The moon shined as bright as the sun in the midnight sky. Crickets chirped in soothing harmony with the rivers flow. Reunion saw it's busiest moments during the day, but the Qestir kept a few traders on hand in the small hours of the evening for the Kagon tribe. These nocturnal Au Ra had wares from nighttime hunts that other tribes found valuable. Among them, a middle-aged Kagon woman looked through weapons for sale. She wore hunter’s garb typical of the Kagon. Lightweight and dark in color, she blended in to catch her prey in silence. She looked around to make sure her daughter followed, though paid little attention. “Chakha, over here!” a man called to her. She walked over to the next stall to find her daughter with a quartz stone bracelet in hand. With her stood the elder Auri man, his face aged by experience and the years spent toiling in the sun. “By the Mother, I swear one day someone is going to take you and I won't come looking!” The little girl recoiled at her mother's words. Chakah took the bracelet, handing it back to the Mol tribesman. “I'm sorry, Amal. It won't happen again.” Amal smiled at Chakha, his wrinkles showing. “It's not any trouble. I'm sure it's hard for you with your husband having passed last winter. One small trinket is hardly a loss.” He kneeled down and held the bracelet out to the girl. “It's alright, you can have it if you like.” The girl looked up at her mother, looking for permission. Chakha scoffed and tugged at the girl's shirt. “I don't have time for this! I have to find a new bow so I can catch up to the hunting party! Niytshade, you stay by me, understood?” Niytshade shook her head, afraid to speak. “Good, let's go!” Chakha carried on, pulling Niytshade. Amal waved goodbye to Niytshade with a somber expression. She waved back, struggling to keep up with her mother's stride.
Chakha stopped at several more stalls, finally finding a suitable weapon. She began to haggle the trade with the stall owner as Niytshade looked around curiously. Her eyes wandered up to the stars. They looked like little jewels in the night sky. Jewels she wanted to make into necklaces for her mother so she would smile again. The child's eyes wandered more from the stars to the aetheryte with its soft blue glow. Beyond the aetheryte, she saw a sparkle in the grass reflecting the light of the crystal like the stars above. She looked around and saw her mother wasn't that far away. If I'm fast, I can catch the star for mommy! she thought. Niytshade quickly jogged as fast as her little feet could carry her to the sparkle. She kneeled to find a silver earring with a blood red ruby in the center. Where's your sister...? she thought. She looked around, spying another tell-tale sparkle. The young child thought of the smile that her mother would have when she brought back the find. She jogged and kneeled at the second sparkle. “Twins!” she called out, holding the earrings together. “Mother will love you!” Niytshade turned around to find Amal behind her. She felt her heart jump at the sight of him. Amal held his hands up, embarrassed. “Don't be frightened, young one, I'm sorry! I couldn't help but notice you were so far from your mother! Let's get you back to her, yes?” Niytshade held the earrings tight in her hands as she followed Amal.
Chakha had finally acquired her tools after a painful argument with an Oronir blacksmith. She packed her arrows in her quiver and called to her daughter as she gathered her things at the edge of Reunion. After a second of silence, she grew nervous. “Niytshade? Damn it all, girl, I told you to stay by me!” she yelled as she walked towards the aetheryte, Her eyes darted from stall to stall looking for any sign of her child. “Help!” she heard weakly. Chakha looked to see Amal bleeding from his gut. Two Qestir guards and an Oronir warrior ran over to the old man's aid. Chakha ran over as well. Amal had been the only support she had after her husband's passing, even despite being from different tribes of the Steppe. “Who did this, Mol?” asked the Oronir warrior. “Foreigners,” Amal answered, coughing blood. “They ambushed me...took the young one I was bringing back to her mother...” He then noticed Chakha standing with them, shocked. Amal went to walk to Chakha but fell. His hemorrhaging was growing fatal. Chakha ran to his side, crying. He handed her a silver earring with a blood red ruby in the center. “I'm....I'm sorry...” he coughed out as blood dripped from his mouth. Chakha was stupefied. The Oronir gathered a pair of his allies and fanned out with a few Qestir men to search for the foreign attackers. Chakha ran back to her pack, took her bow and arrows and joined in on the search.
Niytshade came to in a caravan, laying on a pile of blankets. Her nose burned from whatever substance was on the cloth that was pressed on her face before she fell asleep. “There she goes,” said a gruff voice on the outside of the caravan. He was a tan man with a scar over his right eye. His eye was milky white while the other was so dark it seemed black. His hair was black and short. “She's up then, sire. Have a look.” The gruff man stood aside and a portly one took his spot. The portly man was well-to-do, with a handlebar mustache and rosy cheeks. His eyes lit up at the sight of the little girl. “My goodness, you're a wonderful specimen! If only I could find more of you to take home with me!”
