The Fires of Summer (first draft)

Everything is on fire.

Smock is surrounded by it, heat battering his skin mercilessly. He turns, turns again, tries to find an exit, until he's disorientated, unsure which way he was facing to begin with. It closes in on him, flames licking at his feet, crawling onto his shoes, into his lungs. He doubles over and coughs until he can't breathe. Eventually his knees buckle, sending him to the ground, into the flames. They tear at his body, his lungs in agony, throat seizing up.

Suddenly a hand shoots forward from the fire. It entwines its fingers with his own, grasping tightly, and his eyes land on the ring. Silver with a glimmering sea blue gem on the top.

Smock gasps, but it only draws in more smoke. He chokes out her name, holds the hand as tight as he can manage, tries to pull her out of the flames.

Finally he sees her hair, and then her face, but it's mangled. Her features are distorted and gaunt, her eyes sunken, her lips thin and pale. He reaches for her, coughing, trying to get enough air to speak to her, tell her he loves her. She collapses in his arms, going limp, going impossibly cold. It's all he feels. He caresses the side of her face, trying to speak through his blocked airways, hangs his head forward and cries.

Underneath them the ground splinters and he holds her tight as he falls.

Smock jolts upright in bed, sweating, panting and gasping for breath.

"Ellamia," he sobs when he doesn't feel her weight in his arms, instead bringing them in to hold himself tight.

Eventually he grows silent, though the tears don't stop for a while yet. He sits there until they do, soothing himself.

He remembers waking up with her in a morning, holding her for as long as he could until she'd insist on getting up. Then they'd get dressed together, and every time he would stand in front of her and pull her close by her waist. She'd kiss his lips gently and he'd kiss her nose as his hands got to work with her hair, pulling into a thick braid. Every morning went that way, with their loving routine before a day sailing or on the island or at the market or whatever the plan was.

Smock wants to hold her more than anything. He wants to kiss her and dance with her again. He'd give anything to feel her just one more time.

At last he gets out of bed. Last night he overlooked the desk, simply draping his clothes over the chair, so he neglected to notice the built-in mirror and jewellery drawers. He rifles through them, trying to find something useful, and in the last drawer he finds a pair of scissors and a small knife.

The scissors look slightly rusted but they'll do. He lifts them to his beard first, trims it down as neatly as he can, careful not to cut his jaw on the rust. It's a ritual he's very familiar with and he finishes in moments, but next comes the issue of his overgrown hair.

In all honesty, Ellamia was always the one to insist on cutting his hair every time he brought it up. No matter how much he insisted, she would say it was her 'little thing' and sit him down. He'd smile and let her do it every time.

He takes the scissors and as carefully as he can trims his hair until it sits evenly in the middle of his back. He pulls half around to the front like he always does, and stares at his white streaks thoughtfully.

Smock pulls the one behind his ear out, and like he always used to, like second nature, he braids it. With a tiny hairband he finds in the drawers he ties it, though he figures some string and beads would look nicer when he gets the chance to buy some. It's new but perfect, and looking at it he can't help but smile.

Ellamia would've loved it.

Smock avoids combing his hair, the comb just a little too dirty for his taste, and gets dressed back into his clothes. He takes the bandages from his bag and wraps them neatly around his wrists, practised and precise.

Hopefully the journey through to Seafarer's Shore will be without too much issue. With daylight shining into the rainforest. bypassing the guard camp shouldn't be that much of a hassle, and at his destination he'll be safe.

Politely he tucks in the bedsheets and kicks his cut hair into a pile for easy sweeping, then he grabs the key and heads downstairs.

Smock knows better than to order food in Deadeast, so after returning his key he leaves the tavern. Immediately his attention is drawn to the news board right outside. It's absolutely covered with all sorts of notices, mostly wanted posters of pirates. The Pirate Lords, as always, have their faces on there for an extremely hefty price, but not even the finest bounty hunter nor navy man will ever stand even the slightest chance against them.

When his eyes land on the next person on the board, he almost goes to kick himself, half-convinced he's still dreaming. There, with his signature smirk and ungodly amount of piercings, is none other than Axel, drawn with surprising accuracy and wanted alive for a list of crimes that no traveller would have the patience for.

Smock stares in disbelief. There is simply no way that Axel could have survived the attack that night. Nobody survived, and he'd be the last person cut out for surviving alone, stranded at sea. He'd get on the nerves of any sailor kind enough to take him in and certainly of any pirate, and if someone did take him in then why would people be making up the 'no survivors' thing? He definitely would never side with the Sanguis family, so Smock is only able to narrow it down to one possible answer: magic.

The ins and outs of Axel's magic are unknown to him, but he knows he's powerful, possibly enough to transport himself out of the whole mess.

But considerin' he's alive and well, he frowns, ripping the poster from the board, he can answer that for himself.

Not only that, but if he survived there's a chance that Axel might know something about exactly what happened to Ellamia that night. He can't pass up a chance to get some sort of closure, even if it's not much.

He folds it and sets it in his inside pocket. Axel is... a wild card. Figuring out his next move is a mind game: Smock has lost every sparring match with him, unable to beat his swift and brutal fighting style or predict any of his seemingly erratic attacks. He doesn't even know where to start with locating him, but if Axel is well-known enough to have his face drawn so accurately then surely someone will.

