| 514, Spring 21
The weather really was outstanding. Marina rarely paid attention to the weather, as it was irrelevant to her, but today was an exception. Syna's bright, but coolly white light streamed onto the domes of Lhavit; the prismatic glass casting colorful reflections across the roads and walls below. But it was far from summer yet. The hunched figures of people moved briskly about their business, wrapping their cloaks and coats tightly around their bodies. It was a futile attempt to protect themselves from the sting of the chilly spring air.
But the creeping cold did nothing to lessen the spectre's anticipation of today's events. She was so excited as she floated through the modestly populated streets that she forgot to move her legs; an unforgivable breach of finer ghostly etiquette. But that wasn't important at the time; the person she was on her way to meet wasn't the kind to be impressed by refined antics alone.
Marina had made an appointment with Zeran, the eccentric pursuer of many goals, at the city gates. Ever since their initial encounter, the two have been stumbling sporadically on each other at Elena Lariat's studio, as they both plied their trades there. However, those encounters were limited to small-talk and teasing. Finally, an opportunity arose for their paths to intersect for real again.
The ghost was eager to get out of the city. To her, trips into the wilderness were a welcome way of recreation. There were far more sources of danger to a ghost in the city than in the wild, so, paradoxically, Marina felt much safer out in the bushes, among monsters. For fragile corporeal creatures, the truth was the opposite. Having to leave the city was a harsh trial for many; considering that Elena was in the habit of dumping her dirty work on others, her subordinates would frequently find themselves on the short end of that stick. In that situation, an ethereal sidekick could make matters easier. Or harder. With such fickle creatures, every step was a gamble.
Having finally arrived at the gate, Marina scanned her surroundings with a sweeping gaze. She was disappointed to find no signs of the familiar cloaked figure anywhere. Was she early? Or was she so late that he got tired of waiting and left? Was it even the right day? Punctuality was not one of the spectre's strong points; a weakness she shared with much of her kin. Not even thinking of asking for the exact time, Marina decided to at least confirm that she wasn't late a week or two. Putting on her most polite and civilised countenance, the girl approached one of the gate guards and asked what day it was. While somewhat bewildered, the guard replied never the less. His answer coincided with the date agreed upon with Zeran, which was somewhat relieving.
After bowing her head and thanking the guard, the ghost returned to the small plaza in front of the city gate. The plan of action was clear: wait until the sun goes down, then return to the studio. This would seem like a huge waste of time, but once again, the dead are never in a hurry. When measuring time, day cycles were Marina's smallest unit. The lack of Tanroa's touch and breath were both a blessing and a curse.
The sun was still climbing, and the activity on the road was increasing slowly. Although the gate has been standing open for some time already, it was still only morning. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to see if there was anything interesting in this part of town; Marina hadn't explored it before. What were the buildings around the square? One inn, some private apartments, a warehouse, a customs office... For such a flamboyant city as Lhavit, this place was rather small, dull and unwelcoming. Judging from this, Lhavit was probably not used to getting many visitors, at least not from this side. Perhaps the port was a little more active?
But soon enough, something caught her eye: a hardware shop on the edge of the square, right next to the city wall. It sparked her curiosity, as well as several practical questions. Has Zeran taken any steps to prepare for the excursion? The spectre wasn't much of a worrier even when it came to her own safety, let alone someone else's. But she knew that Zeran was the kind of man that would strut out of town barefoot if the mood struck him, and dragging back his corpse was not on the schedule. Without giving it much more thought, the ghost decided to pay the store a visit.
Observing manners as usual, Marina extended a soulmist pseudopod and gently pushed open the door instead of soaking through it, like she could have. The bells hanging on the door gave off a gentle resonance as the peace inside of the shop was disturbed. Compared to how it looked on the outside, the place was rather small. Working tools and materials of all shapes and sizes were arranged in neat stacks on the floor, with the more delicate ones hung in lines across the walls. Across from the entrance, an older man was standing behind a counter; no doubt the owner. A coarse-looking, rugged man, he obviously spent most of his life working with metal. Thin tufts of gray hair adorned his balding head, and a set of coal-stained leather overalls hugged his girthy form. Reacting to the doorbells, he spoke up in a hoarse voice.
"Welcome to..."
He stopped mid-sentence, squinting at the door in confusion. Realising the problem, Marina materialised, solidifying her faded shape into something the old man could see. She offered a small bow as she did so. The old man cackled a little; he seemed relieved.
"My bad, my bad! These eyes start to betray me. Welcome to Aaron's Hardwares. Gearing up for adventure, miss?"
The proprietor, evidently named Aaron, wasn't a stranger to ghosts, considering how quickly he got his bearings. He eyed Marina with a slightly amused gaze, as if he already knew everything about her. And, well, he already deducted everything he needed to know: she wasn't going to buy anything. Really, a ghost in a hardware store? Still, he didn't plan to chase her away, his gaze merely following her smudged form as it floated from article to article.
Marina examined the various items in the store. Tools for construction, metalsmithing, woodcarving, pottery; the spectre even recognised some basic clamps and braces used in magecraft. There was equipment to supply nearly every craft. However, none of this was of interest to her right now. She shifted her attention to the counter, which itself was half-buried under assorted gubbins. These particular gubbins were somewhat different from the rest of the articles. Lengths of rope, rolled-up tents, mountain picks, canned food, torches... considering that the store was adjacent to the gate, there was no doubt that this was the place for people to stock up on traveling supplies before they left town.
Indeed, most of the people that the ghost saw leaving through the gate earlier were strapped with some serious baggage, many of which were clearly from this store. These people were wise. In Mizahar, there was no such thing as an overprepared traveler. Marina decided that she definitely needed to bring Zeran's attention to this, in case he wasn't already armed to the teeth in the face of the wilds. After all, Marina knew very little of the fellow's past. Maybe he was quite the experienced hiker.
Bowing politely to the storekeeper again, the wraith pushed open the door and left the store. The sun was still in the same place as before; only a few minutes must have passed. Allowing her image to fade to its normal, half-visible state, Marina took a vantage position from which she had an overview of the plaza and the gate. There was nothing left to do but wait. |
|
by Marina Agamand on April 3rd, 2014, 11:15 pm 