Niytshade looked at him in bewilderment. “Where's my mother?” she asked, still groggy.
“She sent you to me, young one! You're going to see new worlds and have a new life living with me!”
“Why?”
“Oh don't bother yourself with such frivolous details! Come, our boat awaits!”
“What...?” was all the young child could utter as the gruff man hopped inside and carried her out of the caravan. He sat her on a horse as the portly man wrapped a cloak around her neck. “My name is Sir Gunther, and don't you worry! You're going to be fine!” He lifted up a bracelet, shinier and more sparkly than she ever saw in the stalls of Reunion. He had to wrap it around her wrist twice to stay. “And there's more where that came from! You can have all the jewels you could want! You just have to do what I tell you, yes?” Niytshade took a moment to admire the bracelet before nodding her head. “That's a good girl! Off we go!” Sir Gunther walked the horse through a massive city. They crossed a large red bridge before reaching a trader's vessel on the dock. All Niytshade could think about was how she was going to get as many jewels as she could carry to take back home to her mother.
hands: delicate / small / large / square / sturdy / strong / smooth / rough / calloused / elegant / plump / manicured / stubby fingers / long fingers / ragged nails / grimy fingernails / ink-stained / talons (Kept shortish) / long nails
Tagging so you can see where the new blog is!: @jadestormbrand, @divine-ruin, @luli-xiv, @unsteadydragon, @eastern-skies, @garlean-nonsense, @a-pack-of-rabid-owls, @utameiday, @sugisxiv, @rhalgr, @nightmaze, @tempexiii, @lominsan-suncat, @asholanntern, @kaia-wars, @rihqa, @niytshade
Niytshade appreciated the nighttime excursions with Xiran. His knowledge of the city and its history made every night full of history and discovery. Sharing what little they could remember of their old homes in the East helped her feel less lonely. They sat on the same bench in the Sapphire Exchange as the night they met. It was still early in the night as townsfolk walked about the market. She wore a cloak with a large hood, careful not to be noticed. Xiran sat with a sleeveless shirt over black pants and boots. “One day you'll be able to walk around without that hood. The people are already used to me, I'm sure another Au Ra wouldn't be a shock at this point,” Xiran said, noticing how Niytshade adjusted her hood often. “It's not their reactions that concern me. Some of these people could be Gunther's clients. The last thing I want is for him to find out I'm gallivanting with you,” she replied.
“What, worried he'll retaliate and throw you in the basement?”
“No, you need the work. He'd never trust you and I'd never see you again.”
Xiran lifted an eyebrow. Niytshade blushed and looked to the floor. “You're my only friend. I don't want to lose you.”
Xiran smiled and nudged Niytshade with his elbow. “No worries, lass. I'm not going anywhere right now.”
“And when you decide to go to the Steppe?” Niytshade responded sadly.
“You're coming with me, of course.”
“Sir Gunther won't just let me leave, you know.”
“I'm well aware, and I have a plan!”
Niytshade tilted her head at Xiran, listening. “Well, I'm sure you can imagine Gunther is a man that tries to recoup his losses, and if you decided you wanted to leave he would want a return on his investment, so to speak. So...if I started fighting again I could build up a substantial sum to help you with that.”
Niytshade gasped at the idea. “No, Xiran, I can't let you do that for me! You took up being a doorman at the brothel to stop fighting. You even said Johan was glad to see you find something more steady and less arduous!”
Xiran leaned back on the bench and sighed. “I know, I know...but there's been an itch these last few months. It's like my soul...misses it. In essence, I'd be doing it more for me than you, but I'd be helping you anyway so it's two birds with one stone!”
Niytshade sighed in exasperation. “I swear, you're so hard-headed.”
“Well, my father was Ala Mhigan, so that's probably why.” Xiran put a hand on Niytshade's shoulder. “I'll be fine. I even took some side jobs for Gunther so that I wouldn't be fighting all the time. In two days he's going to take a caravan out to Byregot's Strike for an archaeological dig he funded. Rumors say there are zombies and worms out there, so they'll need protection.”
“Well I suppose that's better than being in the Coliseum,” she agreed reluctantly. “When is your next fight?”
Xiran straightened up in his seat. “Tomorrow night. In my absence, a new gladiator has risen pretty quickly. They say she's lethal with a sword and shield.”
