Gaerielle Mytra A'Theonandias's Story

"You there? State your business."

Gaerielle froze, her hands shaking as she moved to pull her hood even further down. Escaping the Royal Family's mansion was a lot harder than she expected; several times, she had to cause the torches that illuminated the walkways to explode spontaneously so the guards would investigate, leaving her a chance to walk right through. Then there were times like this where the guard would notice her before she could distract him. As the guard came closer, she began to cough violently, hunching her back to better hide her face. "Ah, hello there," she said, mimicking the voice of her elderly tutor back in Theonandias Palace. "Young man, I advise that you keep a safe distance."

She cough once before continuing,"You see, I have caught the Black Chills, but by the grace of His Royal Majesty, I have been permitted to return to my home to recuperate."

Now it was the guard's turn to freeze in his tracks as he began to hesitate. "T-the Black Chills? Why then, you best be out of here quick!"

Gaerielle smiled under her hood, keeping her back hunched as she ambled along the walkway. Although she could not see the guard's face, there was no doubt he must be horrified as he made way for her. The Black Chills were a highly contagious strain of disease that had spread rather widely in the Eastern Continent for some time ever since the Year of Flood. Being just a few months back, there was no doubt the memory of that disease's symptoms were still fresh on the minds of many alive today. Blackened fingers, black patches on the face... Many a pretty face had been marred by this disease, never to be restored.

Made worse by the fact that it was contagious. When the cure had yet to be found, there were even rumors going on about how simply looking upon a person stricken with the Black Chills would curse one with that affliction. It was even said simply standing too close to the person would be enough for the disease to spread. Gaerielle had been playing on this fact (one later proven wrong by Royal Physicians) but had not expected it to work on the guard.

In any case, it mattered little at this juncture, Gaerielle noted as she reached the Palace's exit. Finally easing back into her upright posture, she glanced over to the side of the exit. Picturing an iceberg, she closed her eyes and opened up the connection to her magical pool, as she had been taught. The familiar rush of magical energy through her body seized her as she began to form the object of her thoughts where she wanted it to be. Satisfied with its formation, she snapped her fingers, releasing it into reality. It fell mid-air onto the ground, smashing itself into pieces.

The guards were startled, and promptly went to investigate, as expected. Gaerielle smirked at the success of her plan as she casually strolled out of the exit into the streets of Ugeos.

...

The streets were crowded, filled with people of all walks of life. It was mostly the young that filled the streets, but she could also see some elderly men and women walking down, hand in hand. Then there were the warriors, decked out in full armor with their sheathed swords slung over their back - no doubt, here for the thrills of the arena. Along the streets, there were vendors peddling their wares. Some were interesting, and actually caught Gaerielle's eyes - which speaks a lot about the beauty of the item. Unfortunately, here in Ugeos, the vendors were renowned for selling very well mimicked replicas. It may be pretty, but Gaerielle had no taste for copies.

She continued down, enjoying her relaxed pace in spite of the hurried gait of most people around her. As a Princess, she had never been this close to a crowd before, so this experience was a curious one - and also one that she enjoyed.

However, she was not here for enjoyment, that much was certain. With a long sigh, she began to look around for an inn. First part of her plan, she would rest in the Inn before she sought a 'reliable' partner to travel with. In her mind, she was replaying some of the fairy tales she read when she was young. Oftentimes, the heroes of the story would rest in Inns and gather like-minded individuals with useful talents before going out on their quests. Ideally, this would be the case with her, but she dared not gather too many. She was alone now, with no one but herself to rely on should this person decide to turn on her.

More so for Gaerielle; as loathe as she was to admit, she was far too sheltered. Still, a quest was a quest, and for her, it was far too late to give up on it. After all, starting on it came at a rather huge price. Should she return without completing this quest, she could possibly see a life of solitude in one of the towers of Theonandias. With the dismal realization weighing heavily on her mind, she continued along the streets.

---Ooooohhhh shucks. I posted in the wrong place! Can't delete this either... Sorry~!

