Revessa was hot and bright and strange.
That was Cade's main takeaway after a week or two in the capitol. Every single day lasted forever. The air shimmered with heat in the sunlight.
Humidity rendered modesty impractical. Breathable fabrics like linen only did so much when the sweat wouldn't wick off your skin. Cade's more libertine choice of dress was unusual back home, but here, when she walked through the streets in her tied skirts and off-shoulder blouses, she blended into the crowd.
In the middle of the day, when the sun heated the stone pathways to scorching, everyone had the sense to scurry indoors during the early afternoon heatwave. Cade, accustomed to being shooed out of the house all day to do chores, laid awake most afternoons in a state of wide-eyed restlessness while the city napped. She was getting used to it. Slowly.
Talking to the locals also provided Cade with a bizarre mystery. The year before had seen some unusually bad weather, the kind that destroyed a lot of people's homes. Around the same time the storms broke out, two dragon clans in the Maelstrom islands had been fighting. Cade picked up from conversation that, for some reason, these two things were related. She had no idea how a dragon war would influence the weather, but everyone talked about it as if it was common knowledge, so she just let it go.
Revessa wasn't all bad, though. When the sun went down, the city came alive. And Cade witnessed sights she had only ever dreamed of.
Her whole life, merchants passing through town brought tales of the cities' feats of artifice. Using artifacts and crystals harvested from the ruins of the Ancients, Revessa's streets and buildings could be lit without the heat of fire. Evenings in Revessa were always alive with music and dancing, and the city's vibrant energy lured her out into the streets.
Cade spent more than a few nights in someone else's bed.
So, of course, it was the morning after one of these evenings that the guildmaster gave her a job. Still wearing the previous night's clothing, Cade made her way back to the Adventurer's Guild with her shoes in one hand and a nasty headache. Fog settled in the streets and canals, yet to be dismissed by the rising sun. The city was beginning to stir awake.
Seesa — the gnome that usually tended to the front desk — wasn't in yet. Guildmaster Andrada was.
Andrada was dark-skinned, with a clean-shaven face and cropped hair that cut a clean line across his forehead. His clothing was always tailored and pressed flat, and he dressed in a variety of striking colors, patterns, and fabrics. He kept a pair of spectacles in his shirt pocket that he only used for reading. That morning, he was looking down at paperwork in a file when Cade made it back.
"Good morning, Cade," he greeted. "Did you have a good evening?"
"Mornin', sir. Think I had a little too much fun this time."
Andrada smiled and chuckled to himself. "Go ahead and take some time to clean up. I have a job for you to do."
"What is it this time? Walking someone's dog?" Cade quipped wryly.
"Don't give me that. We'll talk when you've refreshed yourself."
Due to Cade's lack of familiarity with "urban environments," as he called them, Andrada opted to give her a growing list of odd jobs. Over the past couple weeks, Cade tracked down a stolen package, took care of a tavern's rat problem, and even helped a local bookshop unpack and organize their latest shipment.
After she had washed up and showered, Cade found herself staring across Andrada's desk, bewildered. "You want me to do what?"
Andrada wiped the lenses of his reading glasses with the hem of his shirt. "I understand this is outside an adventurer's usual scope, but this is a favor I'm doing for an old friend."
"The university doesn't have student workers that can do this instead?"
He leaned on one elbow, cradling his face with his thumb and forefinger, and raised his eyebrows at her.
"Why? Would you rather they get paid than you?" He asked.
She sat back and frowned.
Andrada reassured her, "It shouldn't take long. You will be indoors in the shade for most of it. You don't even have to fight anything."
"No rats?" Cade asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"No rats," he said.
On the first day of Mirror, Revessa would begin its week-long celebration of music, theater, and poetry — the annual Festival of Melody. The local university held a gala the first night of the festival to celebrate their bardic arts students. Apparently, the faculty in charge of the gala were busy tending to other matters, so they needed someone to tally the confirmed guests and communicate with the caterer.