“Do you know her name?” Niytshade asked with a twinge of concern
“Skylar McCloud! Get moving young lady or you'll be late to your interview with the Mythril Eye!” The shout rang through the miqo'te's ears like a lightning bolt. Skylar shot up from her pillow as if it were on fire and rushed to her door. “Oh gods, I can't go out naked!” She dressed in a loose long sleeve gray shirt she usually used for sparring and tight brown pants with boots. She looked in the mirror and fixed her dark red hair. Her deep blue eyes darted over every detail of her clothing. She reapplied her favorite red lipstick before rushing down the stairs of the tiny apartment she shared with her mother. “Thank you, mum, I'd be lost without you!” she quickly blurted as she passed by the washroom where her mother was toiling over a suit of light armor. “Uh-uh, come back here!” her mother called out, walking out of the washroom. Skylar walked back and gave her mother a tight embrace. “Your father would be proud,” her mother whispered. Skylar kissed her mother's cheek. “Thanks, mum. I'll be back later!” Skylar jogged down the narrow alley onto the Sapphire Exchange. She turned and entered the side entrance of The Quicksand. Skylar was waved down by a Midlander woman in the sitting area. Skylar sat with her, smiling and excited. “Glad to see you again, Miss McCloud. Thank you for agreeing to meet for an interview on such short notice!”
“Oh, it's fine, Ada! After your last piece on me got me so noticed, how could I say no?”
“Please, you're too modest! Your skills alone got you noticed well before we did an interview on you. So, from rags and quickly climbing to riches, how does it feel to know that you're on the cusp of greatness in the Coliseum's halls?”
Skylar couldn’t keep from smiling. “It's amazing! Knowing that I can be a great name like Raubahn Aldyn is something I never thought I'd actually achieve when I started. It's made things a lot easier at home with my mother.”
Ada's tone shifted from light-hearted to serious. “As you prepare for your bout tonight, what's going through your mind?”
“That I stay focused and prepared. Every opponent is a chance to get better!”
“But many are saying you've never faced an opponent like this!”
“It doesn't matter who the opponent is! I go in ready to fight and if I do down, I go down swinging!”
“Wonderful! I'm sure the audience with be thrilled to see it! However, you've got to be curious because I know I am; what do you think it is about you that made the Demon of the East come out of retirement?”
“I don't know, but I hope he's every bit the Demon I've seen when I would watch him fight. He's what inspired me, you know!”
The roar of the crowd sent chills down Xiran's spine. He could feel the energy of the people in the stands. Their lust for battle putting goosebumps on his skin. He was kneeling in the dressing room, meditating to clear his mind. His black, sleeveless vest was snug but didn't deter his movement. His pants were loose and comfortable, perfect for kicks. His boots were the same he wore into every fight, worn and broken in to allow for the best use of speed. He wore a pair of black Thavnarian gloves Niytshade gave him on their last outing. His fingertips rubbed against the fine material of the palm as he clenched his fists. The door of the dressing room opened and a familiar voice spoke. “Are you ready, boy?”
Xiran smiled at Johan's crass demeanor. “Always, old man.” Xiran stood and walked out.
Across the arena, Skylar finished strapping on her armor. Its blue shine was clean and flawless thanks to her mother's work. Skylar was excited and nervous. She had watched The Demon fight many times leading up to his final bout with Raubahn and wondered how she would fare against the man that stopped The Bull in his tracks. She took a deep breath as she triple checked her armor. Her mother had never seen Skylar be so meticulous. “If you tighten those straps any further, they'll break!” She lightly slapped Skylar's hand and handed over Skylar's sword. “This is what you need to worry about. Focus on your opponent, learn his movements-”
“And go in the for the win, just like Father would.” Skylar's heart raced with anticipation as she spoke. Skylar took her sword and picked up her shield from its stand. The door to the room opened and an attendant walked in. “Skylar, we're ready for you. M'Irena, you can follow me to the VIP area.” M'Irena gave Skylar a kiss on the forehead. “Good luck!” she said as she followed the attendant. Skylar walked to the arena, the roar of the crowd growing louder.
At the gate, she heard the crowd hush as the announcer took to the center of the ring. He spoke slowly, raising everyone's hairs as he spoke. “Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to a very special main event! New blood seeks to reign supreme, while a former brawler comes to reclaim his glory of the ring! At the north gate...” The gate in front of Skylar sprung open.
“One of our newest, and most enticing combatants! She has a cute tail but every inch of her is dipped in brawn and ready to take down anyone that would underestimate her strength! The Pretty Cat of the City, Skylar McCloud!” Skylar walked out as the crowd cheered wildly. She held her shield up as she walked, focused on the gate across from her. This is it... she thought.
