Allies and Enemies
"She's a beauty, eh?" Â
Shaelen Stormchild crossed her arms as she stepped up next to him, her face shining with pride. Â
Aylard studied the small ship before him, his deep set eyes squinting under the desert sun. The skiff seemed ordinary to an uncaring eye, but he could see that it was small enough not to attract the attention of pirates, yet well made and weather worn enough to have seen more than its share of voyages through the seas. Peregrine was one of the smaller ships docked in Vesper Bay, but from the way Shaelen spoke of it, one would think none others mattered.
"Is she fast?" He stepped forward onto the dock and turned to face the captain of the ship, the woman he has known since she was a child.
Shaelen arched an eyebrow at him. "Fast? Peregrine here can outrun the best of Limsa Lominsa's battleships! Isn't that right, Shooey?" The woman looked over her shoulder as a tall looming figure came to stand behind her. Â
Aylard glanced to the enormous roegadyn and was greeted with a bright, toothy grin. Aylard knew the dark-skinned roegadyn's chosen name was "Thaliak's Axe," and he preferred to be called "Axe" by his close friends. But Shaelen called him "Shooey" for reasons unknown to the Highlander - a remnant nickname from his past life, perhaps, but Aylard did not know. (Shaelen never said, and Axe wasn't talking about it - mostly because Axe had no tongue and did not talk at all, save for a grunt or growl here or there, or the occasional temperamental roar.)Â
Axe let out an affirmative grunt and nodded in agreement with the Highlander woman who stood in front of him, her head just reaching the roegadyn's midchest level. The old man raised a skeptical bushy brow at both of them. "Faster than a Limsa Battleship. That I have to see to believe." Â
"Well, I only have to prove it if we are caught, ol' man." Shaelen smirked. "And that's the point, isn't it? Â Not to get caught?" Â She stepped toward him, leaning in. "The speed comes from something special. But we will keep that between us, eh?" Â She winked at him, her chestnut bangs falling over her mischievous blue-grey eyes.
Aylard shook his head at her. "You've not changed one bit, lass." He regarded her contemplatively, one hand scratching his bearded chin. "Reckless."
"I prefer ... bold. Or daring!"
"Whrf!" Axe chimed in behind her. It sounded like a purr from a four-hundred ponze coeurl.Â
"Daredevil!" She looked at Axe and gave the roegadyn an agreeing thumbs-up. "I like that one." When he answered her again, this time with a low snarl, she wrinkled her freckled nose. "Kooky madcap? Â Who you callin' kooky?" Axe yowled with laughter, his massive frame bouncing.
Aylard's expression softened, lines appearing around his aged eyes. He had known the two for years, and the friendship they shared seemed unwavering as ever. Â And Shaelen still seemed to be the only one that understood the various noises that came from the tongueless roegadyn. Â "As long as she's fast and gets the cargo where it needs to go, that is all I need to hear."
Shaelen turned back to Aylard, nodding with confidence. "Don't add more worry wrinkles to your forehead, ol' man. Â You can't afford to get any more lines on ya." Her tone was teasing, but there was a hint of affection there. "It'll get there. I am good at what I do."
She was. Aylard knew this already. It was why he sought her out in Ul'dah. Shaelen was no longer with the movement; she had left years ago to chase her ambitions of fortune. But she always had an eye for opportunities, and a knack for getting in and out of places undetected, even when she was young. And now, as a woman nearing thirty winters in age, she had gained a reputation within the underground that she could transport things across the borders of the Empire. This was not a trek many were willing to make. And she charged a near fortune for it.
But this particular cargo was special. A stolen ceruleum core from Northern Thalanan, one so refined that it fit in the palm of Aylard's hand yet held enough energy within that when unleashed it could demolish a large Garlean facility. It would be a powerful weapon for the Resistance. Aylard needed someone reliable to get it back to Ala Mhigo, and Shaelen was the most reliable smuggler he knew. The Resistance would pay the fortune she asked, and gladly so.
"I looked over the papers," she continued. "It should get us through the Flames at the port." Â Shaelen stepped up next to him and shot Axe a pointed look; the massive roegadyn turned to face the center of Vesper Bay, giving them cover behind his broad back. Her voice was kept low, easily drowned out by the vender shouts off the port. "I could have gotten these myself."
"Alabrous could get it faster." Aylard narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening. He always had an uneasy feeling whenever Alabrous Tane was involved, but much like his need for Shaelen Stormchild and her ship, he also needed Tane's unique services. Only difference was that Aylard trusted Shaelen.
"Al?" The highlander woman cocked an eyebrow and gave a snort. "How did you get that slimy spawn of an eft to come back to the fold?"