That responsibility had, somehow, fallen to Cade.
The university was a sprawling campus of colorful old architecture. Salt on the wind weathered the paint on its arched windows. Cade had to ask for directions a few times before she found her way to the university's ballroom. When she found it, the ornate space crawled with exhausted workers pinning decor to the walls.
Cade introduced herself to Andrada's friend, a frazzled moon elf with short blue-black hair. Her name was only halfway out of her mouth before the elf shoved a stack of ticket receipts, a pen, and a sheet of paper into her hands. All of Cade's questions died on her tongue as quickly as they came; the elf rambled off a list of instructions, then quickly sped away to tend to some other emergency.
Cade shrugged and sat down, beginning the grueling task of tallying receipt slips. She didn't take long to lapse into the steady, bearable rhythm of busy work.
It was late morning when she finished, and Cade, not sure what to call her point of contact, settled for, "Ma'am?"
The moon elf didn't turn around from where she was arranging and rearranging a test plate setting. "Yes?"
"I'm done counting. You need me just to head on over to the caterer?"
"Please."
Cade knew a dismissal when she heard one. She headed back to the outside world, list folded in her bag.
The air was hot and sticky as usual. Cade shielded her eyes to protect them from the white-hot sun. People bustled to and fro in the streets, and boats glided through the canals below. After a few weeks of running errands, Cade was beginning to refine her vague mental map of the city. Finding the caterer was a simple task.
Her journey across the city was cut short by a piercing scream.
Several bystanders jumped, startled. Cade froze. Her head swiveled from side to side. Nearby, a small, pink-haired gnome hung onto her coin-purse for dear life while a pickpocket tugged at it from the other end.
"Hey!" Running on instinct, Cade sprinted towards them.
The moment the thief saw her barrelling in his direction, he shoved the gnome, yanked the purse from her hands, and fled. Cade hesitated to pursue him. Behind her, the gnome hissed in pain where she'd fallen to the ground, gripping her ankle.
"I've got her." One of the bystanders, a human man, slipped out of the crowd and kneeled beside the injured gnome. "Go."
Cade turned and ran. The sound of jingling coins tipped her off to the thief's location. She followed the noise down a series of maze-like backalleys and footpaths. The thief may have been swift on his feet, but Cade was built to hunt humans. He ran out of breath before she'd even lost momentum.
Cornering him in a dead-end alley, Cade stopped just short of a beam of light, letting it glint off her eyes. She grinned wider than usual. The thief, some young and opportunistic teenager, shrank back with wide eyes.
He threw the coin-purse at her feet and swallowed. "I-I'm sorry. Please don't—"
"If I catch you again…" she purred.
He whimpered and screwed his eyes shut, anticipating a blow that never came. When he opened them again, both Cade and the coin-purse were gone.
By the time Cade came strolling back to the scene of the crime, the gnome was standing on one leg and steadying herself against the human stranger. The bubblegum-pink bun atop her head, once a perfect sphere, had come half-undone, and dirt smeared her face. She noticed Cade, and her round face and wide eyes flooded with relief.
"Bless you," she said, taking the purse back in her hands.
Cade glanced down at her ankle and grimaced. A thick layer of swelling wrapped around the injury. "Looks like you took a nasty fall there."
The gnome wrinkled her button nose in distaste. "Just my luck, right before the festival and all."
"I'm a healer," the human interjected. He looked to Cade. "I don't have any of my tools with me, but if you help me, we can get her to my boarding house."
Without the excitement of pursuit distracting her, Cade took a long look at him. His warm chestnut-brown hair fell around his face in soft waves except where he bound it in a short ponytail. His skin had an even-toned olive complexion, and dark lashes rimmed his emerald-green eyes. He had a pretty, narrow face and a sloped nose.
He'd set a tote full of fresh vegetables from the market on the ground so he could use both arms to steady the gnome. He didn't seem particularly strong.
