A Favor [Rhode]

[Seven Xu]

67th Spring, 511 AV

If Seven kept frequenting the baths every day, he'd be broke before he even found work. There was no way he could continue a lifestyle of cleanliness and being well-fed if he simply kept doing map work for free.
Seven exhaled as he walked through the narrow streets of the Warehouse District. The bell had chimed for the 8th hour only moments before Seven wandered by The Tooth and Claw and the early morning air smelled of the ocean, a scent that nearly stung the inside of his nose now. It wasn't refreshing at all. Seagulls blathered on on top of warehouse rooftops and merchants from afar were settling in with their kiosks, carts, and sometimes even simple blankets in which wares were spread out with crude prices written on tags beside them. There didn't appear to be a strong knight presence as of yet, but the day just appeared to be getting started. Strange, in Lhavit the city would be winding down now, its nocturnal citizens settling down to sleep for the entirety of the hot day. It had taken some time for Seven to adjust to a diurnal lifestyle.
Hands in pockets, the albino sidestepped a pair of sailors feverishly carrying a relatively lavish woven carpet, long, red and tightly coiled.
Seven stood out like a beacon against the dusty streets, yellow under the early sunlight and cloudless sky. He was dressed well. Black trousers neatly pressed, the collar of his white cotton shirt with the top button lazily, but purposefully undone, rested on on top of his thin black wool-blend jacket. His well-combed white locks, clean and as stainless as his shirt. But more than anything, it was the fact that he was, in over two weeks ... nearing twenty days, the only being of Symenestra origin that he had seen in the city. Seven's stomach flip-flopped and his lips tightened into a frown at the bleak thought.

This new life he had made for himself wasn't quite as glamorous as he had hoped. The apartment he was renting was dingy, whoever had it before him had little concern for tidiness. There was little light inside and he couldn't see the night sky due to there being no windows in the facility. He had run out of the food he had brought into the city with him and the pain of hunger was beginning to set in, not only in his stomach but in his mouth where bitter, saliva-like and unwelcome venom had started producing itself. Seven swallowed, grimaced, and reached up to wipe the corners of his mouth with his thumb and index finger. Of course he had money, but without a job he had been afraid to spend a copper. Speaking to those he met while his search continued, they hinted at travel being a big possibility in his potential line of work, and with a body like his, to seek out a body guard if he wanted to even survive a job.
Seven knew all too well of the dangers that lurked beyond city walls.

"Hey! Get back here!" The scream of a merchant rang over every other sound in his head, even his own thoughts. Before he knew it, a shady figure barreled towards him, dropping a brass vase in his arms before disappearing into the slowly gathering crowd. Seven's pale fingers wrapped around the handles of the ornate vase as he looked it over. What kind of moron would steal in the light of day in such a city?
As his gaze lifted towards general direction of the cry he had heard earlier and his lofty, absent-minded brain drifted from thoughts of the thief, a meaty fist met his cheekbone and a surge of severe pain coursed through his entire body.
"That'll teach you to steal from me!" The gruff merchant ripped the vase from Seven's limp fingers before the boy fell to a heap in the street, dust billowing around him. Forehead resting against the ground, he felt his stomach turn and nausea setting in. A foot swiftly met his side and he was knocked over onto his back. He stared, in shock, up at the merchant who had decided to take this supposed thief into his own hands rather than alert a knight. The merchant's eyes widened in astonishment and disgust as he noted Seven's features. "So you're a Widow. Not enough to snatch up innocent women, you've taken to petty thievery as well?" He spat. "You're lucky I don't break every bone in your body for that fact alone. Stay away from my cart, or the next time knights be damned I'll have your head."

Seven remained silent, his heart pounding in his chest as the merchant left him on the ground. He didn't dare move. He tasted something metallic, then swiftly came to the realization that it was his own blood. Seven had bitten down pretty good on his tongue when he was struck and it was filling his mouth. He rolled over onto his stomach again and gagged, tears filling his eyes. One arm propped his head off of the ground by a couple of inches. A mix of venom and blood dripped down his pale, dry lips to the ground in neat droplets. While the boy retched, nothing came from his empty stomach. Seven's cheek throbbed in pain and with his free hand he was clutching his side.