“And, at the south gate...a man that came from beyond the horizon. He walked into this ring with nothing but his knuckles and a fierce gaze. The only man to ever win without picking up a sword and one of the few to trade blows with The Bull of Ala Mhigo and remain standing! He is The Bare Knuckle Brawler! The Demon of the East! Xiran Rayne!” The south gate sprung open. Xiran stepped out with fists clenched. His lips pursed tight and his eyes trained on Skylar. The crowd exploded in cheer and Xiran heard none of it. He had one objective, and she stood in blue armor. Skylar took a quick few breaths and took to her stance. Shield in front, sword to her side and ready. Xiran moved his right foot behind him. His right hand by his face left extended and clenched. Skylar could swear she saw flames licking his hands. The announcer looked to each of them excitedly. “Combatants are ready!” He took a moment of pause and screamed out.
“Fight!”
Xiran's feet exploded with electricity, charging forward. Skylar scarcely brought her shield up to block his hit. The impact pushed her backward, kicking dust as she slid on her feet. She could feel the dent his fist left in the shield affecting its balance. Alright then, you're strong, but so am I! she thought as she leaped forward with a downward slash. Xiran sidestepped, punching again but catching her shield. Her father's teachings worked on instinct. Every punch he threw either blocked or dodged, but in return, her sword swipes cut the air. Skylar couldn't pin down a fighting style, he fought differently than other Pugilists. She spun for a shield bash that met Xiran's shoulder. He recoiled and rolled forward, putting distance between them. He let out a chuckle as the crowd roared. Very well...we'll try something else! Xiran thought as he jumped over her. He gathered aether and shot it down on top of her. Skylar raised her shield in time to deflect the blast but didn't expect Xiran's fist to drop down on her shield again. The impact brought her to a knee. Xiran's foot caught the bottom of her shield and flung it sideways, leaving her open for a swift kick to the chest. The metal vibrated as she flew back. Hitting the ground winded her. As she looked up Xiran took a new stance and fire swirled around him. One word came to Skylar's mind. MONK.
Her father's words echoed as she got back up. “Monks are tenacious bastards, but they aren't invincible. They stay on the attack, using their brute force to overpower with secret techniques, but if you pay attention, they can be defeated...”
Skylar took to her feet and assumed her stance again. Her shield, dented and scraped, was up. She peered over the top to watch Xiran's movement. Xiran ran forward to strike. Skylar jumped back with a spin, throwing her shield. Xiran didn't expect such a bold maneuver and was caught in the gut. Skylar lunged and hit Xiran with the pommel of her sword. As he reeled back, Skylar took her shield and slammed Xiran with it again. Xiran scrambled to his feet while Skylar chased. She swiped his left leg, then his left arm, leaving deep cuts in both. She spun for another shield bash, but Xiran flipped over it, managing to land his heel on Skylar's cheek. Xiran followed up with a kick into Skylar's back. Skylar rolled forward, jumping and throwing her shield again. Xiran caught it with one hand, his gaze burning. Skylar couldn't tell if it was anger or determination but didn't care either way. Xiran tossed the shield aside and charged again with lightning. She couldn't block it, letting her armor take the brunt of the hit. Xiran connected a two jab combo into Skylar's face. She returned a backspin swing that cut into Xiran's side. Xiran was denting Skylar's armor, bruising her with every hit, while she turned his vest into leather ribbons and leaving cuts on his torso. After a long exchange of blows, They stood apart again. The combatants were heaving breaths, unable to get the upper hand on each other. Skylar had one more trick to try. She ran at Xiran as fast as she could muster, jumping into the air with her sword overhead pointed down. Xiran waited for the right moment to give one last full-force boot to the chest. Skylar hadn't failed, however. Her sword continued down far enough to drive into Xiran's leg, missing the bone and piercing straight through. Her hands let go of the sword as she flew backward. Time seemed to slow down until she hit the ground again. Xiran's last kick cracked her armor. It pushed in far enough she was having trouble breathing, on top of all the dents pushing into various other parts of her bust and abdomen. She struggled to roll onto her side so she could see her adversary. Xiran had hit the ground. His leg was unable to hold him up. He lifted his head to see her, and their eyes met. They both knew they had enough. Skylar rolled onto her back and Xiran's head dropped again. The audience was on its feet. The cheering was so loud the announcer didn't bother to try speaking over them. Chirurgeons went to both fighters and placed them on stretchers, taking them both to the infirmary of the Coliseum.