After sizing him up, Cade nodded.
"All right, hun," she said to the gnome, "I'm gonna have to pick you up. That okay?"
She swallowed and nodded. "Y-yeah."
Cade slipped her arms around the gnome's shoulders and behind her knees, then heaved her off the ground. The fabric of her clothes flexed stiffly under Cade's grasp. For the first time, she realized the gnome was wearing some kind of grease-stained uniform. Putting it from her mind, Cade motioned for the human to lead the way.
—
Boarding houses were, by Cade's estimation, something between an inn and a permanent home. The healer's boarding house was a large building full of rooms furnished for longer, but still temporary, stays. The exterior balconies had been strung with lines of drying laundry. Once inside, the healer led them up a flight of stairs and down a hallway of identical doors.
The "rooms" themselves were more like suites, containing a living room with a separate bedroom and washroom. The healer retreated to the washroom while Cade settled the gnome on the bed. She heard the creak of a knob turning beside the basin, then jumped when the walls hissed.
"You okay?" The gnome looked up at her with wide, concerned eyes.
Cade laughed at herself. "I'm not from around here. The pipes are still new to me."
"All right," the healer began, flicking water from his hands as he came back into the room, "what should I call you?"
The gnome adjusted herself to face him, then sucked air through her teeth when she brushed her ankle against the mattress. "R-Rosie."
"Okay, Rosie, let's see what we're working with here."
Cade withdrew into the living area to give them some privacy. The strange quiet of being unaccompanied in someone else's home always unnerved her. She recognized the liminal state of the room: half-unpacked luggage trunks, bare walls, and belongings waiting to be sorted into their proper places. Either the healer had also recently moved to the city, or he was terribly disorganized.
A few trinkets and handwritten notes littered the coffee table between a settee and pair of armchairs. Cade leaned closer, curious. A few rudimentary bead bracelets, the kind crafted by an impatient child, were stacked together. The notes were creased as if they had been folded, and in scratchy, large handwriting, boasted messages such as "I love you, Papa!" and "Be happy!" The latter was accompanied by a lop-sided smiley face.
Cade pressed down on the corner of a rolled sheet of paper to unfurl it — a drawing. While the figures in the sketch were rough stick figures, she could make out two adults holding hands with two little girls.
"Excuse me."
Cade jumped. The healer stood in the doorway, hands clasped at his lap.
"Oh, no, excuse me. I was being nosy," she said, waving her hand. "Cute girls you got here. Do you travel a lot for work, or—?"
An odd look crossed his face, and he hesitated. Sheepish, he said, "To be honest, I'm still figuring that out myself. My wife asked me to leave a few months ago."
Cade's face flooded with heat. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry, man. I, uh—" She gestured towards the bedroom, desperate for an out. "How's she doing?"
He shifted aside so Cade could peek into the room. Rosie waved. Her leg was propped up on several pillows.
"It was sprained, not broken," he explained. "Nothing a quick healing spell couldn't fix. But the inflammation takes some time to go away, so she'll be here a little longer."
Rosie sighed, "I was so scared for a moment there. I'm on leave for the festival and didn't want to spend it on crutches. Or broke."
"What do you do?" Cade asked.
"Mage-pilot," she said, gesturing to her uniform. "My airship's at the dock."
"So, if I need to get somewhere," Cade raised one mischievous eyebrow, "you could give me a ride now, right?"
Rosie gave a bashful laugh. "I don't think my guild would really approve—"
"Fuck, the guild!" Clapping a hand over her mouth, Cade looked between Rosie and the healer. "I was in the middle of doing a job. I gotta go."
Halfway out the door, she heaved her bag back over one shoulder and held out a hand in lieu of a good-bye wave. "Nice meeting you, glad you're feeling better, good-bye, sorry—"
"Hey, wait, what's your n—"
But Cade's feet stomped down the staircase and out into the streets.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of humiliation. Cade didn't get to the caterer before everyone had closed up shop for their long, leisurely lunch break. Andrada had, thankfully, retired to his personal quarters, so he couldn't catch her retreating to her dorm with her tail between her legs.