"He didn't. He's like you, lass. Loyalty bought with gil." That was not entirely true, Aylard would never question Shaelen's loyalty once agreement was made. But he still remembered the day when Shaelen left the cause. And it still stung. Sometimes he had to remind himself he no longer begrudged her for it.
Stormchild paused, her eyes fixed on her ship, her long bangs hiding her gaze from the old man. If she was irked by his words, she hid it well. When she turned back to him, it was with her usual smirk in place. "I hope you didn't pay him the fortune you offered me. He ain't worth it."
Aylard turned his head to the shorter highlander. "He knows what his service is worth. And asked for double." Â
"Ha! He's losing his touch! I would have asked for thrice the amount."
It was the old man's turn to snort. "Aye. Â And I would have paid it." His eyes crinkled with amusement, which was rare. "And I told him so." That sent Shaelen into a fit of laughter, tossing her head back.
"That probably still gnaws at his crotch." She sighed, shaking her head. "Well, he has his contacts alright. The documents are quality. And I looked them over carefully too. Al is always looking to short change people to his advantage, if he can."
Aylard nodded. "He hasn't turned us in yet."
"Probably because you told him you would have paid him more." Shaelen grinned. "You whet his appetite for the next score. Well done, ol' man."
"These papers will get our cargo past the Immortal Flames and out of Thalanan after we will meet up for the exchange," Aylard said, glancing to a lalafell at the nearby vendor table, dark eyes exchanging a look with the merchant there. He glanced behind him to spot a few mercenaries who had approached within earshot. He narrowed his eyes and began to casually walk toward the docks, as if to take closer look at the ocean. Shaelen fell into step behind him without a word although Axe did not. The roegadyn lumbered closer to the group of mercenaries, who were now giving him a wary eye.
"There also has been word that we are being sought after," Aylard said in his low gravelly voice as they reached the end of the dock, the lapping waves drowning out his voice. "There have been inquiries made in Little Ala Mhigo. Someone looking for a father and son."Â
Shaelen bent down at the edge of the pier, squinting her eyes towards the water as if to spot any fish. She pointed at nothing in particular and looked over her shoulder at Aylard. When he bent to his knees, she lowered her voice even more. "Garlean? Or Immortal Flames?"
"I am not sure, lass. It was a Highlander doing the asking, although there were others with him, another Highlander and a Midlander, both women. The cargo is hot. Both would be after it. Although I don't think the Flames have been made aware of it... yet."
"Are you bringing backup for this exchange, just in case?" Shaelen crouched low, her eyes still on the rise and fall of the waves. She rested her elbows on her knees.
"Aye. I have the Ghurns and m'boy, Hroch." Aylard shifted slightly, ignoring the cracking protests from his right knee.
"Ruva Ghurn?" Shaelen raised her brows, turning to him. "He's back in the fold. Huh. I've not met him, but ... I know of him." Aylard remembered how Shaelen liked to know everyone who she was potentially dealing with. "Anyone else?" Â
"And one other. He's capable." Aylard nodded, his deep set eyes squinting again.
"Can we trust him?" Her voice was low but determined. "I need to know this exchange is going to be secure."
"Wolfsong. I knew his family. His blood. I can speak for him." Aylard turned to meet her eyes steadily. She regarded him a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied. They rose together.
Shaelen patted him on the shoulder, flashing him a grin. "Well, good seeing you again, ol' man! As always! You still owe me that tankard of ale! Maybe next time at Black Brush." she said boisterously. He nodded to her and they parted ways.
Aylard remained at the end of the pier until Shaelen rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, Thaliak's Axe soon after. The mercenaries he had spied earlier also seemed to have gone their own way. Reassured that their conversation was not overheard, Aylard began to make his way out of Vesper Bay, returning to Ul'dah. The impending journey back north preoccupied his thoughts, the possibilities of what waited them beyond giving his aging body a burst of excitement. The ceruleum would open many more possibilities to the Resistance, and with the kin of Windmark agreeing to join them on their return back to Ala Mhigo...Â
Old blood would surely call more to their cause. The Windmark name would lend them strength, as would any of the old blood who had stood for Ala Mhigo but had fallen to the wrath of the Tyrant King, or forced to kneel before the might of the Empire. It was time to gather their strength again, to remember the pride that used to run strong in their veins and retake their home.
It was with such hope that Aylard approached Fresca's Wash, the Highlander pausing to squint at the distant horizon as the day was coming to a close. He had not appreciated the beauty of the setting sun for as long as he could remember, and he tried to recall what the last sunset looked like in his homeland.
And it was on the gold and red painted canvas that his attention remained, that he did not notice the long elongated shadow grew next to his from behind. It was only when a purring voice greeted him that he turned, and his eyes widening at the face he saw smiling at him. "Haven't we been busy?" It was not the woman he had expected to find.
"You...!" was the only word that escaped from Aylard before his breath was choked out of him.
