II. A Lack of the Familiar
Y'kàndrà, fighting a haze from his first proper sleep in many days, forced his feet on to the gates of Shevezz. Having been effectively bribed into fighting Senzàn Fai's war, but left with only a bitter after-taste, he had wanted nothing more than to be alone. Now that wish had been granted, he faced an unknown people and felt isolated and vulnerable.
He had almost made straight for the renowned multicultural centre of Béjaiber'ghas. While he would have been able to connect with people more readily, he needed more than social connections.
"For now, at least," he mused, "while the heat here indicates a high Fire elemental density, I know nothing about Light and Wind. And, if you need to know something, find the people or places that have the knowledge you seek."
Which is why he now stood outside of Shevezz City.
The Queendom of Shevezz was not completely unknown to him, nor to any nation in this area of Savàni for that matter. Its territory was mostly contained by black stone walls, save for a portion of the southern border where the crags that included the towering Rykorinaz peak formed a natural barrier stronger than any manually-constructed wall. While technically a monarchy, rule was not inherited nor a right, not even by the reigning Matriarch. Instead, the Queen was selected over a period of time from possible runners from all backgrounds. During this time, the excitingly-entitled Administrative Council, those who managed various practical aspects of life in the city-state, took control and kept the nation steady while the people selected their leader. Every ten Ana - or "years" as they were known here, the people decided whether or not to reaffirm their commitment to the Queen.
What he had never learned was their stance on magecraft, so he decided to hide his capabilities until he had some answers.
"Being this drained means I am 'capable' of little anyway. For once, that should be to my advantage. Maybe. Ugh, I hate not knowing enough."
Y'kàndrà looked at the open gate in the morning sun, and his knowledge of them suddenly seemed irrelevant. He stopped and stared blankly at the stone archway that stood between him and the city centre. The Shevezzi were very particular about documenting visitors and the reason for their arrival. The entrance clerks unnerved him more than the prospect of meeting the Queen Herself.
"Not that she would ever need or desire to meet me," he frowned, "and that feeling, dear lost mage, is mutual."
He nearly turned back to his makeshift tree-shelter, when a cheery, boisterous voice boomed behind him.
"Coming through, stranger! Apples to deliver!" the man attached to said voice explained, as an exhausted donkey pulling a heavily-laden cart was guided towards the gate.
"At least you know your reason," Y'kàndrà grimaced, stepping to one side, "getting some information on the local area and where a public library is seems a weak effort to me."
The trader laughed.
"Suspicious visitors never ask for the library! You'll be fine!"
"It can't be that simple," the mage shook his head.
"Trust but Observe is the Shevezzi way, stranger. Welcome to the nearest scientific nation on this side of Bluelight!"
Y'kàndrà blinked a few times before nodding.
"Trust, but observe. Thank you."
"No worries. Well, I have apples to deliver, bakers to visit."
"Two activities, or one?" Y'kàndrà asked, with a slight smirk, to which the trader grinned.
"You will fit in fine here, stranger," he laughed.
Y'kàndrà waved before narrowly avoiding being hit by a sample of the trader's wares, reacting quickly enough to catch it instead.
"But I have literally no coin," he protested.
"...and look famished, with literally no energy to start the day. It gets hot before midday. Keep your energy up and stay hydrated by whatever considerate way you can. Good day, don't stay a stranger, stranger!"
With that, the trader passed through the gates and into the city. Y'kàndrà did not know whether to eat the apple or sell it. It had a silky, smooth skin that appeared golden yet green at the same time. Its scent was sweeter than the Coricane plant from his now-distant homeland.
"Not that I belong there anymore," he muttered, "or anywhere."
A gentle breeze lifted him from his thoughts, and wafted the golden apple's smell in his face, and he wondered how long he had gone without food. But having verbalised his monetary issues, he knew he could sell the apple to another traveller.
"Coin is of no use to the dead, and without food and drawing on Nature, death will arrive before wisdom," Y'kàndrà recounted his own lessons with a sigh, "it's much easier to impart knowledge, than to live it."
As the cool juice of the first bite soothed his throat, the Mage understood how the trader made his living. Perfect to awaken the senses, sweet but not sickly and, in these southern climes one piece of the fruit would be, he knew, as rehydrating as two flagons of spring water. He did not doubt there were healing and alchemical applications too. Y'kàndrà thanked the Elements, and wished his affinity with Ousii were stronger.
"Don't get distracted before you've even started," he berated himself, "it is because you lack in certain Elements that you need to find the familiar."
Wiping his mouth with his dirty sleeve, he pocketed the seeds remaining from the fruit, and felt much refreshed. The mage lifted his eyes to the gates and moved to the registration kiosk.
"'Trust, but Observe'. I can live with that. I own nothing, so cannot have anything to hide!" he chuckled.
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