Smock's first thought is to turn around and go back to the tavern. There's bound to be someone in there that knows something, and the bartender most of all must hear stories upon stories about all kinds of people, especially those that are wanted.

Before he can take a single step a voice arises from the direction of the rainforest. "You there - halt!"

Smock turns and sees a group of guards walking into the clearing of Deadeast. He doesn't recognise their faces, but he has no doubt they've been sent from the camp. Putting on a smile, he tries to use an accent a little less pirate-y, "Hello chaps. What's brought you to good 'ole Deadeast?"

Across the way he catches someone peeking between the curtains from their dilapidated house. One of the guards approaches him. "Routine checkups. We've had reports of all sorts happening here, so we've been sent to restore order."

"Restore order to Deadeast? This place wouldn't know order if you shoved it up its arse with a pole," Smock can't help but laugh.

"Without people like you, it might at least have a chance," the guard retorts, signalling to the others, who spread out behind him, effectively blocking the way to the trees.

"...Alright, well I do have places to be and people to meet, so if you'd please let me pass that would be peachy," he says perhaps a little too firmly, and the guard does not seem to be a fan.

"Places to be and people to meet, huh? I'd better keep that in check, I think you should elaborate," he feigns a voice of concern as he closes the space between himself and Smock, the guards coming to circle him.

Smock resists the urge to lash out, trying to figure out how to escape with minimal damage, but there's nowhere for him to run. Welp, time to run my mouth. "Y'see, I've got this friend in town. He's this dark elf with white hair and these weird shades he always wears, and he dresses like a pimp, but-"

"The only dark elf in Aldelis was Queen Avalia Sanguis, you're lying through your teeth," the guard snaps, pushing Smock, sending him stumbling into another guard who holds him in place with his arms. "What, do you have something to hide?"

Smock decides to double down on his lie, but he's stopped before he even starts by the sound of another man shouting over the crowd. "What's going on here?"

Everyone, even the guards, turn around, and he's swiftly released, the circle disbanding to make way for the man. He wears grander armour than the rest, high-ranking by the look of it, and wields an air of confidence, and when he gets near the others show utmost respect. Smock quickly realises that he recognises some of the armour he's wearing, though it's now covered with extra pieces. Must be his on-duty armour...

"This fellow was acting suspiciously, so I decided to question him," the pushy guard responds. Smock mentally notes to never take down a poster in public ever again.

"Is that so?" the man asks, looming over Smock.

"Uhh... I was just taking down a wanted poster for reference," he chuckles nervously, "and then I was gonna head to see a friend."

"Is this what he claimed to you?" he turns for affirmation from another guard, who nods hurriedly. Smock thanks his lucky stars. "Well I don't see any issue here. People do this sort of thing all of the time, do they not? You're clearly not from Deadeast."

"Right, I'm just passin' through," Smock nods, relieved that the situation appears to be resulting in peace. He lowers his arms slowly, breathing a very subtle sigh of relief.

The guards disperse a little, allowing him the freedom to finally move, but he sees that the man is not budging. Suddenly he places a hand on Smock's shoulder, eyes narrowed. "You know, I used to have a coat like that."

"Wow, that's real weird," Smock laughs dryly, taking a nervous step back. "I've had it for a while, we must be coat twins."

"Hold on a minute, I recognise you," Lukas moves to get closer, but Smock avoids him, staring at his bright blue eyes.

"Haha, that's crazy," the pirate chuckles before turning around. He sets his eyes on the nearest path and sprints.

It's taking him in the opposite direction to Seafarer's Shore but he's got no other way out. With a full group of Sanguis guards hunting him down, weapons drawn, he feels adrenaline pump through his body, running as fast as his legs can possibly take him.

Footsteps pound behind him and he hears Lukas yelling for him to stop but he does not relent. The overgrown jungle threatens to trip him with every step, sometimes catching his foot and forcing him to stumble, the guards closing in with every mistake he makes.

Smock doesn't turn to look behind him. He darts along the path until he reaches a clearing. It serves as a crossroads, multiple paths meeting in a cracked cobble circle in the middle. The back end of a cart is heading up the north path. He can't pause; the guards are on his heel.

Taking a gamble, Smock throws himself towards the cart. "Hey, hold up! Help a poor sod out!"

Someone in the back of the cart turns to look at him. He meets their brown eyes, pleading. The cart slows down after the person says something to them, and they reach out a hand.

Smock finally catches up, grabs their hand, and jumps up into the cart. The crack of reins sounds up front and the cart takes off with great speed. He looks to the guards, sees how close they were to him, and watches as the cart loses them, catching his breath.

"What in the nine hells was that all about?" his saviour, a girl with dark sepia skin and short, coily black hair, asks him in a quiet voice.

Smock leans in, closing the distance between them so he too can drop his voice. "Bunch'a guards decided to bully me."

"That all?" the girl raises a brow, amused, her tawny eyes glimmering with mischief. He senses an air about her that makes him feel nothing but comfortable.

"...Their commander showed up, who I may have robbed this coat from," he confesses with a playful smirk, and she laughs too.

She's wearing a red cloak which she pulls closer to her body as a chill wind passes around them. "Wow, you're lucky they didn't catch you then. Guards around the coast of Riloris aren't taking kindly to just about anyone, let alone criminals."