It came much quicker than Gaerielle had expected – the boredom. There was some sense of excitement earlier when the experience was still novel, but that moment has since passed. As she pushed past the crowds that flooded the streets, she was starting to grow weary of having to breathe in the stuffy air. Even the aroma from the food vendors’ stalls was doing little to ease this growing disinterest; Gaerielle took one glance at the food options and turned away, dismissing it as too oily looking for her tastes. It was made even worse by the fact that monetary expenses had to be limited for the purpose of the quest.

There was no telling how much hiring mercenaries on her quest would cost, and how much the expenses would be from staying in an inn. She may have taken with her some amount of gold coins but even these would run out at some point. Then there was the issue of how long this quest would take, how long her handmaiden can pretend to be her… So many questions, but too little answers; worse still, the only certain answer was a life of solitude should she return to Theonandias without accomplishing her mission. The rest were mere possibilities, and the negative outweigh the positive.

In short, there was little to no chance to enjoy her casual stroll down the street. Granted, it was not any part of her plan to be ‘enjoying’ the stroll – though she did harbour some hopes that she could purchase something to feed her desire. Still, the disappointment was apparent as she dragged her feet along, pulling her hood lower to hide her displeasure. A shriek from one of the vendors startled her, for although the streets were filled with the cacophony of voices, such a shriek was out of place in it.

She looked in the direction of the shriek, to see a vendor looking disapprovingly at a young man who looked about her age. He had an unruly looking haircut; either trimmed messily or poorly handled in a manner that struck Gaerielle as bordering on ugly. His face was perhaps his one redeeming quality, combined with his complexion which Gaerielle found to be at least ‘good-looking’. All in all, an amusing contrast, leaving Gaerielle with the conclusion that it was a case of poor matching by the whims of fate; a handsome young man with no taste in hair-styles.

That aside, she wondered why the vendor shrieked in the first place. The man was not even running away, only shrugging nonchalantly – so it was likely he did not steal anything. With her curiosity now aroused, she decided to walk over to the vendor’s stall to take a look at the goods. The stall was an unimpressionable one. Filled with unusual devices of all shapes and design, Gaerielle found herself wondering what each of these devices did rather than being interested to actually purchasing one. She looked closely at the device that the vendor had just put down. Like the rest of the devices on the stall, it was best defined as ‘weird’ and Gaerielle picked it up, immediately noticing an impression which she was about to press.

Again, the vendor shrieked. Now she knew why the vendor shrieked at the young man. Before she could even react, the device was seized from her hand. ”’Ey! No touc’ing!” The vendor hissed in her heavily Ugeos-accented tongue. Gaerielle chuckled,”Not even someone with the Black Chills?”

The effects of such a statement was immediately apparent – so much so Gaerielle regretted it. First, the vendor shrieked, screamed, in fact. Then she tossed the device back at Gaerielle, still screaming, but now more audibly saying she could have it for free. Next, she announced to the entire street that ‘this hooded figure’ has the Black Chills. So now, wherever Gaerielle walked, everyone gave her a wide berth. It was funny in the first few moments, but it quickly became disconcerting when she could not walk peacefully without people staring at her. Despite being covered up entirely by the cloak and hood, she felt naked as she walked.

She hurriedly entered the inn, hoping to seek accommodation. Almost as soon as she stepped in, was she chased out, and no amount of pleading would change their minds. Clutching the device in her hands, she began to trudge along the streets, parting the sea of people wherever she went.

As Ayden moved past people, his eyes glanced up at the sun, a slight frown appearing on his face. It was lower than he thought it was, he mused. Well he could always sneak into the inn, he thought idly as he leaned against a pole supporting a vending stand. Taking an unoccupied room would be easy enough, once he found one. Or not, if he was caught climbing into the window of an occupied room. His eyes flickered over to the vending stand nearby, full of different delicacies. Some looked rather greasy, but he didn't mind. Food was food, and was particularly interesting if it came from another culture. He licked his slightly chapped lips as he gazed at a pastry, with its side split and showing a meaty filling. As he stared at it, he wondered whether it was the same filled pastries he used to eat back in Zeniatar. But as the thought about eating it entered his mind, he remembered he had no gold in his pockets. He let out a sigh as his gaze shifted back to the sky, before looking at the crowd.

