///It had been a few days since the incident. Fanael, for his part, hadn’t the slightest idea why he was still here - Even his wound wasn’t as bad as it had been the last time. And surely they could tell he was a Hanerian, even the simpleminded Catalenans must have been able to realize that; surely they should have noticed and either killed him themselves or tossed him to the monsters to die.
///And yet here he was, huddling between market stalls in the evenings after the shopkeepers had left for the night like a vagrant, slinking around in the shadowy outskirts of the settlement by day, alive as ever, here as he had been since his arrival.
///He rather hated it, to be frank. Being here, surrounded by them... He wasn’t supposed to be here, they weren’t supposed to just let him
live. It was infuriating.
///But then, what other choice did he have? Return to the Hanerians, who had only a few days prior labeled him a traitor and tried to kill him? Yes, because that would go over just
so well. Then if not that, what? Try to survive alone out in the tunnels, among the beasts ten times his size that would see him as easy pickings? Pass. And he’d never be able to get past them to the surface alone, either. He’d been lucky out in the tunnels before, but after that scene, there was no way that twerp or anyone else would be showing up to give him another shot if he ended up half-dead out there again. So, much as he loathed it, this was the only chance he stood at survival. He’d have to take what he could get.
///“Wow, you’re in line early, aren’tcha, pal?” A voice remarked, drawing Fanael from his thoughts and setting him once more on edge - Or at least, moreso than he already was. “Heard about the extra Freezesprite Dust ‘terra found yesterday, eh?” The voice’s owner, he soon realized, was a Catalenan, beige with brown markings and green eyes that were almost, but not quite, the same hue as his lightly-worn jacket, leaning over the counter of the stall to Fanael’s right. Despite his baby face, the scars he bore gave the impression that he must have been around Fanael’s age, perhaps older - Or if not, that he must have seen a battle or two in his time. “Must be one serious mage to be waiting out here at this time of morning. I might even give you a discount for your dedication!” He laughed.
///Fanael huffed. “No thanks,” he replied harshly, rising to his feet and trying unsuccessfully to keep his hackles flat. “I’m a mage, yeah, but I’ve got nothing to offer you. So, pass.”
///“Oh, no? Then what’re ya doing by my shop, if you don’t mind me asking?”
///His shop, Fanael thought.
Right, of course. A merchant, that’s all. “I do mind, actually. Now, if you’ll excuse me-“ He turned to leave, but found himself quickly cut off by the Catalenan.
///“You seem to be in an awful rush, stranger. Hope it’s not for the reason I think it might be,” the merchant said.
///Fanael gave a slight snarl. “If it’s thievery you’re implying, I can assure you I have more honor than anyone in this damned place.”
Do you, though? a voice in his head questioned.
///Bah. He didn’t have time to be dwelling on his recent choices.
///The merchant chuckled. “Quite the feisty one, aren’t you? Not the friendliest, though,” he remarked, glancing him over. “That’s quite the injury you’ve sustained, there.” He gestured to the scabbed-over gash on Fanael’s side. “Care to share how that happened?”
///“...Got into a fight I wasn’t prepared for,” he growled. Not a lie, exactly, but not the whole truth by any means. Hopefully enough to get this guy off his back, though.
///Ah, if only that had been the case. “Hah, I’ve been there!” he exclaimed, a grin on his face. “Nearly lost my ear to a Firesprite back in the day.” He pawed at his torn right was for emphasis. “Decided maybe my talents were better spent elsewhere after that. Like perhaps your talents are better spent finding things of your own, rather than stealing them from others.”
///“I told you already, you dense fool, I didn’t take a damn thing!” Fanael snapped.
///“Sure you didn’t, sure you didn’t,” the merchant remarked, smirking. “Tell you what. If you’re willing to help out at the stall today, I’ll take your word for it and let you go, instead of calling the guards on ya and letting them be the ones to decide if you’re being honest or not.”
///Oh,
joy. There it was. Whatever guards they had, if they were called, that would surely be it for him. He could never win, could he? “Fine,” he hissed.
///The merchant laughed. “Figured that’d be what you said. And hey, if you don’t scare off my customers with that sour attitude of yours, I’ll even have my friend look over that wound of yours and see if there’s anything we can do to help it heal up cleaner.“
///“Great,” he said, tone heavy with sarcasm.
“Can’t wait for that.”///“I’m sure you can’t,” the merchant answered, and Fanael couldn’t tell with certainty whether he was being sincere or mocking. “Name’s Rugan, and you?”
///“None of your business, raggedy-ear.”
///“I see. Well then, Nunya, I suggest you join me behind the counter and help get the store set up for the day.”
///“This is hell. I’m in hell,” Fanael muttered, and followed Rugan into the stall.
///It was a bit after noon when, sick and tired of being called “Nunya” and “Glow-eyes” and “Tie boy”, Fanael gave Rugan his actual name, to which the merchant had simply said, “There, now, was that so hard?”
///“Would it have been so hard for you not to be an obnoxious prick?” he snapped back under his breath. Was this what that kid who’d helped him felt like that whole time? Gods, as if the look on his face as he blasted his attempted killer off of him hadn’t made him feel bad enough about the whole mess.