"So I've heard," Smock looks out on the path. The guards are nowhere in sight, but the horses are still pulling the cart with speed. He looks up to the others on the cart, sees one person asleep at the top, and two people on the front seats, steering the horses. "What kicked that off anyways? Is it this bad everywhere else?"

"What, have you been living under a rock?" she asks with a laugh, no malice behind her quip. "Corvus decreed that he would be cracking down on outlaws and 'the rising piracy dilemma'. Apparently he was planning it for a while and only just put it into effect... he said things were no longer safe in Riloris and is stopping people from passing the borders where he can, to try trap people in and stop the outlaw population from continuing to grow."

"That's insane, you can't control the borders of Riloris and Miria - they're entwined," Smock remarks. Corvus has lost his mind.

"Try telling that to the King," she kicks out her feet youthfully, careful to avoid Smock's legs.

"Anyway, where are you all headed for?" he decides there's no harm in asking. There's no way that he's getting back through to Seafarer's Shore yet, and Axel could be anywhere, so this might be his chance to go somewhere that he can gather information.

"We're going to God's Lake in Miria," before he can ask, she continues, "there's a certain border control group that knows Grandfather-"

"What are you going on about back there, Dawn?" someone from the front calls back to them, emerging from her own conversation.

"Oh, I'm just telling the stranger about where we're going," she shrinks a little, her enthusiasm dialling down.

"Why, is our dear stranger interested in coming with us?" the woman asks, never fully turning her face to them.

Smock hesitates. "Well, I do have places to be, people to find, letters to send..."

"Do you have a place to stay?" she presses. He has enough money to go from tavern to tavern, but even a penny saved could come in extremely useful.

"No," he scratches the back of his neck idly.

"Come back with us to the Wolf's Woods - we're having a big dinner tonight, and we have empty beds," she offers, and Smock shifts in his seat.

"...Yeah, sure. Dinner won't hurt. Besides, how can I say no to such kindness?" Smock smiles lightly but nervously. Usually offers like this come with something in return.

"Wonderful, the others will be so excited to have company," she returns his smile before turning back to the horses and striking up another conversation with the other person in the front.

Smock shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Dawn leans in, her voice much quieter this time. "That's Sister Abbey. She's a bit pushy, sorry..."

"It's alright, at least I got a place to stay now," he shrugs, trying to ease up for her sake. "So, Dawn huh?"

"Yeah, Dawn Alma," she nods in response, "I don't think I caught your name."

"Name's Smock," he replies, extending a hand. She eagerly shakes it, brightening with the contact. "D'you happen to be going through anywhere with a post office on the way to yer place?"

"We pass through this little village near God's Lake, but I don't know what's in there," Dawn shrugs, looking to the sleeping person in the cart. They're sitting with their knees to their chest, seemingly fast asleep. Their long, black hair falls over their knees and covers their face. "Brother Klaus usually heads in for us, so you can go with him."

"...Right," Smock stares at him for a moment, then sets his eyes out to the scenery passing around them. The rainforest is still thick with trees in all directions.

They travel for about an hour making small talk, just exchanging the events of the past day. Smock finds out that they've been travelling through Aldelis in search of someone that apparently went 'missing'. She says they found the person, but that they didn't want to come back home when they asked, though she recalls not seeing them come out of their house at all.

Smock watches as the rainforest becomes sparse. It's been a long time since he's been so far inland. Last time must have been when he sailed through the deep canyons of Riloris to a tucked-away town known for its exquisite cuisine. The canyons foster their own unique life and damn, is it good for bringing in tourist money. Even then, that's still Riloris - Miria, whilst not a complete stranger to him, is a landscape he's unfamiliar with.

Eventually the rainforest begins to completely disperse and full daylight filters through. Trees are scattered across the grass in clumps and then in groups and then in ones, opening the land into a vast grassy field. The path ahead rolls over hills and far in the distance there are grand structures of rock pointing out from thick forests. Sprawling rivers wind like serpents, beautiful blue against an expanse of green, slithering into the trees, coiling around them possessively. Transitional lands like these are supposed to be claimed by no man, wild and free and touched only by the creatures that call them home, yet out there he sees what looks to be a camp, flying flags of the red Sanguis snake on a deep red backdrop.

Smock turns his dark eyes to Dawn with a frown. "You say these guys know you?"

Her eyes dart between him and Sister Abbey and she simply nods.

Silently they both watch as the horses pull them closer to the camp. When they're about halfway there, the man in the front turns around and shakes Brother Klaus awake. Slowly but surely he rises, putting his legs down and stretching out. He turns to Smock, revealing his deep brown eyes and a scar that reaches from cheek to cheek, little branches stemming from it like lightning came to rest upon his face. He raises a brow at the pirate which he mirrors playfully, then smiles as though that was the right decision, turning to the front and paying him no mind. Smock considers saying something, but can't find his words.

Once they reach the camp, the guards greet Sister Abbey kindly, shaking hands and asking how things have been. He pays little attention to the small talk at first, but eventually something catches his ear.

"...Yes, Grandfather Blight seems to be getting better. He looks younger and healthier every day," Sister Abbey is saying to a friendly-looking guard.

"About time," the guard replies with a chuckle. "He looked awful last time he came through, like he was on his way out."