Having made his decision, he watched the individuals moving through the crowd. He ignored those who seemed poorly dressed, and focused on those whose clothing was extremely extravagant. There weren't too many of these individuals, but there were enough, and as Ayden realized, there was one next to a vending stand. His sky blue eyes dropped down to a brown money pouch belonging to the person, the individual in question a large robust man with long flowing robes over a thoroughly decorated tunic. Seeing the man examining the wares, Ayden took his time, leaning further into the pole as he stared. Instead of actually going up to the man, he tried making the coins come to him. What if he applied the same theory of willing fire to appear, or willing that everyone cease movement, to willing the bag over?

He went from idly wishing, to commanding the bag to appear in his hand. But neither happened, and after a while Ayden began to grow frustrated with the idea. He was reasonably sure it would work, but his stomach was now growling and distracting him. Finally he pushed off the pole and began weaving his way through the crowd, moving over to the stall. As it happened, the man was busy buying a large cut of meat. But he wasn't satisfied with the set price, and was feverishly haggling with the vendor. As if he didn't have enough money, Ayden thought with a smirk. The two were seemingly about to come to blows as Ayden neared, before a shriek echoed through the busy marketplace. Ayden was momentarily distracted as he looked about, before he found the source of the disturbance. His eyes rolled as he spotted a short hooded figure, female from what he could tell, being scolded by the same woman who's items he had been handling just moments before. He watched idly as the woman nearly screamed, before throwing the strange device at her.

Seeing the rich man move away from the stall with his arms full of pig roast, Ayden's hands left his pockets as he moved after. He hardly needed any distraction to lift the man's pouch, however, for a moment later the shrieking female vendor had practically screamed to the entire street that this hooded figure had the "Black Chills". The mere words seemed to freeze everyone in their tracks, as the entire population seemed to be staring directly at her. Everyone except Ayden, who had little idea of what they spoke of, and was more intent on the money pouch. Removing his pocket knife, he cleaned sliced the leather straps holding the pouch before sliding it under his jacket. With everyone focused on the hooded figure, Ayden slipped away without anyone noticing, moving to an unoccupied portion of the street.

With the initial shock of the presence of the strange hooded figure having passed, the townsfolk continued about their business. However anywhere the hooded figure walked, the streets emptied as the people gave an unnecessarily wide berth. As he watched her hurry towards the inn, he couldn't help but smirk at the incident. From what he could tell, everyone thought she had some strange disease, and she had used it to get her way at the vendor. An ingenious way to get something for free, but would have been better used on something much more expensive, no matter how intriguing the shiny box had been. Especially now that everyone was avoiding her.

With her gone from the streets, she along with the incident was gone from his mind. The sun was now even closer to the horizon, reminding him of the need for shelter. It wouldn't do to sleep on the ground here, not with bandits roaming the streets at night. His head turned to look over his shoulder, gazing back at the farm house he had left, and his pursuers. No doubt they would be coming here later, he thought with a frown. He would have to move on soon.

As he neared the inn, he could see the same hooded figure moving away from the building, the crowds making way for her as usual. A slight smile appeared on his face as the figure hurried close to him, and he leaned against a pole supporting another building, not bothering to hurry away with the rest. After all, she had only been pretending to have some strange disease, right?

"That was a bad move," he said idly, his voice hinting that he knew something, his blue eyes full of amusement as he looked towards her. "It's a nice way to not pay for something, but doesn't help much in the long run."

At her height, she could not see how the man looked and she did not dare risk it. Looking upwards at the taller man would reveal her face, and in this neighbouring Kingdom, Royalty were quite easily recognized. Instead, she focused on a more curious question: how did he see through her trickery? If the actions of the commoners were to be believed, her pretence was rather believable. Or perhaps, made believable by the vendor who, in her horror, loudly announced to the entire street that she had the Black Chills. As a result, no one walked an arm’s length of her, and whenever she coughed, everyone took an extra step back.

