himself into his position that he noticed the female handling two glass vessels and eyeing him curiously. That was a natural reaction, now that the Au Ra thought about it. He was a stranger to this land, having encountered one another barely a sun ago, and now bartering services such that the he might reach his destination.

 

He merely stared back, unaware of how hard his gaze was upon her. There were many questions he wished to ask the female regarding this land. A part of him desired the presence of Tsanai in this circumstance; she had already traveled to this land once, and she would have surely been capable of sorting through the other female's responses to discern the useful information, in addition to asking the questions that would obtain that information in the first place.

 

There was little subtlety or grace in the Xaela's speech as he spoke suddenly, his deep voice still containing that paradox of smooth gravel. "In what manner will I be fighting for you, and against what or whom?" It had been Kasrjin's mind since they'd enacted the bartering of services. The female had already begun acting in her capacity as his guide, but he had yet to provide an equitable return for such a transaction.

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There was an intensity in his look that made Edda squirm. To see him roost so easily was unsettling. He was quite unlike the heroes in the adventure novels she had read as a young girl, and she felt somewhat betrayed in her expectations of seeing a hardened frontiersman make camp in the brutal, masculine ways she had read about. Building a fire, hunting game, cutting open a wild antelope and burrowing inside it for warmth - whether or not such feats were greatly exaggerated, the lackadaisical display of the Au Ra left her both wondering and disappointed. He clearly had no mind to commandeer her tent, but would he be warm enough? Perhaps this climate was more agreeable to him, yet it was no secret that body temperature dropped during rest, and no warrior could fight a death of cold. Edda frowned. It would be embarrassing for him to die in such a way, more so for him than anything, though whether or not he intended to stay there for the rest of the night was unknown.

 

The woman peered at him through the darkening night, meeting his inquisitive gaze. The question he posed was far more personal than she had expected, and found it difficult to answer straight away. The dim light of his green eyes stood out against his dark skin, and Edda suddenly felt very nervous. Eager to escape the sensation, she stood suddenly, and approached him with a few hesitant steps. She held the two vials in front of her in both hands, before squatting down and placing one on the ground within arms reach. She looked him in the eye and did not speak in a wordless offering. 

 

To demonstrate that it was not poison, Edda uncorked and drank the contents of her small bottle in one go. It had a sour, burning taste, like her father's brandy mixed with old milk. She grimaced, but it did not take long for the aftertaste to fade. The effects were immediate; a warm, tingling sensation spread from her chest down to her fingertips and toes, warding her body against the cold from the inside out. She had little knowledge of alchemy, but enough to know the potion was more relief than an aid. Its effects were not unwelcome however - the liquid heat that ran through her felt like a small luxury in the harsh wilderness.

 

"I will not be redeeming your services right away - if I do at all," Edda began. She slipped the empty vial into a satchel at her hip and walked over to Gullinbursti. "If I have need of you in the future, I will seek you out. There is a single, solitary person I would have... removed, before they can do more harm. I doubt there will be much of a fight, however." She giggled softly at the thought, before her expression darkened substantially. Though she spoke with aplomb, there was a wavering in her tone, as if she was sure, but saddened.

 

Edda retrieved the unlit lantern from her chocobo's saddle, before turning around to face the Xaela. "Perhaps," she began, with a curious spark in her eye. "You should tell me your name, before you ask any more questions." This was, of course, assuming his people had names, a practice that did not extend to every tribe of Auri, as she understood it. It was an innocuous question, at least in Eorzea, and she hoped the presumption that the solemn man had any reason to give his name would not offend him.

 

Heading back to stand in front of her tent, she gave the man what she hoped was an encouraging smile, before lighting the lantern with a small flame from her fingertip. More a parlour trick than actual thaumaturgy, the flame settled in the lantern, and was enough to illuminate the outcropping so that they would not have to speak in total darkness. She set the lantern down and hesitated, before casting the man a hard glance. Was he really going to stay like that? Would he truly be warm enough? If he made no motion to move after his questioning was done, she would have to offer him something then. Until that time, there was little reason to, and so she resumed her original seating at the mouth of her tent.