Xiran was on one end of the infirmary with Johan while Skylar was on the other with M'Irena behind a curtain. The chirurgeons healed up a majority of their injuries, but aches and soreness would plague them both for a time. Skylar's sword lay on the table by Xiran. Johan made sure the wounds were all sealed before pulling the Au Ra up. “I'm sure I still have some mint salve back at the apartment. Put some on tonight and you'll be right as rain by morning.” Xiran nodded at Johan but his attention went to the sword. “She moved in ways I hadn't seen before. No normal gladiator taught her how to fight,” he whispered to Johan. The old Monk nodded. “Aye, that was Corpse Brigade training, I know it. But you, you've trained with Holyfist and me. It may not have given you an edge, but it kept you in the fight well enough.” Johan patted Xiran's shoulder. “You did your forefathers proudly. Come, let's get you home.” Xiran gave a small smile. “Sure, just give me a moment,” he responded as he picked up Skylar's sword. Johan cleaned the blood off of it as Xiran was being nursed. “Aye, I'll see you outside.” Johan walked out as Xiran stood slowly, carefully carrying the blade with both hands. As he got closer he could hear Skylar reassuring her mother behind the curtain. “Mum, yes, I'm fine!”
“Are you though?! Look at all the bruises, you've never had a thrashing this bad since your father's training!”
“And I'm all the stronger for it, Mum! Did you see him? He was all covered in cuts!”
M'Irena scoffed at Skylar. “Oh just you wait, I'll make him eat his own horns! I'm going to find you some clothes, just stay here!” M'Irena pulled the curtain back and shrieked at seeing Xiran. “Gods, I apologize, I just wanted to return this since it was in my leg and all!” Xiran smiled sheepishly as M'Irena took the sword from him. “You're lucky I don't cut your bullocks off-”
“MUM!” Skylar called out from behind the curtain
“Alright, alright! You, don't you dare peek in on my daughter or I'll have gecko soup tonight!” Xiran stifled a chuckle as M'Irena huffed off, leaving the sword on Skylar's bed. Xiran pulled up a stool on the other side of the curtain. “How are you?” he asked Skylar.
“I'm fine, save for the bruises. How's your leg?”
“Fine, I'll live to fight another day. Who taught you how to handle a sword?”
“My father. He was a soldier in the Ala Mhigan army. Who taught you how to punch?”
“My grandfather. He was a Monk for the fist of Rhalgr...”
Skylar thought for a moment. “Does this make us enemies?”
Xiran pondered the question. “It doesn't have to. We don't have to fight the wars of our fathers. But it does mean if we meet in the ring again, I'll be ready for you.” He smiled as he finished.
Skylar chuckled. “That means I'll be ready for you too, you know.”
Xiran returned her chuckled as he stood. “I wouldn't have it any other way, Kitty.”
Skylar pulled the curtain over to poke her head out. “Watch yourself, Gecko!”
Xiran laughed as he walked away. Skylar took her sword in hand. She stood up, spinning her sword and pointed it at Xiran as he opened the door. “Next time, I'm winning!”
Xiran stopped and gave Skylar a smirk. “You can try!” He winked and closed the door behind him.
“All right, my lovelies, a new day has begun! Let's get those beds nice and fluffed, let Madame Sandra know if anything is needed, I'll be in my office getting the books ready!” Sir Reginald shuffled through the hallways of the brothel. He knocked on doors as he passed to awake his employees. He stopped at the door to his office on the third and top floor. It overlooked a large courtyard with a giant palm tree in the middle that provided plentiful shade. He turned to the women coming out of their rooms and raised a hand in encouragement. “It's a fine day, full of opportunity!” he shouted before disappearing into his office and slamming the door behind him.
The women were diverse in race. Miqo'te, Roegadyn, Midlanders, Highlanders, even a few Lalafels. Madame Sandra, a Hellsguard woman, kept the women in line and their customers behaved. “Let's go, girls, you heard Sir Reginald! It's a new day!” she belted out. One by one they shuffled down the halls to one of the various bathing halls. The Madame walked up the stairs and to the northeast corner of the brothel where one large ornate door stood. She knocked on the door and took out a key unlock it. “Up, Niytshade!” She opened the door to see a young Xaela female on the end of her bed. The old man's favorite. A rare find that was brought to him by traders from Hingashi as a child. She toiled under Madame Sandra until her 16th anniversary of being at the brothel, where she was given a room and a new job. Sir Reginald called it a promotion.
Madame Sandra walked over to Niytshade and held her chin, inspecting her eyes. “Foo, you look like the seventh hell, love. Still can't sleep?” she asked with genuine concern. Sandra wasn't fond of her line of work, but it was work, and she cared for the women as if they were her kin seeing that most of them had none. Niytshade yawned as Sandra called for a bucket of warm water and a rag. She stood and stretched, her light blanket falling to the floor. Her form was stunning and even made the Madame jealous at times. The Au Ra's black scales and dark horns on porcelain made her an exotic favorite only available to the highest bidders. Niytshade picked the blanket back up and rubbed her green eye, the blue one still half open from little sleep. “It's those dreams again. That a tall, dark man saves me from a tower, takes me to a grass sea-”
“And you live happily ever after, I know, it never changes.” The bucket and rag were delivered and Sandra began washing the Au Ra. “Gods, I will never know how you get dirt under your nails all the time.”