Get up. Get up before a knight sees you.

[Rhode]

Rhode looked over the small throng of humans that had gathered at the sound of the merchant's cries, then looked past the crowd to the small, white-haired boy, spitting up on the ground beneath him. He could hear the gossip winding its way through the group.

"A Symenestran?"
"I heard they drink blood three times a day!"
"Bless that merchant's heart for stopping him in his tracks."
"He's getting what he deserves, now."

Rhode clenched his fists and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to start slugging them. This whole situation was disgusting to him. Typical Human behavior. They think they're any better than any other race, but they wouldn't be saying these things if he was on his feet, baring his claws. Making up his mind, he walked around the group, and stood between them and the boy, looking down at him, still clutching his side. The crowd went silent for a moment, but only for a moment, as he was sure he heard "Eypharian" being whispered somewhere behind him. As far as I'm concerned, Symenestran, Human, you're all the same. Let the superior people teach you how to act, he thought to himself, bending down on one knee and extending his lower right hand to the Symenestran. "On your feet now, child," he said quietly, so only the boy could hear his words. Rhode took deep, measured breaths, pretending that the pale-skinned boy on the ground in front of him was in fact a fellow Eypharian. "Everyone's making eyes at you, like you're something they can just consume with a glass of ale. So get up."

[Seven Xu]

Seven was not one to bear fang and claw and fight, no. Instead he would rather curl into a ball and disappear. Humans that gathered around him were not much help. Whispering, ridiculing. By the time the Eypharian had gotten to him, Seven was a trembling mass of blood, venom and tears. Reminiscent of a spider that hadn't died after one hit but instead curled into a tight ball as if to play dead. He saw the extended hand from the corner of one blurry eye and reached out to take it. Seven didn't recognize the voice, and when he lifted his head and wiped tears and blood from his cheek, he didn't recognize the stern, but fair face that the voice belonged to.
Forget the face.
Seven's bloody lips parted in a slight amount of shock at the man's sets of extra appendages. He was Eypharian. Seven had never seen one in the flesh, only in creation legends. They were an old race. A noble race. Why would he ever help a muddied Symenestra half-blood? He should be in the crowd of onlookers.

"Thank you." Seven choked on his words, but the man's face didn't change. Seven took the hint and struggled to his feet, taking a sharp, painful breath. The albino's side felt like it was on fire, his nose and mouth still gushed blood, staining his beautiful white skin. Otherwise, his clothing remained in tact and he took a moment to smooth out his coat and wipe drying blood from his chin before it dripped onto his white dress shirt.

The group shifted out of their way as they walked. Seven's eyes remained fixated on the ground, eyes watery and bloodshot. It hurt to speak, but it was impolite not to. There was a sense of urgency in his soft voice. "We should probably leave this district. As much as I am grateful... you have involved yourself, and the knights are not easy on non-humans. Once they show up, we may be in trouble." Seven paused, looking pained. "I apologize."

Seven brushed back silver-white tresses and looked around. "This way." He winced, and the pair slipped quietly out of the Warehouse District.

[Rhode]

The boy walked in front of him through the crowd, avoiding their gazes, while Rhode made an effort to lock eyes with anyone who happened to look towards him, with a look that said 'That's how it's done'. As they left the crowd behind, Rhode was ready to leave, his self-imposed mission completed, when the boy spoke. "We should probably leave this district. As much as I am grateful... you have involved yourself, and the knights are not easy on non-humans. Once they show up, we may be in trouble." After a brief pause, he added, "I apologize."

