A/N: Before this chapter starts, I want to make this abundantly clear: Siris is not alright in the head. Some of her backstory will be hinted at soon, and an eventual interlude chapter will give a better look at it. This is not, and has never been, a SI story. Suffice to say: she got trauma, and horrible coping mechanisms. Anyway, enjoy!
The bustling port city of Carata is a far cry from the island, people of all shapes and sizes milling about and hawking their wares. Everything from potions to salted fish litters the wooden stalls and carts, and I find myself drawn to one selling enchanted rings and other small objects.
“Hello madam! Welcome to my humble stall. How may I help you today? Looking to buy a ring that does a thing or sell some looted bounty?”
I chuckle at the short man's rhyme as I begin to draw the various rings and such that I looted from the dungeon. I make sure to keep the fun toys, though.
“The second one, my good sir. I recently cleared a dungeon, and my spatial bag isn't large enough to just horde them sadly.”
He grins up at me from behind a thick beard, fingers combing through it as he inspects the various items I've presented. His eyes glow gold for a moment, and he nods excitedly.
“Why, these are wonderful! The barrier and cleaning ones alone are going to be gone by the end of today, and the others are just as valuable! Tell you what, I'll give ya fifteen gold for the lot of them.”
A quick glance over the prices of the other stalls gave me a rough idea of the currency here, with the usual denominations of 100 per level. Copper was the cheapest, then silver, gold, and something called lumium. Compared to the other trinkets prices, fifteen gold for a few rings was worthwhile. I accept the price, and he passes me a small pouch which quickly vanishes into my bag. Bidding the merchant a quick farewell, I walk off, ignoring the curious looks from passersby directed at my wings and tail. Honestly, I often forget that I have them for the same reason you don't think about picking something up. It's just another limb, no different from an arm or leg. My tail helps with balance and rapid movement, keeping my center of mass closer to my waist rather than my chest, and my wings are much larger than I initially thought they were. During the several days on the island, I discovered that my full wingspan is around ten feet. Despite that normally being the bare minimum to carry something of my size with minimum extra weight, stats and magic help with that little physics issue.
I take my time exploring the town, admiring the riot of colors, sounds, and people. No two buildings are exactly the same, though a commonality between them all is the materials. Stone blocks for walls, with wooden beams as supports and terracotta tiles for roofs. Awnings of colorful fabrics overhang the streets, casting kaleidoscopes of light across the cobblestones. Through windows, I can see even more varieties of wares than the stalls contain, from fresh bread tended to by a kobold all the way to gleaming weapons forged from a blueish metal.
A soft, feather touch on my hip draws my attention downwards, and I lock eyes with the short feline beastkin with her hand buried in my spatial pouch. We both freeze, just staring at each other. Her shocked that I actually caught her, and myself shocked that someone had the audacity to try and rob me in broad daylight on a street with nobody within ten feet. The standoff only lasts a moment before her silhouette shifts into smoky darkness and she melts into the shadows beneath my feet. Unfortunately for my new feline friend, the shadows aren't the safe space she expects as a small pulse of mana flows into Nesuskape. A yowling cat girl is held by the collar of her gray wool cloak, my shade slowly rising up and pulling the kitty along with. Leaning down a little to get to her eye level, I smile evilly.
“Now, what do we have here? A little kitty, trying to get into my bag? Neat little trick with the shadow-walking there, but next time maybe pay a bit more attention to who you're robbing, hmm?”
I chuckle, watching as her ears flatten to her skull and her slitted eyes search for an escape. Unfortunately for her, there will be no leaving until I've had a talk with her.
“If you could direct me to the nearest tavern, we can talk there and you can explain why you tried to rob me over a drink.”
She seems startled at that, one dark-furred ear tilted in the cutest way as confusion gets the better of her. Hesitantly, she points to a large building on a nearby street corner with the classic tankard on a hanging sign. The bright blue words beneath proclaim it as the ‘Tilted Tankard’. I stride up to the swinging doors, holding them open as my shade walks past and into the tavern, still carrying the beastkin. Looking around at the bystanders watching this entire thing play out, I give them a cheery wave before stepping into the dim interior.
Everyone seems to be avoiding my blue-eyed shadow, which has sat down at a corner table and still has the thief by the scruff of her neck. Joining them at the table, I dismiss my shade and flag down one of the servers weaving through the afternoon crowd. The nervous teen steps over, twitching as she holds up a slate board.
“Y-Yes, ma'am? What c-can I get you today?”
“I'll have a pint of ale, and she'll have…”
I give my unwilling guest a questioning look, and she whispers a response that even I can barely hear.
“Just… some milk… please.”
I relay the order, and the waiter nods, giving us a shaky smile before rushing off through another swinging door leading further into the building. I finally turn to the beastkin beside me, getting my first proper look at her. Soft gray fur streaked with black covers her entire body, her features more animal than person. Narrowed eyes similar to my own, with vertical slits for pupils and golden irises. A short muzzle, reminiscent of a housecat, and a pair of short triangular ears atop her head that poke through small slits in the hood. Her ears are currently flat against her skull, her pupils dilated in that way cats do when distressed. Sighing, I lean back in the chair and fold my wings up enough so that they rest above the back. Fresh chapters posted on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⁂𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱
“Relax, girl. I have no plans on hurting you, nor do I really care that you tried to steal from me. What I do care about, however, is how you ended up thieving in the first place. So, do you want to start from the beginning with names, or just why you tried to rob me? Name's Siris, by the way.”
She hesitates for several seconds, and the server returns to drop a tankard before each of us before scurrying away. Taking a deep draw of the frothy amber liquid, I grimace at the slightly bitter taste and watered down flavor.
Bleh. Why is it that every fantasy protagonist likes ale so much? Unless this is just bad ale?
The only positive was the warm buzz of alcohol that spreads through me, so I shrug and down the rest of the shitty beer imitation. The girl barely sips at her milk, but it seems to calm her down at the very least. Her ears perk up slightly, and she takes a deep breath before finally answering my question.
“My… name is Keria. Why I… tried to rob you… it's complicated.”
I shrug, ordering a tankard of mead this time.
“Well, I have all the time needed to listen. And more than enough coin to keep the liquor flowing.”
Keira smiles slightly before catching herself. With another deep breath, she launches into her story.