Niytshade gave Sandra a puzzled look, “Oh? Maybe from tending to the palm?”
Sandra shot an angry look back at Niytshade. “And when would you be doing that when your room is always locked?”
“Well, not always. Sometimes Sir Reginald forgets at night and I like to tend to the flowers in the courtyard. They're the only pretty things I get to see in person...” Sandra sighed and tended to the dirt. Niytshade didn't dare tell the madame that she actually tried to sneak out the night before, as she usually does when Sir Reginald drinks too much and forgets to lock her door. The new guard, however, proved to be more sharp in sense than most. He had almost seen her a few days prior as she tried to see what all the girls were clamoring about.
Sandra continued from Niytshade's hands to the rest of her body. “Honestly, you're lucky no one ever hears you. Most of the girls are already jealous Sir Reginald's favorite that never has to fight for attention. Gods only know what would happen if they got a hold of you when no one was looking.”
Niytshade thought about the Madame's words for only a moment as she went back to thinking of the grass sea. The wide expanse of green over rolling hills and a giant sun. Sandra lightly slapped Niytshade's bare butt as she finished scrubbing, snapping the Au Ra from her daydream. “Right then, ring the bell if you need something, as always. Get dressed quick, too. You have your first appointment soon as we open.” Sandra took the rag and bucket and closed the door behind her as she left. Niytshade walked over to her large closet, opening the doors to reveal a menagerie of dresses. She moved one after the other until she settled on a loose Thavnarian silk sundress. She always tried to go choose the ones that were easiest to take off. Most clients didn't like to waste time once they saw what they were paying for.
No sooner was she done applying her make-up did the courtyard bell ring. It was the Madame's way to call the girls from their rooms and line up for their clients. Niytshade rose from her chair in front of a large mirror and stood by the post of her over-sized canopy bed in a sultry position. The door opened slowly and a young Lalafel man walked in. He has to be no older than eighteen summers. Likely one of Lolorito's lackeys that just had a name day, Niytshade thought. She spoke in a calm tone as she sat with legs crossed to not intimidate the youth. “Welcome, sir. Today is your lucky day...” The young Lalafel chuckled nervously as he closed the door behind him.
Tonight she would finally have her freedom. Sir Reginald went home drunk and left Niytshade’s door unlocked once again. She prepared her usual trousers and long silk blouse, both black to match her cloak, and a small coin purse. The oversized hood kept her horns hidden. She slipped on a pair of moccasins and carefully walked out of her room. The new guard had finally been given a night free after a straight week of duty. His relief, one of Sir Reginald’s nephew’s, was drunk in a chair by the palm. His chest could barely rise as he snored. Niytshade walked carefully. Her dainty feet floated across the floor, softened by the soft leather moccasins. At the banister, she took another look around. Fat man in the chair, no one else around, perfect chance! she pondered victoriously. She snuck her way down the stairs. She descended slowly, careful not to make the wood creak. On the floor, she carefully pulled the latch of the door and slipped out. She took a deep breath once she was out. It smelled like food billowing from a cart in the Sapphire Avenue. She trotted over and watched as people approached and left each stall on the strip. It was enough at times for her to know that there was a world beyond her window. One where she belonged. A dancing troupe appeared from the Gate of Thal, playing music on lutes and flutes. Niytshade followed as they passed, careful to not be noticeable.
She followed them down to the Quicksand, where she admired the adventurers lingering. Do they ever see a grass sea like I dream about? she pondered. She took to following the troupe again to the Ruby Road Exchange. There she broke away from the music and looked around the stalls. Niytshade enjoyed searching for new trinkets to add to her collection. A jade comb caught her eye after a moment of looking. She picked it up, admiring its pure shade of green. “A beautiful piece for a beautiful young lady,” cried the Lalafelin shopkeep. Niytshade was taken aback. “I’m sorry, I was only looking,” she replied nervously.”
“Not to fret, milady! I merely meant to point out that you have good taste! That piece hails from the Far East!”
Niytshade listened curiously. “The Far East?”
“Right you are, where you’ll find the Shinobi of Doma and the grass seas of the Azim Steppe! Since you’ll likely be my last customer tonight, I’ll part with it for just fifteen gil. What say you?”