As usual, sleep evaded Cade. Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered putting her foot in her mouth in the healer's room and felt a hot pang in her gut. The moment businesses began to reopen, she was out of her room and back in the streets.
Delivering the list to the caterer was easy enough, but the moon elf in charge of the gala was less than pleased. Cade made up some excuse about getting lost due to being new in town and finding the caterer after they had already closed for lunch. Her client accepted this with only a brief lecture about the importance of their instution. Either way, she paid, and Cade was more than happy to leave the day's events behind her.
Returning to the guild exhausted, Cade turned in for the evening and fell asleep before the sun had even finished setting.
She overslept the next morning as well. The sound of someone knocking on her dorm door startled Cade from her sleep. She stumbled out of bed and cracked open the door, leaving the deadbolt chained.
No one was there. Then, a small voice cleared their throat. Cade looked down and saw Seesa, the gnome in charge of the front desk, with her hands on her hips.
"Morning, Seesa," she mumbled.
"Cade, I don't care what you do in your free time, but your little trysts cannot be coming around the guild looking for you," she chided.
Cade squinted. The words rolled around in her head like marbles. "What?"
"There is a man asking for 'the red-haired woman who speaks without thinking' at the front desk. Pretty sure that's you."
"Ugh." She rubbed her hand over her eyes. "Okay, give me a moment to look presentable. I'll take care of it."
As she walked away, Seesa called over her shoulder, "I sent him to wait outside. Keep your business out of the guild."
For the second day in a row, Cade hurried through her hygiene routine, a change of clothes, and taming her hair. She pulled on her second boot as she stumbled out the door. Raking her fingers back to control a few errant flyaways, Cade stopped short at the front of the guild when she laid eyes on her visitor.
The healer waited for her, a messenger bag thrown over his shoulder. He waved when she saw him.
"Oh," she said simply, then, "How did you find me?"
He shrugged, wearing a good-natured smile on his face. "Lucky guess? You mentioned having to finish a job for a guild, and the way you ran after that thief, I just assumed."
Unclasping the top of his bag, he began to rustle around inside it.
The fog of sleep cleared away, and Cade scowled. "Hey, I'll have you know I think plenty before I speak. I just have a lot of bad ideas."
The healer produced a small box and a handwritten note from his bag. He held them out to her without responding to Cade's indignation. She stared at the gift and hesitated.
"It's not from me," he said. "Rosie wanted me to give it to you."
The brief note, written in tidy cursive, thanked her for her help. Cade tugged at the end of the ribbon to pull it loose, then lifted the top off the box. Nestled inside was one voucher for a free air ferry ticket. Cade grinned.
"Er, thanks for tracking me down just to pass this along," she said. "I'm Cade. I guess I didn't say that yesterday."
"You didn't." He smiled. "I'm Ira."
Replacing the lid over the voucher, Cade bit her lip and took a deep breath. After a moment of thought, she told him, "I'm sorry about sticking my nose in your business. If it makes you feel any better, my husband left me about a year ago, too."
Ira's eyes lit up with surprise.
She continued, "It was mutual, and we're still on good terms, but it still— I know it stings."
He considered her, then replied, warmly, "I appreciate the sentiment."
They wavered awkwardly in front of the guild. Cade threw a searching glance around the busy walkways and noticed the lights strung overhead for the upcoming festivities.
"I just got to the city a couple weeks ago myself, so I don't have anyone to go to the festival with," Cade said. "Would you— I mean, I'm not trying to flirt with you—"
"Sure."
"What?"
"It sounds nice, enjoying the festival with someone who understands," he said, adjusting the strap of his bag. "How does that first night sound? Meet me at the boarding house at sundown?"
"Okay, great." Cade sighed, a sound somewhere between relief and disbelief. "I'll see you then."