"It was not his time, else Vampiris would have taken him," she responds. Despite the grim subject, she doesn't sound too bothered.

Smock, however, stiffens at the mention of that name. It's one he hasn't heard in very many years, especially not in such casual conversation. He turns to Dawn, leans in, his voice a very quiet whisper. "Vampiris?"

"Yeah, our family is religious. Do you not know who that is?" she responds casually. though she's mindful to match the hushed volume.

"I know, but finding others that do is very rare," Smock says, watching the confusion spread across her face.

"Other people don't know about Vampiris..?" Dawn asks, brows furrowed.

"No," he replies simply, casting his gaze across the others in the cart. There are only four people, but with the way everyone has been speaking, there's no doubt there are more at God's Lake. A whole group of people following Vampiris seems absurd.

Typically, their worshippers are singular people, begging for their suffering or the suffering of a loved one to be put to an end, a last-ditch effort, a cry to the God of euthanasia for a final solution. What could possibly draw a whole collection of people to worship them together?

I guess I'll find out when I meet 'em.

They get back on the road again soon enough, the guards waving them goodbye, a stark contrast to the situation that had him joining this little group on their way into Miria. Seeing Sanguis guards so joyful and friendly brings him a strange feeling, a sinking down in his stomach like a heavy anchor weighing him down. They slowly but surely shrink into the distance until they are mere ants on a green backdrop, and he'd give anything to crush them beneath his boots.

The interaction lingers in his mind. Vampiris' name brings him back to a time he doesn't think of too often, of people he may never see again and places he's long banished from. Their slender form, covered in scars and stitches, eyes and lips sewn closed, constantly bleeding with the pain of people everywhere, lays in a field in his memory, pale skin and white hair streaked red and bruised in purples and blues, nude with their body open to the sky, surrounded by weeds. He'd reached for them, but when his fingers brushed their skin new bruises blossomed there, and tears rolled down their cheeks. His sibling had pulled him back gently, saying, "There is nothing you can do."

Gently his sibling had sat cross-legged and lifted Vampiris' head into their lap, where they gently braided the suffering God's hair and sang to them with their sweet, light voice. Unable to move their lips, Vampiris hummed along, voice slightly hoarse. For a while he'd watched before being dismissed, and even then the God's frail body haunted his mind, laid out like an abandoned, forgotten corpse, suffering for people that didn't even know their name.

Smock wonders how they are now, whether his sibling still goes to them, if anything has changed. Maybe this will be my chance to find out.

After passing over the hills in the transition between Riloris and Miria, they enter through into a forest path. It's quite thick woodland, but the sun still shines through it, leaving it dense but well-lit. Bushes of flowers line parts of the path until it widens out into a dirt dual carriageway. It's beautiful and vast, and already Smock can understand why Miria is called the Wolf's Woods - there is no place more fitting for them than here.

Above their heads the lively sound of birdsong fills the forest with sound. Smock takes in a deep breath, inhaling the clear, almost soothing scent of the woods. It eases his nerves and he feels safe for the first time since getting fished out of the sea, even though he's in a stranger's cart and an unfamiliar terrain. Never has he found so much comfort in the land. In fact, it used to irk him to be on it for too long, but now even the thought of being out on the sea makes his stomach churn.

As they're rolling over a bridge atop a river, where the light shines bright on them, Dawn lets out a small, curious noise and points at Smock's hand. "You're married? Who's your wife? Or husband? Or partner?"

Her aura is upbeat and excited, but he's unable to meet it. He holds the hand in his other like it's wounded, staring at the sea blue gem with an emptiness. Nothing comes to the surface, no tears or pain, but he desperately wants to avoid the void feeling. Quietly he responds, "I had a wife."

Dawn immediately deflates, her smile fading. She shuffles in place like she's unsure what to do with herself, and then she murmurs a quiet, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he says gently, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "I'll tell you about her later, alright?"

The wheels of the cart roll off the wood and back onto dirt, quiet again. "Okay! I can't wait, I'm sure she was nice."

"She was," he watches as the thick trees pass them by, greens and pinks and even a few blues, erupting with rich colours as they always do in the beginning of the summer, now fully recovered from spring.

They roll on past huge hills. Somewhere along the way they even stop to watch a herd of deer peacefully grazing in the distance. Klaus rambles something about how peaceful they are, leaning over the side of the cart adoringly, and Smock quickly figures out that they stopped for him with how deeply he seems to appreciate it. The deer end up moving after a good fifteen minutes of them sitting there in silence, watching, and head deeper into the woods, closer to the hills.

For a while longer they travel, until the path transition into cobble, and becomes more orderly. The bushes at the sides return, covered in flowers, and trees entwined into archways sit above them like kind guardians, guiding them forth and sheltering them beneath their deep green leaves. The bushes transition into low cobble walls, then open into the main road of the village.

It's a small, friendly place, buildings made out of the rich wood of the surrounding forest. Smock is relieved to see somewhere that isn't run down after the unfortunate eyesore that is Deadeast. All around the place bubbles is pleasant, well-maintained flowers and bushes all around and lanterns hanging on ropes above, illuminating the land and houses below. On the main road there appears to be only two residential buildings, however there is another road that branches out in the middle to the side where there would no doubt be more. A small market area sits opposite it. Smock makes out a blacksmith's and another small, one-storey building. They stop the cart just outside of the village, pulling into the narrow spot next to the first house.