Niytshade showed no hesitation in pulling out her coin purse. She dropped the coins one by one into the smiling Lalafel’s open hands. As she dropped the coins he noticed the scales on her hands. He looked at them curiously. Niytshade noticed his gaze and grew anxious. “Thank you!” she said and hurried off deeper into the city. She ran until she realized she didn’t recognize her surroundings. Niytshade caught her breath under a lamp post. She waited until she was calm before deciding down an alley that she hoped would lead her somewhere she knew.
The alley was dark save for the moonlight. Small squares of light came from the apartments she walked past. Ahead she noticed a left turn before a dead end. A trio of surly-looking men was being boisterous past the turn. Just keep your head down and keep walking, Niytshade thought to herself. One of the men noticed her as she approached. “Oy, you lost lass,” he asked her with a smirk, leaving his seat atop a crate. He was bald and covered in dirt. He wore slops and a rated pair of worker’s boots. The other two were dressed the same way. One with his hair in a bandana, the other with messy hair. Just keep walking, she thought again, picking up her pace. “I think she just ignored ya, Cybil,” chuckled another of the men. Cybil cut Niytshade off. “Oy! I said, are you lost? Or are you just a bitch,” he asked snidely. Niytshade stepped back wanting to turn away but the other men had already cut off her escape. She held her comb close. “I-I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get home,” she whimpered. Cybil grabbed her arm harshly. “No worries, lass! We can help you, but we’ll need something from ya first...” He went to take off her hood and she backed away. “Oy!” he yelled and slapped her, making her tumble into the man with a bandana. The comb fell out of her hands. “Hold her over, Hector!” Cybil commanded. Hector grabbed the back of her head and pushed her against the wall of the alley. Niytshade cried out in resistance, but Hector proved too strong for her. “Keep an eye out, Trevor,” Cybil said. The messy haired man took a position by the turn that Niytshade wished she could have gotten to. Cybil kicked her legs apart. “Let’s see what this one is made of...” he said as he licked his lips. Niytshade began to cry.
Down the alley, a door suddenly opened. A tall figure walked out with a pouch, carrying on a conversation as he walked out. “So boil the roots then, yeah?” the man said. Inside the door, an old woman nodded and waved him goodbye. “Plesant evening!” he said as he smiled and waved back. He turned and saw the scene before him. Niytshade struggled to turn her head in Hector’s hand. She could barely make out his height and long black hair. She thought she might have been hit too hard on the head when she noticed a dim green glow where his eyes should be. “Cybil, whats going on here?” he asked, nonchalantly.
“None of your damn business, gecko!” Cybil answered angrily.
“Oh, I think when you have someone pressed against a wall, it very much becomes my business. Also resorting to name-calling just means you want me to beat you to a pulp.”
“Trevor!” Cybil yelled. Trevor took out a knife from his boot and charged. The man dropped his pouch and caught Trevor’s wrist. He twisted and flipped Trevor over, dropping Trevor hard on his back. He kicked Trevor in the chin and knocked him out. Hector let go of Niytshade, his face in terror. “Tousling with the Demon, it’s not worth it, mate!” Hector said before turning and running away. Niytshade dropped to the floor, watching as the tall figure struck fear in Cybil. Cybil stood frozen for a moment as The Demon came closer. Running was useless, but Cybil tried anyway. A flash of lightning sprung from The Demon’s feet and he rammed his shoulder into Cybil’s back. Cybil’s breath left his body. The Demon flipped over Cybil. As he landed, he used his momentum to hurl Cybil into the crate at the end of the alley. The crate broke as if it was made of sticks. The Demon brushed his hands off with a satisfied “Hmmph.” He walked back to Niytshade. “Are you alright Miss-” he stopped as he felt something strange under his shoe. He moved his foot to find the jade comb. He picked it up and held it, offering his other hand to help her up. “Are you alright?” he asked again, more gentle. Niytshade took his hand, awestruck by his strength as he helped her up. “Yes...,” she answered timidly. Her head barely reached the top of his abdomen. He wore a red shirt that was open halfway down his chest over black slops and boots. It was now that she noticed his horns. “Who are you?” she asked, bewildered.
He smiled at her question. It was hard to find someone in Ul’Dah that didn’t know his name. “I’m Xiran, Miss...?”
“Oh! I’m Niytshade.” She bowed to him cordially.
“Please, no need to bow! I’m not anyone special,” he said sheepishly. He held out her comb, brushing it off lightly. “I imagine this is yours?”
