(Our) Monsters

The only place his “lead” had led him was straight into a dead end, and while Yskander had been prepared for that possibility, that didn’t mean he wasn’t disappointed. He’d clung so fiercely to his hope this time, and honestly, he might’ve still been out there, had it not been for the letter.

The day before he made the call to head back to shore, Marius’s bird had landed on the deck of his ship, a scroll nestled within the carrier strapped to its back. Yskander had made sure he was completely alone before he’d read it, but he found little comfort in the neat, familiar handwriting. Not because of the sender – no, it had nothing to do with the sender – but because of the harrowing message it delivered.

There was a monster, about a day’s travel north of Faline, and Marius was going after it.

After docking the Bane of Charybdis in Faline’s port, he gave his crew the rest of the week off, and retreated to his home away from home: The Dragon’s Pearl. 

He’d discovered the tea (and tattoo) parlor a few years ago following its resurrection by the owner, an imposing ex-naval officer named Rashida. At least, “imposing” had been Yskander’s first impression of her. With her short-cropped hair, muscular build, and the scarlet tattoos that wound up her arms, she definitely looked the military part, and Yskander had every ounce of faith that she could snap him over her knee with ease. 

He’d quickly learned that she was a friendly individual, while still maintaining her air of professionalism, and she was rather open about her military past (though she’d always been vague about why she no longer ran with the navy). On his first visit, the two had bonded quickly over their love for green tea and the ocean. She’d expressed genuine interest in his bestiary, and he’d spent countless hours sharing stories of the sea beasts he’d dedicated his life to hunting. 

He'd also performed for her patrons a handful of times, playing the fiddle or dancing to jaunty music. Yskander had quickly found that the Pearl’s crowd tended to tip far better than any tavern he’d performed in.

In the depths of his heart, Yskander already knew what his decision was: he’d be going after the monster, too. So, why was he filled with such hesitation? 

He knew why, deep down. He knew exactly why, and he needed a cup of tea to clear his head and come to his senses.

Today, the tea house was quiet. As the tiny bell above the door announced his entrance, two regular patrons at a nearby table looked up and waved in greeting. He returned the gesture, and the smaller patron leaned into their companion and whispered something about “cool fiddle dude.” That made him smile. 

He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of herbs and fresh soil and ink that hung heavy in the humid air. The door swung shut behind him, and he stepped further into the parlor, running his fingertips over a thick, verdant vine that drifted down from the rafters above. Tiny, pink flowers were beginning to bud amidst its leaves, providing a vibrant pop of color against all the green. Aurum padded obediently at his side, sniffing the air as the variety of scents no doubt overwhelmed her olfactory region.

Across the room and behind the counter, Rashida had her back turned to him. From where he stood, it looked as though she was tending to a small, potted plant. One of her employees – a bubbly non-mage girl named Lorelei, who couldn’t be more than twenty years old – stood at the front of the counter, wiping down its surface with a rag. 

Lorelei looked up first, meeting Yskander’s gaze and immediately perking up. “Captain Wake!” she exclaimed, much to Ysk’s chagrin. She didn’t have to call him that, he’d told her as much time and time again, but she never stopped insisting. These days, he didn’t have the energy to argue, even if the title made his soul shrivel up a little more each time.

Rashida’s posture straightened immediately, and she turned to greet him as he approached the counter. “Yskander,” she said, removing her thin leather gloves and placing them beside the plant she’d been potting. He recognized the three-pointed, deep red leaves of wormroot, an herb known to be a highly effective sleep aid, and one that he knew Rashida had quite a bit of trouble keeping in the past. This specimen looked relatively healthy, however, with sturdy, erect leaves and tiny white flowers beginning to bloom towards the top of it. 

He'd learned way more about plants than he ever thought he’d learn, just from hanging out at the Pearl. He rested his arms against the counter and leaned forward, his gaze darting between the two women as he offered them both a warm smile. 