And now, here was this man who, unlike the others, had seen through her. Again the question of how sprang up in her mind, and for a moment, she contemplated continuing the act. When she figured the man’s words were right and she could not keep this up in the long run, she sighed and said,” Yes, good Sir. You have seen through me.”

Then, in the last moment, she realized that the man had not spoken with certainty. His words were ambiguous, in fact, and had not directly showed that he knew she was pretending to have the Black Chills. This was a moment Gaerielle was glad she had the hood for, as she bit her lips in exasperation. At the same time, she also realized her words were just as ambiguous – for she had not yet admitted to having that disease.

Returning to her act, she began to cough. Despite being softer than her earlier ‘coughing fits’, the crowd still took a step back as they walked along – though she also realized that some must not have heard the vendor earlier or simply forgotten, for now there were some in the crowd that did not shy away immediately. Still hunched low, she continued,” I know using my illness will not help me much in the long run, but alas, I’ll take any charity people would show me.”

And she smiled, pleased that she saved her act in this manner. Unless the man was truly certain that she did not have the Black Chills and exposed her directly, it was unlikely that he will pursue this any further. Although distorted by the commoners, one of the defining symptoms of the disease was its spread through physical contact. Due to that, one of the requirements for a patient with Black Chills was for the person to be quarantined and isolated from the rest – where the person would be free from physical contact with others as he recuperated. Of course, with the lesser knowledge and superstition of the commoners, this was twisted into the belief that the patient has an ‘aura of illness’ that infects those who stand too close.

Whichever belief this man subscribed to, Gaerielle had no doubt it would be quite a gamble.

His statement had frozen her in her tracks, and he let the smile spread slightly across his face. She had turned around to see her speaker, though he could not actually see her face, which was hidden by the hood. From her stooped stature, one might guess she was fairly old, or at least weak. But her hands indicated otherwise, being as smooth as silk and definitely not the hands of an old lady. Her hands didn't tremble as she held the strange looking object, and save for the rather weak cough he was offered, after she had confirmed what he had already believed, she seemed quite steady. So if she had been making it up, why was she continuing the charade?

Then she seemed to backtrack, contradicting herself. Though Ayden had to admit he hadn't actually remembered hearing her say she wasn't ill. He placed one hand behind his head in partial confusion, his fingers moving through his hair as he played with the back of his cap. It was a tossup, either she was making up the illness to get what she wanted, or she was exaggerating an illness to get what she wanted. It didn't really matter which way it was, and Ayden wondered why he was even pondering it. Obviously, he had nothing better to do.

The look of confusion left his face as he dropped his arm and reached into his pocket, twirling the shiny pocketwatch as he leaned his head up against the pole to look down his nose at her.

"Charity huh?" Ayden remarked, the amusement only half in his voice. "Seems to me the only thing telling everyone that you are sick has done, has landed you with a strange glowing box with a strange indentation in the top, that probably doesn't even do anything. It certainly doesn't cook food," Ayden said, his eyes looking over the item in question with a critical eye. "And you certainly can't sleep in it."

His hand kept up the twirling motion as his other hand reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a gold coin that had slipped from the pouch. Holding it up to the fading sunlight, he peered at the indentations, the light showing that it was a large compressed coin worth about five. One turkey leg or two, he idly thought as he tossed the coin towards the hooded figure.

"Assuming you can convince anyone to sell you anything, have fun," he remarked, before moving off the pole. Turning about it, he left the hooded figure to her own devices, not waiting for her to say thanks. He stuffed the watch back into his pocket, before strolling into the inn. The people at the door didn't pay him any mind, as he had not been close enough to the ill or supposedly ill woman to make him contagious with whatever illness they all thought she had. Which was good, because his only concern of the moment was finding a nice place to sleep. And after weeks of running or wandering from farm to farm, it would be nice to sleep in soft bed.

"Hello," Ayden said cheerfully as he stood in front of the small wooden desk that served as the innkeeper's office. "I'd like one of your best rooms, preferably with a window view. How much would that be?"

"That would be ten coins per night, sir, how long will you be staying?"