Brother Klaus gets up and goes to get out of the cart. Dawn gestures to Smock, who quickly gets the memo. "Uh, hey, mind if I come with you? I gotta send some letters."

"Yeah, sure. I need to pass by the post office anyway," the black-haired man shrugs, letting Smock get down first before going himself. Dawn smiles at him but stays put with the others in the front, clearly not coming along.

"Thanks," he says, a little uneasy. Dawn is friendly and upbeat, but he doesn't quite know how to feel about the others yet. He's half worried that Brother Klaus is going to come back without him and they're going to leave him behind, but he pushes it to the far back of his mind with a deep breath.

Together they head into the village, Smock following the other apprehensively. "So... Brother Klaus, huh?"

"Just Klaus," the man corrects with a shrug, his tone nonchalant, "you're not a part of my family so no need for the title. I didn't catch your name."

Smock clutches the strap of his bag. "It's Smock. Dawn pulled me up and saved me from a bunch'a Sanguis guards."

"Sounds like her," he chuckles, the sound somewhere between fondness and a bitter pity.

They turn into the market. Klaus goes straight to the butcher's stand, where he asks for 'the usual'. He hands over the money before he even sees the goods, and the stocky butcher hands over a bag full of what must be meat. They talk for a little after that, simply catching up, nothing important. Next Klaus goes to the stall with the fruit and other goods, and once again asks for 'the usual' to which he is given another bag. He hands it to Smock, who hesitates for a moment before grabbing it. The bag is quite light so he slings it over his shoulder, watching as Klaus grabs a wheel of something about the size of both of his hands and pays for it, passing that to Smock too.

"Dawn loves it," he says simply. Smock can't understand the label on the top of the wrap around it, reading 'κασέρι', so he shoves it into his inside pocket and makes a mental note to hand it to her back in the cart.

Klaus stands and looks around for a moment, as though thinking hard, before turning wordlessly back to the village. Smock, a bit disorientated by his sudden movements, manages to get on track and follow him to the small building he'd noticed. A little sign hangs above the door. Carved into it is a neat drawing of a letter sealed with wax.

Inside, the post office is very cozy. Everything is made with that rich wood and the light shining down on them is warm and orange. On the walls there are paintings and next to the desk is a series of storage cubes. Behind the desk and the clerk, there's a door, no doubt where the mail and deliveries are stored. There's a few utility items on shelves on the other side of the post office, making it double as a convenience store, but Klaus doesn't seem interested in that.

Smock, however, realises he has no envelope for the note. Whilst Klaus takes care of his business, Smock puts down his sack and heads to the back where he fishes out a small envelope that holds the note well enough. He checks through his belongings, takes out the note, reads over it, and then slides it into the envelope.

When he comes back to the desk Klaus is holding a package under his free arm. Smock hurries his business along, putting the letter down and addressing the clerk. "I need this to be sent to Seafarer's Shore, please."

"Sure thing," she responds, getting out her ink and quill from under the desk and writing it down on the back of the envelope. "And who should I address that to and from?"

"To Anguilla," he answers, "from Smock."

"Anguilla, like the pirate?" she asks with a raised brow and a slight smile.

"Yup, that's the one," Smock confirms, a little suspicious of her tone.

"Don't see people having business with famous pirates every day," she laughs, scrawling everything down. "I'll see to it that your letter is sealed and sent. That'll just be one drachma please, two obols for me and four for the courier."

"Nice that you see to it your couriers get paid well," Smock fetches his money pouch and, for her ease, fishes out six individual obols to hand over.

"Some of them put themselves at risk doing jobs like this, so they deserve it," she says as she tucks away the money in a pocket. "Thank you, and safe travels."

"Thank you too," Smock smiles her way, picks up the bag of goods, and follows Klaus out.

Once they get back into the cart and put down all the bags, they set back on the path, passing through the town. Dawn mentioned that the village was near to God's Lake, so he's relieved in knowing it shouldn't be too long left on their journey. A good four hours must have passed, if not more, since he got onto the cart; travelling from near the coast of Riloris into Miria was not a quick journey, after all.

Smock digs into his pocket and finds the wheel of something that Klaus had handed over. He hands it to Dawn, who seems to be off in another world until he catches her attention. For a moment she stares at it, as though dazed, but then her features brighten up and a huge smile crosses her face as she realises what it is.

"Did you get this for me?" she asks, unwrapping it to reveal what must be cheese.

"Klaus did," he answers with a light laugh, watching as she digs in, not bothering to ask for it to be cut. Ellamia would've surely been cheering her on, no stranger to tearing right into food without having it served up.

Mouth full, Dawn turns to Klaus, "Thank you so much!"

He doesn't look in her direction, but from where he's sitting Smock can see he's smiling too. "Yeah, whatever."

Dawn's digging into it like it's the most delicious thing she's ever tasted. "It's a Sanguis cheese," she says between mouthfuls, "they call it kasseri, and mama keeps telling me I shouldn't eat it on its own like this, but-" she gulps, "it's really good- you gotta try it."