“Any luck this time?” Rashida asked, and Yskander winced. He’d been pretty excited to tell her about this potential lead on Charybdis when he’d first caught wind of it, and was sure the look on his face told her everything she needed to know, because her grin faded quickly. 

He shook his head. “No, unfortunately. I should’ve known it’d be a dud; Charybdis has never been sighted in our waters during winter. I imagine he probably sets off in search of warmer climes.” He shrugged, drumming his fingers on the countertop. “It’s just been so long. I was hopeful.” 

A frown tugged at the corners of Rashida’s lips, and Lorelei gave a quiet, “Aww…” Yskander felt a pang of guilt for making them feel bad for him. That hadn’t been his intention, and he wasn’t big on sympathy. He waved a hand dismissively, putting on his showiest smile and squaring his shoulders. 

“But, it’s okay! There’s plenty of other fish in the sea, right?” Lorelei burst into a fit of laughter, even though that was certainly the twentieth time she’d heard him make that joke. He appreciated her. “Can I do the jasmine green tea?” he asked the girl, and she gave him a thumbs up. 

“Sure can!” 

Rashida began untying her apron. “Make enough for two,” she added, folding the piece of clothing and placing it on the counter beside her wormroot plant. 

“On it!”

While Lorelei dove into her tea brewing, Rashida stepped out from behind the counter and extended an arm to Yskander, gesturing for him to walk with her. “We’ve got some catching up to do.” 

Yskander lifted an eyebrow at her; it hadn’t been that long since he’d last been here to chat with her, had it? He nodded finally and allowed her to lead him into a more private area of the tea shop, one of the nooks often used for business discussions or other important meetings. Yskander slid into the cushioned seat, and Aurum took her place curled up at her feet. They both watched as Rashida whisked the thick curtain over the entryway shut. There was a stiffness to her movements that Ysk recognized as anxiety, and a heavy feeling settled in his stomach. Typically, these areas were reserved for conversations not meant to be overheard. For Rashida, this meant she was either about to tell him a less-pleasant story from her past for the sake of illustrating a lesson, or had something to say about magic that she didn’t want any of the non-mages to hear. Ysk had a pretty good feeling this was about to be the latter.

She stood in front of the curtain for a moment, as if steeling herself, before finally taking her seat and resting her elbows on the table between them. 

“Have you heard about the fires?”

She didn’t waste time with flowery introductions or pointless small talk. She’d never been the type to.

Yskander’s hand almost flew to his chest, where Marius’s letter was tucked neatly into the inner breast pocket of his cloak, but he stopped himself.            “Sommerang, right?” he said, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. His skin crawled when Rashida nodded, and he felt Aurum shift by his feet. His familiar sat up and rested her muzzle against his knee, and Yskander looked down at her with a wistful smile, patting the top of her head.

“They say it’s a monster. A huge skeleton engulfed in flame.”

Yskander was silent for a long moment as he mulled on Rashida’s words. He wasn’t looking at her, but could feel her gaze studying him, gauging his response. His silence alone probably told her plenty. 

There was a shuffling on the other side of the curtain, and then the sound of someone softly clearing their throat. Lorelei. 

“Come in,” Rashida called, and Yskander’s gaze flickered up to her, finding she was still staring him down. 

Lorelei whisked the curtain aside and leaned in to place their tray of tea on the table between them, grinning as if blissfully unaware of the morbid subject matter they’d been discussing. “Enjoy!” she said cheerily, and Yskander thanked her before she scurried off. 

Rashida poured them both a cup of tea from the elegant jade teapot and slid his mug towards him. “Thank you,” he murmured, spooning a few sugar cubes into the steaming liquid. Rashida took hers bland and raised the cup to her lips, blowing on it a few times before taking a sip. Yskander had no idea how she didn’t burn herself, drinking her tea fresh out of the pot. He sighed and leaned back in his seat, deciding to let his drink cool a bit. “So… this monster,” he began, his tone suggesting he’d rather talk about anything else, even though Marius’s letter was half the reason he was here in the first place. “What about it?” 