Part of Rhode wanted to just break away, and continue on his way, but he wasn't so conceited as to not realize the truth when it was spoken: the Syliran Knights were never far away in this city, and what the boy had said to him had got him thinking. The Symenestran nearly threw him for a loop with an apology -- the few apologies he had gotten over the years were usually coaxed by the sight of a knuckleduster ready to collide with their faces. It was the first time he had gotten one like this, and it left him baffled, though he kept his face from showing it. Is it respect? Or pity? he asked himself, as the boy subtly brushed his hair back. Or something else, I wonder...

"This way." If he was going to leave, now was the time to act, but Rhode's curiosity was eating him alive, and so he followed. As he walked silently behind the Symenestran, the streets became less and less crowded. It wasn't long before he decided to break the ice.

"So tell me, Symenestran: what brings you to a city...like this?" he asked pleasantly. He had planned to say 'a city filled with lesser life', before remembering that the child was in that particular demographic. "Besides getting beat on by humans, of course."

[Seven Xu]

Upon a closer look, Seven looked rather human. In fact, he had no claws. His arms and legs were of average human length and the only traits that really gave him away were his pale complexion, wide crimson eyes and the virtually harmless fangs that peeked out from beneath his lips when he opened his mouth.

"I did not steal anything from that merchant." Seven retorted with a shaky voice, feeling as if he needed to clear the air on his reputation before anything. He was not poor and he was certainly not a petty thief. Pink rose in his pale cheeks and he attempted to force a genuine smile through his aching jaw. Any look of judgment a haughty human would give the Eypharian was not present in Seven's face. He had not expected the Eypharian to continue to follow him, but he certainly appreciated not having to leave the scene alone. "That is a complicated question, and something I have been asking myself more and more lately."

Seven's smile quickly faded and a pair of pale fingers lifted to touch his face. Tears threatened the corners of his eyes as a sharp pain ran from his cheek to his jaw and it nearly stopped him in his tracks. Despite all his shortcomings, Seven had always been very attractive, and vain about keeping his appearance. He would be considered pretty before one would call him handsome with his soft, rounded features and petite frame -- at five-foot-six he barely came to the Eypharian's shoulder. Beautiful, if not bordering on androgyny. "I ..." Seven's voice cracked, his fingers trembled and a crimson gaze shot back to the Eypharian. "My name is Seven. I owe you that, at least, you ... may have just saved my life." Another thin smile. Between the desperation of finding his kin and the dread that was boiling up inside of him, he wanted to burst into tears.

As they approached the Citadel, Seven's feet began to feel heavy and he slowed to a stop, staring deadpan at the crowd ahead. No doubt a knight would question the blood on his face. "Uhnn ..." His head began to swirl in a mixture of worst case scenarios and blood loss, and he was quickly overwhelmed in the heat of the baking sun. Seven's mouth opened and closed a few times as if wanting to say something, but instead he spat up more blood, blank scarlet eyes rolled skywards and he collapsed in a heap, unconscious.

[Rhode]

As Seven came to a halt, Rhode followed suit behind him. Just as he was about to ask why they had stopped, Seven made an awkward groan, a noise that Rhode recognized from his previous occupation. As if to confirm his suspicion, Seven spat blood in front of him, and all at once, his body went limp, falling to the ground at his feet. Rhode sighed, bending at his knees to squat next to the boy, looking over him. "You're very fortunate I decided to give a tinker's damn today, Seven," he whispered. "But I find you strange, and so I will not let you die here." He wiped his hands on his jerkin, and gingerly grabbed Seven's arms with four of his own, as if he were touching something dirty.

"You're light," he said aloud, holding the Symenestran's body upright in front of him, his feet dangling in the air. Seven's head lolled, unconscious, a spattering of blood on his lips. "It's a wonder you're not dead yet," he continued, as if the person he was talking too was still conscious. Rhode carefully shifted his grip, moving his middle arms to Seven's waist, and hoisted his limp body over his shoulder like a sack of feed, and took a quick look around, trying to get his bearings. He had spent most of his day yesterday being lost in the fortress city, and while his memory of how to reach most of the places he had found himself in was sketchy at best, there was one place in particular that he had made an effort to remember: the bath house. There are healers at the Soothing Waters, he recalled to himself silently. North side of the Citadel, that's right. And if anyone asks about you, Seven, he thought, running his story through his head while he approached the Citadel with the young Symenestran draped over his shoulder. I'll just tell them I hit you in the face for something. Rhode smiled at his genius lie. Who would doubt such a story?