Smock can't say no to that. She breaks a piece off and offers it to him, and he has to admit, it is really good. A mildly milky but salty flavour floods his mouth, and he can't help but think that this would be loved by pirates, and especially Ellamia - she would love the salty taste. Alas, pirates don't tend to trade cheese with the mainland, making their own instead and opting to trade for more useful resources, and lots of alcohol.

He nods happily. "Y'know what, you're right Dawn, that was good."

"Yeah," she beams, and with a giggle she extends a piece to Klaus, "hey, big brother, you have to have some now, as a thank you! This is so expensive, you have to-"

Klaus takes the cheese with a roll of his eyes. "It's nothing, really. Just thought of you, that's all."

"You're so soft," Dawn returns to eating, and soon enough she manages to finish the whole wheel, licking her fingers, looking completely satisfied. "That was so good."

"Sure seems like it was," Smock says fondly, relaxing back where he sits.

The path from here is a lot more tamed than the one earlier, looking a lot more like the beautiful, safe Miria that everyone speaks about, covered in winding cobble paths to every destination. As he watches it continue to go by, he dedicates to memory the name 'kasseri', and the 'κασέρι' label that had been on it. The symbols remind him of the map he has, and he swiftly puts together that this must be some proper language. Seeing as he's only seen it used by the Sanguises and their goons, he figures it must be theirs, but he's never heard of it, nor seen anything attempt to translate it.

Smock recalls something Dawn said, and decides to stir up conversation. "You mentioned your mama - what's she like?"

"My mama?" Dawn seems surprised by the question. She goes quiet for a few moments, reaching to touch her ears. Smock hadn't paid much attention to them, but as soon as he sees them he understands. She's clearly a half-elf, half human and by the look of her ears half wood elf - the little bumps on the underside are unmistakable. "Well, she's real protective of me, that's for sure... Doesn't like me talking to strangers, or anyone really..."

Smock hums thoughtfully, trying to find the right thing to say. "I guess some parents are just like that, she's probably worried about you getting hurt out here. I mean, you did pull a total stranger up into your cart, one running from guards too."

"Yeah, but you're fine! I'm fifteen now, I can handle myself," she protests. "I know a lot of people don't like half-elves like me, but I'll show them..."

"You've sure got a strong spirit," he laughs warmly. She's right - in a lot of places, there's no kindness reserved for half-elves. They're cast out by elves, called half-humans, and humans alike, with neither really wanting anything to do with them. With both heavily populating most large places in Aldelis, it's difficult to find anywhere that won't sling all kinds of abuse at them. "I think with that mindset you'll go far, kid."

"See!" Dawn throws out her arms, energetic. "I'm not sure what I'm gonna do, but I'm gonna be the best at it, and then everyone can kiss my a-"

"Language!" Sister Abbey calls from up front, and Dawn deflates.

"Sorry," she whines, pulling back her arms and crossing them tight, glaring out to the side.

"You'll stick it to 'em. I believe in you," Smock chuckles.

Dawn looks up at him. "Thanks... I want to make my mama proud."

"You will," he assures her, his voice gentle, "I'm sure of it."

"Yeah," she nods, pulling her knees up to her chest and snuggling in on herself.

Smock just barely manages to avoid slipping into a deep slumber, growing sleepy from the uneventful ride, when they begin to head up a hill, and Klaus clutches the bags in his hands. It's not too steep, the path built carefully to rise over the most gradual slope of the hill. The trees become sparse the closer they get to the top, and when he looks up Smock can make out what appears to be the top of a pyramidal building made of wood.

Confused, he tries to examine it further and make out anything that suggests his eyes are playing tricks, but it is indeed a pyramidal building, with the slope of the nearest side sliding all the way down to the ground. It's very large, about the size of a big church, and has no notable features from the outside apart from its doorway, which is an angular arc that protrudes from the frontal slope.

The cart is detached and left to the side of the building, and the horses are too, moved to a small stable. From the top of the hill, Smock can vaguely make out the way the trees gradually get lower the further out he looks, and on the other side he sees that there is a sudden drop and no trees for a while. Smock doesn't approach it yet, not wanting to wander from the group, but he notes to check out what's down there once the chance arises.

Carrying the bags for them, he follows the group to the doors, and watches as they're pulled open.

"Papa, we're back," Klaus calls out, beckoning everyone inside. He follows after Dawn and in front of Abbey and the other person from the cart, his eyes taking a moment to acclimate once he gets inside.

Inside, the building feels very spacious. The room they enter into is some kind of lounge, with spaces to sit all around and a carpet in the middle. In the middle of the far wall is an open doorway that leads into a very grand room. He can't quite make out what it is, and Dawn pulls him over to the seat to sit next to her so he doesn't get to figure it out.

He looks around, taking account of everything in the room. Abbey has set down the package from the post office on a side table next to one of the couches. There's a wood staircase to the left of the front door that goes up to a second floor, and underneath it a doorway from which a man walks through. he's dressed in a large black cloak and a black shirt, and looks almost identical to Klaus in his facial features. Where Klaus has a fringe, this person's hair is pulled back neatly and tied into a short ponytail. His eyes are a bright red and he wears a matching eyeshadow, both behind a pair of glasses. A scar cuts up from his right cheek up to the side of his nose. Smock sees black cross earrings hanging from his lobes.

The stranger embraces Klaus, squeezing him tight. "Welcome home Klaus. How was the journey?"