Niytshade put her hands on the comb, holding them in his for a moment. “You are, you saved me. I should thank you properly...” Niytshade pushed his hand aside gently, placing her hands on his hips and pressing her chest against him. Xiran’s face turned red. “Uh, wait, what?” he responded in shock. He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to push her off. “I assure you, thanks in a word is just fine!” Xiran’s voice quivered slightly. Niytshade was surprised. She never met a man that turned her away. Oh, Gods...did he see? she thought frantically. She stepped away from him, checking for tears in her hood. Xiran watched in confusion. “I’m sorry, sir. I know I’m strange-looking, I just wanted to repay your kindness.”
Xiran chuckled briefly. “I seriously doubt you could be any more strange than me. Unless you have black horns and scales all over your body, which I have never seen on anyone else, then you couldn’t possibly be-” Niytshade took off her hood, revealing her face and horns. Xiran was astonished.
“Oh...”
The two Au Ra sat on a bench at the far end of the Ruby Exchange. The dancing girls were gone for the night, and the shops long since closed. Niytshade fiddled with the comb in her hands. Xiran could still hardly believe that there had been another Au Ra in Ul’Dah and never knew about it. “Rumors, sure, but each time the idea of a person with black horns surfaced, everyone just circled back to me,” he said.
“Not too many people know about me. Those that do are too scared of my employer to say anything,” she replied. “I supposed your open popularity only kept mine hidden.”
“Evidently! When did you get here?”
“I was very young. Maybe five summers old? I’ve been in Ul’Dah for seventeen, though.”
“Goodness. I’ve been here for about fifteen. I left home when I was three.”
“Do you remember home?” Niytshade leaned in, her interest piqued.
“Fondly...We lived in Yangxia, just down the road from the Palace. I could see it from my bedroom window every day.”
“Were there grass seas?”
“In Yangxia? Not really. The only place I could think of that would have anything of that sort is the Azim Steppe.”
Niytshade squealed happily. “Yes! That’s what the shopkeep said! How big are they? Is there a giant sun?!”
Xiran laughed. “I don’t know, I’m sorry! I’ve only seen the paintings my mother had of the Steppe. The plains look quite large though.”
“Aww,” Niytshade whimpered dejectedly.
“Well, maybe one day we’ll go there! We can find our families and see the entire Steppe!” Xiran suggested, trying to cheer her up.
“I...I can’t,” Niytshade answered sadly.
“Why not?”
“My employer, it’s all I’ve ever known. I barely ever leave my room, let alone the city.”
“What is it that you do, exactly?”
Niytshade turned away from him, embarrassed. “I...service clients.”
“So you take orders at the Quicksand? I doubt Mimodi would have issues with anyone leaving.”
“No, I don’t work for Mimodi.”
“So like a dancing girl? You’re very pretty, I bet you make a lot of gratuities!”
Niytshade smiled. “Thank you, but no, I don’t dance. At least-”
Xiran looked perplexed. “So you don’t take orders, and you don’t dance...” Xiran put a hand to his chin. “Then that means...”
Niytshade braced for his revelation. “You’re a delivery girl!” He exclaimed, confidently. Niytshade burst into laughter, which was short-lived. “Maybe I should just show you.” She stood and took his hand. Xiran followed in tow, curious and unsure.
At the brothel, Xiran was still confused. “Do you know this place?” Niytshade asked.
“Yes, I work here. I guard the door at night. I’ve never seen you, though,” he answered, even more confused.
“Well, that’s because I work inside. Servicing clients.”
“Servicing- Ohhh. Ohhhh...That explains a lot,” he answered, feeling stupid. Niytshade patted his arm to console with a giggle. “So you sneak out every night?”
“Only when the Master leaves my door open.”
“And since I had started, I’ve been keeping you from sneaking out?”
“To be fair, you’re very intimidating.”
“I try not to be...”
Niytshade took one of his hands, tracing the veins on the back. “With such strength, it must take a lot of effort.” She closed his hand, smiling at him. Xiran smiled back warmly. “So what now, Sir Night Guard?”
Xiran thought for a moment. “Go inside, get some sleep. If you need anything then leave me a note under the door when the last client leaves. We can’t have you getting hurt like you almost did tonight.”
Niytshade smiled at his concern. “I think you’re right. I don’t think I’ll want to sneak out for some time, now that I know you.” She hugged him unexpectedly. Xiran blushed as he smiled, hugging her back. “Do you think we could see home one day?” she asked.
“I think now we have a duty to see that plan through, for both our sakes. We’ll figure out a way for you to leave here, and then we’ll go from there.” Niytshade smiled with hope. “I feel you’re right.” She walked to the door and quietly opened it. Xiran smiled and nodded, mouthing the words “Good night” to her. Niytshade smiled back and gave a small wave as she closed the door. He waited until he heard the latch engage before making his way home to Little Ala Mhigo. Dawn greeted him along the walk as he thought of his new friend and a new connection to home.