[Seven Xu]

I find you strange... It's a wonder you're not dead yet... Rhode's voice resounded in the half-blood's head and he groaned again.
Seven's eyes fluttered open as he drifted out of his lucid state of unconsciousness on their way to Soothing Waters. His mind couldn't make heads or tails of his situation in this state, that is, being held upside-down by a six-armed stranger as he carried him like a limp sack of grain over his shoulder. Any level-headed individual may demand to be put down so that they could walk on their own feet, but Seven's swirling head and throbbing side praised the stranger for his compassion. The deliberate, long strides the man took made for a smooth ride and Seven nearly allowed himself to slip back into his trance but the smell of mineral-rich water and soap brought his eyes open again.

Soothing Waters had quickly become Seven's favorite destination in Syliras. If only he could afford regular private baths. When he got a steady job, perhaps he could. For now, Seven weighed cleanliness and a bit of embarrassment over being a disgusting introvert. And with that thought, Seven's weakened djed got the best of him and he succumbed to the black unconsciousness again.

Seven awoke an hour after a healer had treated him and allowed the Eypharian to carry the half-blood to a private pool when the man admitted to having no idea where the youth lived.
The room was serene. Behind closed doors, the private bath swirled with reflections of calm water along smooth stone walls walls and it might as well have been a continent away from the chaos that was the Warehouse District. A tiered circular pool took up the majority of the room, steaming hot water light-blue and opaque with minerals and various bath salts. A pair of white cotton towels were folded neatly at the water's edge along with perfumed soap. Of course, he had been disrobed by the healer as clothing was not allowed anywhere in the bathing area, public or private. A soft white towel covered what would otherwise be embarrassing in the presence of another, wrapped tight around his waist. Oh, how he would love to slip under that warm, wet surface and melt away.

Seven leaned forward and crept to the pool, removing the soft towel and slipping down into the swirling cerulean spring. A crystal-clear reflection stared back at him. His face had been cleaned. Besides a light purple ring under his left eye, he looked as if he had never been punched. Seven's pale fingers traced the crescent bruise in dismay. So unbecoming. And how much did this room and medical treatment set me back? A presence in the room jarred Seven's memory and he tore his eyes away from the welcoming water to the graceful Eypharian figure who had remained with the youth while he was unconscious. The extra arms that looked natural on the man's lithe body were no longer surprising.

"I cannot thank you enough ... I am sorry, I do not believe I caught your name." Seven's smile was genuine. There was something charming about the Eypharian. Something that warmed Seven from the inside, despite the mild look of arrogance he attracted from the man. "How long have I been out?"

[Rhode]

Such a strange creature, Rhode thought to himself, relaxing in the bath he had paid for. The public baths would have been fine for him alone, as he had no doubt that just by being in the public bath, people of the other races would instinctively keep some distance between themselves and an Eypharian, but bringing an unconscious Symenestran to the public pool would be awkward, at best. Half Symenestran, he corrected himself. The healer pointed out the length of his arms and legs, and the mix of nails on his hands, that distinguished him from true Symenestrans, though it hardly made a difference to Rhode. It's not his race that makes him interesting, anyways.