"Nice and easy. Brother Thomas didn't want to return with us, though," Klaus answers, pulling away from the hug. "Sister Dawn helped this stranger out and Sister Abbey invited him back. He's been useful."

All eyes turn to Smock. He stiffens uncomfortably in his seat as the stranger approaches and looks him over him with a hum. "Hello, welcome to my family's home. My name is Blight, you are?"

Grandfather Blight, he remembers as he looks over him. He expected someone... older. Yet, he recalls what Abbey said, and wonders whether she meant it in a literal sense, not a metaphorical one. "Name's Smock. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Smock," Blight says neutrally, reaching to shake his hand. "We can set you up for however long you need. We have a very special event planned for this upcoming theftera, if you'd like to stay."

Dawn tugs on his sleeve and he doesn't hesitate. "Yeah, sure. I'll stay."

"Excellent. Brother Telfan, would you prepare a bed for our friend here?" Blight asks, and the other person who had been in the cart, talking to Abbey, nods and heads upstairs. He turns back to the rest of the group and clasps his hands together brightly. "Well, I'd best get to making dinner then. Sister Dawn, Brother Klaus, Smock, you may all do as you wish. Sister Abbey, please fetch Mother Darla to help me."

Dawn leans in and whispers in Smock's ear. "That's my mama."

"The one that doesn't want you talking to strangers?" he returns light-heartedly, and she seems to catch on, shuffling away from him and trying to act as though she's got nothing to do with him at all. Smock does the same, leaning back in his seat.

Blight takes the sacks from Smock and heads through a door on the side he's sitting, no doubt some sort of kitchen. Klaus drapes himself over a couch opposite, getting cozy and closing his eyes.

Abbey comes down and Smock finally is able to pay attention to her appearance. She's got freckled ivory skin and long, wavy strawberry blonde hair. Her fringe flicks up at both sides, heavier on the other. She has lime green eyes and wears black eyeshadow that sits only on her upper eyelids. Like the others, she's wearing a red shirt, hers with a gold and red gem clasp on the collar, but instead of a black cloak she wears a blazer. There's a very sharp look about her, though it's not unpleasant.

Following her is a woman who resembles Dawn strikingly. She shares her same skin colour her dark eyes, her features. Her hair is dark brown but faded with age, with curls that she wears in a very tight, low bun, with ringlet bangs that fall midway down her neck. She wears a deep red lipstick that suits her well. A single scar crosses over her nose to her right cheek. Dressed in a beautiful brown dress with a red puritan collar, she comes down the stairs, a thick and slightly intimidating air about her, like an angry grandma coming to scold you.

Smock averts his eyes quickly, not wanting to seem like he's staring. His eyes settle on a painting on the wall, a landscape of the building from the outside.

Darla walks over, gently resting her hands on Dawn's cheeks. "No scratches or injuries this time? You were safe out there, didn't talk to anyone, right?"

"No mama, I'm fine," she says gently, "and I didn't speak to anyone. You're always telling me not to..."

"Good, you know how I worry about you," Darla places a kiss to her daughter's forehead, frowning and lowering her voice, as though trying to stop Smock from hearing. "Who is this stranger?"

"His name is Smock, he's staying with us for the night," Dawn replies, though she's quick to justify her knowledge, "that's what Brother Klaus told me."

Quieter now, Darla's voice is a whisper, "You know I don't want you talking to them."

"I'm sorry mama, he's my friend," she apologises sweetly, in a voice that nobody could be mad at.

"Of course," the lady sighs, taking her hands away from the girl's face and standing upright. She doesn't say a word to Smock nor Klaus, simply following Abbey into the kitchen.

Once Darla is in the kitchen and the door is closed shut behind her, Klaus stretches out with a noise and turns onto his side like a lazy cat. "Why's she always got to be such a killjoy?"

"Hey!" Dawn protests with a frown, "I know she's strict but she's still my mama."

"C'mon, if Mother Darla had it her way you'd be condemned to silence," Klaus argues. Smock can't help but agree.

"I know I know... She just worries a lot," she justifies, leaning her elbow on the side of the couch, resting her head on her hand.

"I mean, at least she's not totally stopping you from talking to folk," Smock interjects, offering a middle ground for them both to hang onto.

"Yeah..." Dawn sighs, and Klaus shrugs from across the room, sinking them into a slightly tense silence.

Smock feels awkward sitting in the middle of this, but he's not quite sure how to fix it, so he sits back and waits. Sure enough the smell of delicious food begins to waft in from next-door. It's very different to the usual odours of what pirates make, and his stomach rumbles just the slightest bit thinking about digging into some different food for once, though he could never truly be swayed away from his seafood.

Some time later Abbey pops her head out of the door. "Could you set the table please?"

Smock goes to get up, but Klaus waves him back down as he and Dawn head through into the open doorway into the other room. There's silence, then the sound of playful bickering, then a huge "OWW" from Dawn, followed by hysterical laughter, then concentrated silence, and finally Klaus calls back to Smock, "Come on in."

Curious as to what's in the room, he gets up right away and walks through.