///Still, as much as he hated being there, it was soon evening, and Rugan smiled down at where he was laying, frustrated and tired, on the floor of the stall. “Hey,” he said, “you made it.”
///Fanael gave him a contemptuous look. “About time,” he grumbled, rising to his feet. “Hearing you ramble on and on about nothing all day to anyone who steps within ten feet of you has been the worst thing I’ve ever experienced, and considering I damn near
died recently, that’s
really saying something.”
///Rugan laughed. “Clearly not cut out for the trading life, are you?”
///Fanael drew back towards the wall of the stall, fighting off the urge to strike, as the merchant patted him on the shoulder. Instead, he simply settled for growling, “Can I go now?”
///“I thought we agreed to have that injury of yours examined after work,” Rugan answered, a gleam in his eye.
///“I didn’t agree to any-“
///“And besides, you haven’t eaten anything all day, have you? All my wares are accounted for, after all.” He gestured around the shop. “Dinner’s on me, if you’re interested.”
///Of course your stuff’s all here, I told you from the moment we met, I’m not a damn thief, Fanael thought bitterly. Still, the Catalenan made a good point. The rations he’d taken for the initial attack on Catalena had long since run out, and though they’d managed well enough for the moment, neither he nor that kid were the best at scraping together anything to eat out in the tunnels. He could use a proper meal, and if this guy was willing to offer it...
///Well, he supposed that being led into an ambush or poisoned would at least be a quicker end to his suffering than slowly starving to death. “Fine,” he said. “But if you pull anything I swear I’ll blast you into pieces so fine they could be used as seasoning.”
///So it was that he found himself
on a rooftop with curious strangers. Rugan’s friend, as it turned out, was a blind cat with starry eyes (in a rather literal sense) and a fellow mage, though less adept than he was, who, after pawing over the gash on his side for the most uncomfortable minute or two of Fanael’s life, mixed up a simple salve and smeared it heavily on his wound.
///“I can’t guarantee it’ll do a lot,” the cat, who was called Suterra, said, “but it should do a little bit for you, at least. Won’t make things any worse, if nothing else.”
///“It better not,” he grumbled. The last thing he needed was for this thing to get infected or something because some cat and his friend insisted on quote-unquote helping him.
///Suterra just laughed. “It won’t, believe me. I might not be a proper apothecary, but even I can mix up something like this without trouble.” They turned to Rugan. “We really should try to find one, though. Would be a literal lifesaver on the road. I don’t suppose you’ve met anyone of the sort?”
///“None who aren’t already involved in other guilds,” he replied.
///“Ah, figures,” they sighed. “What about you, Fanael? Don’t suppose you or anyone you know are particularly good with medicine?”
///“If I knew someone who could treat this thing properly, do you think I’d be
here, being treated by someone I’ve never met and who doesn’t know what they’re doing?” he shot back.
///“...Harsh,” they said, “but fair enough. I suppose with an injury as expansive and fresh as that, you must be a battler?”
///“A mage,” he answered. “Why do you care?”
///They shrugged. “Well, we could always use the extra firepower. Road to the surface isn’t the easiest, after all.”
///The surface...? Where his people had been banished from. They were going to...
///“And besides,” they added, “Rugan mentioned something about you holing up between shops in the market square like a... how did you put it, Rugan?”
///“Like one of those homeless cats who begs for money on the street then spends what they get on golden leaflets and cattails,” he replied, smirking.
///Had they known the gesture, Suterra would have rolled their eyes. “I really don’t think people do that as much as you claim,” they said.
///“Oh, sure they do, you see it all the- well, no, I suppose
you don’t see it, but
I see it all the time.”
///“If you say so,” Suterra said. “Anyway, Rugan said it looked like you were having some trouble making ends meet, like you lost your job and got kicked out of your house or something.”
///They weren’t that far off from the truth, putting it that way.
///“So I was thinking, you’ve obviously seen a battle or two in your time, with an injury like that. And you know how the tunnels can be for cats trying to get anywhere. If you’d be interested, I’d be happy to give you a place to stay and food on the table if you’d be willing to join our guild and lend a paw with those beasts, should it come to that.”
///“...You mentioned something about going to the surface,” he posited.
///“Yes, of course. I’ve lived down here in Catalena my whole life, but I’ve dreamed for ages of seeing the night sky with my own eyes. And I’m not getting any younger, so the sooner I can reach the surface, the more likely I’ll still be able to see them, even just a little bit.” They gazed wistfully... at a rocky cave wall. With a display like that, Fanael doubted they’d be able to see
anything up there.
///And yet...
///He pondered his options. Returning to the Hanerians was a death sentence. So was trying to carve out a life between the beasts in the tunnels. And even having been here without much incident for a few days now, Catalena set him on edge, and it was a pretty sprawling city, but gods forbid he saw that kid again. But the surface... the one place he and his people had been banished from, where neither the Hanerians nor the monsters could reach him...
///“Yeah, alright,” he said. “You give me a place to stay and food to eat, I’ll help you get up above."