 

"For what it is worth," she said as she placed a hand on her chest. "You can call me Edda, if it suits you."

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The Xaela eyed the female curiously as she placed a mysterious bottle in front of him before withdrawing a similar vessel and downing the contents easily. Kasrjin wasn't entirely certain of what to make of the display or the offering he had been given. Was he expected to imitate the gesture? Was the bottle placed at its arbitrary location for a reason, or was it intended to be an offering to him? If the female had meant to give the bottle to him, it stood to reason--at least to Kasrjin, to whom the word "subtlety" was often spelled with six numbers and a hyphen--that she would have simply handed it to him instead. It seemed that the female would be more conducive towards answering his questions about social customs, but it was impossible for him to gauge what was and was not an appropriate occasion to ask such questions.

 

Judging by the way her facial features creased, it seemed she was still apprehensive about him, which was not an unreasonable reaction. The female retreated to her bird. "I will not be redeeming your services right away - if I do at all," she said. Kasrjin frowned. The purpose of the transaction was to trade one service for another, but it seemed the female had little intention of completing the trade. It seemed there were many more nuances to the concept that he was unaware about.

 

"If I have need of you in the future, I will seek you out. There is a single, solitary person I would have... removed, before they can do more harm. I doubt there will be much of a fight, however." The female's expressions following her statement were peculiar; she chuckled before being overcome by an irrepressible grimace, almost a scowl.

 

The Xaela dismissed the oddity of the sequence. The western continent was vastly different in expressions and interactions. This was simply one of many things that confused him, and it was sure to not be the last.

 

At the inquiry of his name, the response was automatic. "Khadai," the Au Ra said simply. It was extremely unlikely that there were any other Khadai present, or that they would make themselves present in the near future. Thus, giving her his personal identifier would be superfluous and confusing, such was his reasoning.

 

It was with vested interest, however, that Kasrjin witnessed the female conjure a flame from nothing to light a lantern. His eyes widened, and the Xaela shot a glance to the top of her head to see if there was a pointed hat. The lack of one caused him to frown; though he did not sense anything of the sort, and though she did not seem to have prepared the appropriate materials or experience the manifestations, it seemed to be a minor form of the Correspondence. He would have to confirm if it was truly similar or if it was something of a different nature. That would wait after his preliminary inquiries.

 

The female--who adhered to the label of Edda, though if it was a title, a name, or something else was beyond him--looked at him inquisitively, as if expecting his inquiries. Though Kasrjin was still uncertain of the continent's social cues, perhaps this was worth the plunge. He pursed his lips in thought. It would be foolish to assume that the female--that is, Edda--was all that familiar with this "Coerthas" region. She was capable of guiding him there, presumably, but that did not mean she had the requisite knowledge. While it would not hurt to make sure, it would be more efficient to ask questions he felt had a higher chance of being answered as opposed to making queries in subjects that his guide may or may not be familiar with.

 

"I wish to know the masked warriors," he began, adjusting his posture. The cool temperatures were rather comfortable, even with the exposed segments of his garments, and so long as he guarded himself from the wind it seemed to be of little threat. "I was attacked without provocation. I wish to avoid such confrontations in the future." It was with a twinge of regret that he remembered having to discard the venison, for they would not have dried quickly enough for him to store them.

 

"In addition, I wish to gain knowledge of the western continent's practical social conventions. The nuances escape me. I may have cause to interact with others and desire to be self-sufficient in such circumstances." Kasrjin's words felt awkward and out of place to him. He tried to communicate as clearly as possible--once again, Tsanai's absence made itself acutely aware to the Xaela--and his uncertainty in his words manifested itself in a frown upon his face. "I do not wish to cause discomfort upon others, but I require information on subjects. Inform me of the etiquette to perform such a task."