Sprawling out in front of him is what would best be described as a church. Huge stained glass windows are situated on the furthest ends of the walls, which join into a point at the end, both portraying the same image of a red-haired being with their wrists bared, bleeding from them both. The image is shocking, but immediately strikes Smock as odd - Vampiris had white hair last he saw them. Alas, the possibility of their hair changing to reflect the blood and suffering of those they represent is not too strange, so he brushes it off, instead staring at the injured arms. Usually images on stained glass are a lot more... positive, displaying a deity's achievements, a moment in their history, or perhaps something they stand for, so seeing something so dark is quite a surprise. The red light filtering in through the glass shines down on an altar at the far end of the room, and the raised platform that it stands on.

Underneath the windows are statues baring their wrists to the ceiling, and he can make out what look like scars all over them, some deeper than others.

Along the sides of the room are pews, dusty and unused, and in the space between the front pew and the platform a long table has been set out and prepared with the cloth, plates, candle holder, and all. Dawn and Klaus are sitting next to each other on it looking a little too worn out for just setting a table, and he quickly figures what he heard was some sort of play-fight.

Smock approaches, feeling something odd as he walks past the pews, and then hovers behind a chair, unsure quite what to do with himself. "Where do I sit..?"

"I brought out a spare chair," Klaus gestures to his other side, where there's a spot free. It's right next to the head of the table, which he doesn't particularly like, but he sits down anyway. "Sorry. Darla would throw a fit if I put you anywhere near Dawn."

"I get it," Smock smiles, turning his eyes to the doorway when he hears footsteps.

Everyone that had been cooking comes out bearing covered platters. They place them in the middle of the table and take their own seats. Blight sits at the head of the table, next to Smock. Abbey sits opposite him and Darla opposite Dawn, leaving two seats open.

Sure enough Telfan comes to take his spot opposite Klaus soon after, bringing water and wine, and Blight begins to speak.

"Thank you to Abbey and Darla for helping me to prepare this wonderful meal - I hope you all greatly enjoy it. It is an honour to be able to share this dinner with you all, and with our dear guest, Smock, who we are blessed to be in the company of," he nods to Smock, who looks down, avoiding the gazes. "Let the spirit of Vampiris join us at this table and bless us and the food we eat and all we drink, akin to the flesh and blood that us humans cannot survive without, and allow us to continue to live full lives before our time is up and we are allowed rest from this life. May we all meet in the next."

"May we all meet in the next," everyone says together, then after a moment the adults take off the lids of the dishes, steam fluttering up into the air.

Beautiful, seasoned slices of red meat sit on one, a mix of vegetables and fruit in the other, and in the last a bowl of mash accompanied by two cups of sauce. Smock waits until last to dish his own up, taking the last pieces, though he leaves some for anyone wanting seconds.

The food is delicious. He tries every single thing offered and doesn't regret it, trying to pace himself in fear of looking rude. Klaus pours himself and Dawn some water, then takes the wine and fills Smock's glass.

"Thank you," Smock smiles, and Klaus simply chuckles in return.

"Where do you come from, Smock?" Blight suddenly asks.

Smock hesitates. The only person who knows he's even remotely linked to pirates is Klaus, and the reception to pirates anywhere except Aldelis is overwhelmingly negative. He finds something to settle on. "South-east Riloris, near the coast."

"Ah, what a lovely place - I hear the south-east has wonderful beaches," he smiles quite genuinely, sounding as though he is reminiscing.

"Yeah, tourists sure do love it," Smock replies simply, purposefully vague.

"I can imagine," Blight hums lightly. They make eye contact, and Smock can't help but feel uncomfortable under the vibrant red gaze. There's no way such a colour could be natural in a human. "What brought you upon my family?"

He takes a deep breath. He can't lie out of this one without the others noticing.

Abbey quickly pipes up for him, and he holds his breath. "We found him a while away from Deadeast, at the roundabout. I stopped and asked where he was headed, and turned out he was heading to Miria too, so I figured I'd take him through with us. Turned out he had no urgent business, and I thought with the whole event on theftera, he might want to stay."

"Yeah. I haven't really got much to do right now, and the hospitality is much appreciated," Smock affirms, beyond relieved by Abbey's quick answer.

"Well that's wonderful to hear. It's great to be of assistance to a traveller," Blight chuckles warmly, striking up conversation with Abbey.

The rest of the dinner passes by in a haze for Smock. He's startled by the sound of Klaus' voice and a gentle shove against his arm. "Hey, would you help us put everything away?"

A little dazed, he hesitates, simply blinking at the other, before his brain kicks into gear. "Oh, uh, yeah- Just tell me what to do."

Everyone clears out, sharing conversation, with Darla grabbing Dawn's hands across the table and saying something far too quiet to hear to her before getting up and going too. Together the remaining three put everything away, moving the table and blowing out the candles and moving everything clean into a storage unit behind the pews. Klaus runs the dishcloth and plates into the kitchen to be washed, and they stand and appreciate their hard work once it's all done.

"Not bad work for a bullshitter," Klaus laughs. He looks into Smock's eyes, playful, and he feels a little unwell.

He tries to come up with a defense for himself. "...Not many people are-"

"Hey, I'm kidding, it's cool," Klaus rolls his eyes, brushing past him, light on his feet. "Anyway, wanna play some board games?"

"Say no, Klaus always cheats," Dawn huffs bitterly, crossing her arms.

Smock's nerves are still frayed, so he pauses for a moment, gathering himself, but with a very deep breath and some mental reassurance, he supposes games don't sound so bad.