"Oh, just the night, I'll probably be moving on afterwards," Ayden said as he reached into his jacket with both hands, being careful not to pull the pouch out as he dumped ten coins into his hand. "Name's Ayden," he added as he dropped the coins into the innkeeper's hand.

"Thank you sir, here's your key," the innkeeper said as he dropped a brownish silver key into Ayden's hand. "Have a nice evening."

Maybe the man knew, or maybe he didn't. Gaerielle had no way of knowing, in all honesty. What made her even more curious was: what exactly did this man want with her? Was he calling her out just out of his personal amusement, or were there some other motives? Gaerielle held back from asking, instead, keeping up her act with several more coughs to accentuate her 'illness'. This man did not seem to yet be aware that she was acting, or maybe he simply gave up trying to figure her out - but these mattered little now. Unless the man has any motives beyond making a remark about her act, she had little to no interest in him.

Though, what he said about the box she got for free was true. Even at that point, she still had no idea what purpose the box served. As he said, it most certainly would not cook anything, nor could she sleep in it. She held the object out before her, staring at it briefly as the man continued to speak. Gaerielle did not pay him much attention, trying to feel around the box for any other buttons that could be pressed. The man left her with one final sentence, and somehow, Gaerielle felt somewhat relieved he was walking off now.

However, she did not realized he had tossed something to her and that it would come just as he was speaking. With a gasp of surprise, she stepped back, startled by the sudden impact (as small as it was) of the coin, which then proceeded to fall on the ground with a metallic clink. "You little..." she hissed as she re-composed herself. Taking several deep breaths to calm herself down, she bent down to pick up the coin that he had tossed to her. Then her emotions raged out of control and she would have tossed the coin back at the man if she had not realized that he had already disappeared.

In any case, Gaerielle was glad this man had no intentions besides either poking fun at her or... Or maybe that was his only intention. Under her hood, she was scowling as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. The crowd made way, this time due in larger part to the speed at which she stormed. She made a turn into a dark alley, and pulled down her hood, and threw the coin with all her might down the alley. The empty tin can that happened to sit along the alley got kicked along as she continued to vent her frustration from the shock.

For a moment, she was just pacing around in her little tantrum when she was interrupted by a snarl. "Little girlie, has chu, perchance, has more coins?" Gaerielle froze in her tracks, turning to see an old, crippled man in rags limping out from the darkness of the alley. His hands were grimy from goodness-knows-what, and missing some fingers. His face; Gaerielle would not bother to look at, knowing full well she was better off escaping into the crowd now. "No!" She exclaimed and with a start, she bolted back into the crowd.

Without much thinking, she dashed straight ahead in a random direction. The old man did not chase, looking at the girl as she sped into the crowd, wondering what it was that he had said or done that made her run with such abandon. Meanwhile, Gaerielle found herself in front of the inn she had earlier tried to rent a room in. She was considering whether to try again when she realized she was no longer hooded. She panicked, almost pulling the hood over her head when she realized that no one seem to recognize her.

No one averted their gaze when she looked into their eyes, no one put on a courteous half-smile and bowed when she looked at them; no one showed her the same courtesy as they would with any member of the Nobility! Most importantly, no one recognized that she was the Princess of Theonandias who was to wed their own Prince. She thought back to her handmaiden, with whom she had swapped places in order to escape out of the Palace. However, she did not linger long on that thought, almost pulling off her cloak when she remembered she was still wearing her dress.

People may not already recognize her from her face alone, but seeing her dress and it's intricacies, they were likely to realize that. She kept her cloak on as she walked into the inn with as much poise and elegance as she could muster. She arrived just as the innkeeper passed a male patron his key. "Could I have a room for a night, please?" She asked.

"Perfect timing, my lady, we have one last room just for you. For a night, it would be 10 coins."

She smiled as she reached into her pouch, picking out ten coins for the innkeeper.

"Wonderful, here's your key. To get to your room, just follow this young Sir, here. Yours is right beside his, on the left."

Gaerielle smiled brightly as she nodded, taking the key then glancing at the man. She did not recognize him immediately, but when she did, she barely managed to suppress her gasp. It was the same man from earlier!