Rashida shrugged and clinked her teacup against its tiny saucer. “Thought maybe you’d be going after it. Hunting monsters is your thing, isn’t it?”

“I hunt sea beasts,” he clarified, “from a ship with giant weapons fit for that type of thing.”

She snorted. “You’re a mage, aren’t you? You’ve never fought a real monster before?” Yskander knew exactly what she meant by “real” monster: one of them – a mage – who had hit a point of no return. He wrinkled his nose at her implication. 

“Of course I have,” he said too quickly. “It’s just not normally my thing. And sleep magic doesn’t do much good in a monster fight, anyway.”

“It doesn’t?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. She took another sip of tea and made a soft mmm sound. “Seems like the type of thing that would come in handy.” 

Yskander shook his head. “It’s not strong enough to put a whole monster to sleep.” He finally took a sip of his tea, frowned, and dumped two more sugar cubes into it. Rashida sighed as he did so, and he thought she sounded almost disappointed. He furrowed his brows and fixed her with a sour look, which she ignored. 

“So, you’re not going to join the effort?” she asked. 

“I didn’t say that,” he said, indignant. His breast pocket suddenly felt heavy. Trying to ignore the feeling, he fired back with, “Are you?” 

She lifted one hand in a shrug. “You know, for the first time in… gods, I don’t know how long… I’ve been considering it. I think about the Miasma, and how poorly the Order and the Archon handled him.” She paused in her monologue, taking a long, thoughtful sip of tea. Her face twisted slightly, but Yskander had a feeling it had nothing to do with the taste of her drink. He waited with bated breath for her to speak again. “And after that, the beast in the Sunless Jungle. The Crone, I think they called her? I kept telling myself I was going to head out to the jungle and help the fight, but I couldn’t work up the nerve to actually leave, and by the time I did, word got back that she’d already fallen.”

Yskander stared at Rashida for a long time, and for once she wasn’t looking at him, but at some spot on the wall behind him, somewhere far above his head. Why was she telling him this? He liked to think they were friends – or if nothing else, colleagues – but Rashida never struck him as the type to talk so openly about herself. Sure, she’d shared stories from her past in the navy, but that was different. He could tell that she distanced herself from the Rashida in those stories, as if they’d taken place in an alternate universe instead of this one. The only reason he knew that this was deeper than those tales was because he recognized it personally: this was cowardice. 

At least, that was what Rashida thought about herself, that she was a coward. He recognized it because he’d been in those same shoes before, beating himself up for decisions that he should’ve made but didn’t, or didn’t make fast enough. He didn’t know what exactly she was running from, or hiding from, but it was in clear conflict with her personal values. She wanted to do the right thing.

Once a military dog, always a military dog. 

His mother had repeated those words to him a handful of times when she’d still been alive; much like Rashida, she’d been ex-navy, too. And while Yskander couldn’t relate to that part, he’d heard enough stories from his mother – and had been through enough horrors of his own – to be able to empathize. 

He opened his mouth a few times to speak, but each time, no words came out. Whatever he’d been about to say, it continued to die in his throat. Finally, she beat him to the punch, any trace of that forlornness from before having fled completely. She was back to her pleasant self. “So, I figured if you were heading up that way, you could use someone to watch your back, make sure you don’t die a fiery death.” She smirked at him, and he opened his mouth to argue, but she was quick to cut him off. “Because I know damn well you weren’t planning on telling Isabel where you were going.” 

Dang. She got him there. Was he that easy to read, or did Rashida know him far better than he’d originally thought? 

Yskander sighed and let his shoulders slouch, hanging his head. No, he hadn’t planned on telling Isabel, because he didn’t want her to worry the entire time, and he definitely didn’t want her trying to accompany him; this was supposed a break for his crew, and she was included in that. A monster’s path was no place for a non-mage. He hunted sea beasts for a living, and yet every time an actual monster – a corrupted mage – popped up, Isabel panicked like she wouldn’t see him again if he went off to join the fight. He knew her worry came from a good place, but he wished she’d have more faith in him. His magic might not be the most effective against a monster, but he at least had some sense of self-preservation. Most of the time. 