Rhode snapped to alertness at the sound of someone else entering the pool, his eyes shooting a glare at the noise. His stare relaxed when he saw a conscious and healthy Seven, touching his black eye gingerly while looking at his reflection in the water. Moments later, they met each other's eyes, and Seven spoke. "I cannot thank you enough...I am sorry, I do not believe I caught your name," he said happily. He closed his eyes at the sight of Seven's smile, and let himself relax in the hot bath once again. Moments later, he heard the boy ask how long he had been unconscious. "Couldn't have been more than an hour," he replied. "You may call me 'Rhode'." He slowly opened his eyes, looking at the opposite end of the bath, purposely averting his gaze from Seven. He hadn't forgotten the reason why he had gone through all this trouble, and now he had to know. "You never answered my question, Seven," he spoke out, not giving the boy a chance to ask another question of his own. "What brings you to Syliras, of all places?"

Ledger- 2.14 GM: Private Bath, Towels, Soap
- 10.00 GM: Medical Attention, Tip Included

[Seven Xu]

Seven sank into the hot water to his shoulders, exhaling in a blissful sigh. The water hugged his pale skin, swirling around his fingers and toes. It was warmer than the public bath. Smelled better too. The cost of such luxury still loomed in the back of Seven's mind, and he made a note to reimburse the Eypharian for his troubles. He's been here for an hour? "Rhode ..." he repeated with a content smile, happy with the way the word seemed to roll off of his tongue. Seven's gaze was fixed on Rhode, tiny determined pupils swimming in a sea of scarlet examined the man's sharp features wrapped tightly in gilded skin. Such a contradiction to his own rounded jawline and skin so pale he looked ghostly in the realm of steam swirling about the top of the glassy water's surface. Only when he realized that Rhode had asked him a question did he break the stare and bite his lower lip. Wake up, idiot. He's asked you that twice now. That familiar heat in his cheeks forced his eyes from Rhode.

"I came looking for--," Seven's nerve-wrecked voice cracked and he quickly cleared his throat. "My mother. She is supposed to be in this region. I have been here for a while though and I still have not seen another of my kind so it is starting to become hopeless." That seemed to be the only thing anyone ever wanted to talk about with him. Why are you here? And every time he was asked, whatever hope in finding his mother he had managed to build up faded away again. The half-blood's attention drifted back to the Eypharian and he eyed him vehemently.

There was something interesting about Rhode. Something that made Seven want to ask more questions. What may seem standoffish to many just made Seven want to know more about him. When he had bathed in close proximity to others in the public pools, all he wanted to do was get as far from them as he could. With Rhode, he had to keep himself from drifting across the pool to sit closer to him. A hand lifted out of the warm pool and Seven brushed white tresses from his eyes. They fell instantly back into place, now silvery and wet, water gluing the sharp strands together. "Syliras is definitely a more forgiving place than Lhavit was." Seven tilted his head to press the painful bruise on his face again. That seemed like a strange thing to say, considering Rhode had found Seven on the ground, beaten and bloodied. "What about you? Why are you here?"

[Rhode]

Of course, Rhode thought to himself, mulling over Seven's answer to his question. That was the reason why he had found himself so intrigued by Seven's behavior after helping him get away from the crowd; his words may have been kinder, but the way he carried himself, his expressions, everything about Seven was, to Rhode, driven by determination, and the desire to achieve something important to him. That alone cannot be it. Rhode shifted uncomfortably in the water, trying to find the silver lining to this revelation. He had met a number of people who were determined to see their own personal missions through, but they were not anything special to him. There was...something...that made Seven different from the rest, but he couldn't think of what that 'something' was. Maybe that's all there is to it, though.

"What about you? Why are you here?"

Rhode heard the question asked, and nearly started speaking the details of the past few weeks that had driven him to stay in Syliras before he realized that it wasn't a question he had asked himself inside his head, but one that Seven had spoken aloud. He blinked rapidly a few times, clearing his eyes, and then turned to face Seven, his frosty locks practically shimmering. "I found myself unable to continue protecting my last employer," he intoned carefully, choosing his words wisely. "And Syliras was the nearest city on the road." Rhode found himself wondering if that answer would be enough, and after a moment, decided that it probably wouldn't, so instead, he countered with a question of his own, in an effort to keep the spotlight off of him. "You'll find her, if you try hard enough, but what do you plan to do when you find her?"