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There was little surprise that he did not drink the vial. In any other instance, Edda would have considered it rude, but he seemed to be lacking in common manners, and she supposed he seeked to rectify that in his own way. It was admirable. A shadow of doubt still lingered in her mind, but there would be no harm in humoring him for now.

 

"The masked warriors were the Wood Wailers," Edda began, addressing his first question. "They protect the Black Shroud, the forest in which you were lost. The citizens of the Shroud follow a certain set of rules - they must follow these rules. The Wood Wailers apprehend those who do not, and thus protect the forest."

 

The woman looked him steadily in the eye with a sharp look, an apprehensive curiosity. "I do not know what it is you did, but doubtless it was something illegal. I will not lecture you of the laws of that region, but know most confrontation can be avoided by dropping your weapon and surrendering yourself. You would be imprisoned, but at least you would not be hunted as a wanted killer."

 

She paused, and thought on his other query. It was less of a question and more of a request than anything, and Edda frowned in thought. "As I said before, social conventions are usually learned, not taught. But, if you insist..." She trailed off, and looked up at the cloudy veil. 

 

"Give your name before you ask things of others. Use phrases such as 'excuse me' and 'please.' Thank people who help you, and bow to those who are gracious to you." She sighed and looked back at Khadai. It would be much easier if he were more specific. Even then, she was far from qualified for this. "It would help you to smile from time to time as well, you know. Like this." Edda gave him a practiced smile, full of gentleness and warmth, a default expression that she had been taught from before she could remember. She waited for the Xaela to try, though she doubted he would.

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Illegal? Then he had broken some manner of principle. Kasrjin had been wandering the forest for several suns unmolested until he had hunted that doe, and lacking in the grace of the Nayantai, he'd made a particularly unsubtle and clumsy affair of it. If the masked warriors, these Wailers, were protectors of the forest, then they kept strict watch over it and its denizens. Seeing an intruder violate its charge would certainly provoke them into attack. Though the doe itself as an individual was relatively insignificant, a lapse in protocol would have been unacceptable, especially if their duty to guard the forest was not self-appointed and placed upon them by a higher authority.

 

The Xaela nodded with his new comprehension of the circumstances. The next set of answers, however, brought nothing but more confusion. What was the purpose of giving one's name prior to making requests if the circumstances did not require specific differentiation between individuals, such as a transaction between two people? To excuse was to forgive or justify. Was it custom to ask forgiveness before a wrong had been committed? Or was it instead a cultural concept that making requests was inherently a malicious act, and thus it was considered an act of immorality that demanded absolvement before it had even taken place? What did the word "please" mean, and in which contexts would it be appropriate? Express gratitude? Bow?

 

Kasrjin's eyes nearly crossed from attempting to process all of this information at once when the female broke out into a smile. It is not as if the concept of such a demeanor was alien to him, but it was not something he was used to. His mouth creased into a rough imitation; the horrid amalgamation of something of a scowl, a smirk, and preparing to open one's mouth to bite the head off of an entire fish. He maintained this for less than a second before dropping it, feeling foolish.

 

"Strange," he murmured, scratching a hand through jet black locks, the motion causing a shake from the streaks of emerald green that ran themselves through his hair. For the third time in a relatively short interval, the Xaela made a fervent wish for Tsanai to make sense of all of these functionless platitudes that the western continent seemed to operate on. It was not as if the Xaela had never smiled or was unused to it, but the act of deliberately forcing it in order to adhere to social conventions seemed incredibly impractical. It seemed best to change the subject of inquiry. No doubt that Kasrjin would have to make extensive time later in order to properly prepare himself for study in these principles.

 

"What is this destination, Coerthas? What is not permitted within such an area?" Kasrjin's question sounded somewhat more eager, having shifted back onto information relevant to his task. He wanted to ask for details, but if he asked for its size he would receive that information in units that did not translate properly to him. "Describe to me the threats, whether they be in the form of storms or beasts. What manner of settlements are present?"

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