His hand flew to his chest, no effort made to stop the movement this time, touching the spot where the letter was. “I wasn’t originally planning on going, but… there’s someone I need to check on. I dunno, I just… have this awful feeling.”

He took another sip of his tea, watching Rashida raise a brow at him from the corner of his eye. “Someone you need to check on?” she said, poorly concealing her amusement. 

Heat rose to his face, and he developed an intense, sudden interest in the liquid inside of his teacup. He cleared his throat, replacing his cup on the saucer and doing his best to remain casual. “Yeah. I’ve got a friend who was supposed to be up that way,” he said, unable to meet Rashida’s gaze for fear that she’d know there was more to it than that. 

If she saw through his half-truth, she didn’t let on, and Yskander nearly sighed in relief as she simply nodded. “I see,” she said, but her tone betrayed her smile. “It’s settled then. I’ll accompany you to Sommerang, make sure you get there in one piece, and once you’re reunited with your friend and I’m reassured you’re in good hands, I can leave you to it and do my own thing. Wouldn’t want to third wheel, after all.”

Yskander pulled a face at the last comment, but chose not to acknowledge it. “Really, you don’t have to. I’m not that accident prone.” He sighed and brought himself to look back at her. She was pouring herself another cup of tea, and she held up her free hand to stop him from speaking further. 

“Look, you’re doing me a favor, really,” she said nonchalantly. “Giving me a reason to get out of this sorry city for a little while and remember who I am, and what I used to fight for.” There was a faraway look in her eyes. “Remind myself that I still have a purpose, you know?”

He hadn’t expected this conversation to take such a heavy turn, but Yskander was a little grateful to have the attention off of him for now. “Of course you have a purpose. The Dragon’s Pearl wouldn’t be here without you. This place means a lot to plenty of people around here—”

Rashida fixed him with a suddenly-harsh glare that suggested this matter wasn’t up for discussion. He quickly shut his mouth. While he’d fully intended to make the trek north on his own, perhaps it’d be nice to have company. He wasn’t all that used to traveling alone. 

“Will the Pearl be alright while you’re gone?” he finally asked, his voice sounding smaller than intended. “Who will look after it?”

Rashida’s expression softened, apparently glad that he wasn’t questioning her choice any further. She lifted her cup to her lips, taking another long drink before responding. “It’ll be fine,” she insisted. “I have the utmost faith that Hel and Lorelei will be able to hold down the fort while I’m gone. They’re both very independent women, believe it or not.”

He studied her for a long time, then nodded. His gaze fell to his familiar, her chin still resting in his lap, though her golden eyes had drifted shut. He finished off the rest of his tea. “Alright,” he said. “As long as you’re sure.” He already knew she was, but it felt important to reiterate. “I was planning on leaving today. This afternoon, ideally.”

She nodded, seeming to take the last sip of her own tea before replacing the cup on its saucer. “I can be ready by the top of the hour,” she said, grinning. “I pack light.” At that, Rashida stood up from her seat, signaling the end of this conversation, possibly before either of them could change their minds. She reached over the table to grab his now-empty teacup, piling it onto the tray that Lorelei had brought.

“Sounds good,” he said. “I’ll meet you back here soon, then.” He patted the top of Aurum’s head, and she stood up, backing away and waiting eagerly for his next move. Yskander rose from the table and moved to the closed curtain. He reached his hand toward it, and then paused, hesitating. He glanced over his shoulder at Rashida as she tidied up the table and collected everything onto the tray. “Thank you, by the way.”

She lifted the tray and looked up at him, cocking her head. “For what?” she asked.

Yskander was quiet for a few long seconds, as if deciding what he wanted to thank her for exactly. The company? The reassurance and encouragement? The slight kick in the ass?

“The tea,” he said finally, beaming at her impishly, and then he slipped through the curtain. Perhaps that was a little presumptuous, but he knew full well she wouldn’t have let him pay for it anyway.