Nodding, Ira offered a farewell greeting and waved. She watched him walk away, then disappear back into the crowd. Cade blinked a few times. She shook her head.
"I'd love to have just one normal day," she muttered to herself. "Just one."
—
All around them, the streets of Revessa were alive with light and music. Street musicians and theater troupes packed the walkways with their cups full of coin. Masked acrobats displayed feats of balance and athleticism. Street food vendors filled the air with savory scents, and kids looking to make a quick copper sold homemade masks on every corner.
Cade found Ira easier to talk to without the embarrassment of her social faux pas looming over her. Many of the same performers captured their attention, and even when they didn't agree, he knew how to argue playfully. A young dancer swayed to her band's music, and Cade pushed a protesting Ira into her arms. Later, when an actor broke the fourth wall and began to tease them, they ran laughing from the audience even as he shouted after them.
They made their way to the market stalls, where a variety of crafters and merchants displayed their wares for the crowd. Cade pored over the offerings with intent.
"Looking for something in particular?" Ira asked.
"It's the solstice back home. I still want to buy gifts for my family."
In the end, Cade found a musical jewelry box and a model airship for Madley and Hark, respectively.
"Not the tambourine for your brother?" Ira asked, a note of wry amusement in his voice.
"I really thought about it, but Ma would kill me." She held up a framed map of Revessa. "Speaking of, she went to school here in her younger years. You think she'd like this?"
"Sounds lovely."
They stumbled across a stall full of used books later, and Cade babbled about Bex reading her adventure stories until she fell asleep at night. The two of them managed to find something Bex didn't already have on his shelf. Cade beamed with accomplishment as she tucked her last gift away in her tote bag.
"I'm not tired yet, but this crowd is getting a little overwhelming," she complained.
Wordlessly, Ira flipped open the top flap of his bag. He tilted his head to gesture downwards; Cade glimpsed the bottle of liquor tucked in his bag. She threw her head back and laughed.
Within the hour, the two of them found an unattended staircase and snuck to the empty rooftop above. The warm breeze coming off the sea that evening ruffled Cade's hair, and she could hear the tides lapping against the building foundations below. The cacophony of the streets seemed muted up here. Cade sat on the edge of the rooftop and allowed her legs to dangle high above the revelers.
Ira slid onto the solid stone beside her and uncorked the bottle. He held it out to her, and she took a deep swig. The dark liquid burned as it went down.
Cade laughed between coughs and sputters. "What the hell is that?"
"Shieldlands moon elf whiskey," he said, then took a drink himself.
"No shit? Warn a girl next time."
Below, people clapped in time as two dancers spun together. A pack of roving university students laughed and shouted, spilling the drinks in their hands.
"Back when I worked in Argenfaen," Ira began, "the wizards had all sorts of weird tastes and vices. You get your hands on a lot of interesting liquor."
Cade leaned back on her hands and shot him a knowing grin. "Just liquor?"
He chuckled. "Definitely not just liquor."
"What did you do in Argenfaen?"
"Medic." He cast a distant look over the glowing city. "The archaeologists needed at least one person who could patch them up if something went wrong, so I tagged along for digs."
He passed the bottle back to Cade.
"I think that's interesting. I mean it," she told him. "This is my first time ever away from home."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I…" She took another drink. "Wynnic and I were always together since we were kids. I guess I just thought things were always going to be…"
"Normal?" Ira eyed her as he took the bottle back.
"So, you feel it too?" Cade asked.
He took a deep breath and sighed it out. The breeze picked up. A kid cried out as their thin paper mask blew into the canal below.
"Normal was what I needed for awhile," Ira said at last, "but not forever, I guess."
"It starts to feel like a cage," she agreed.
"And then you start to wonder what the fuck is wrong with you."
"Yes!"
They laughed, a sound that started small and grew louder. Their mirth lasted longer than they expected it to. Maybe it was the whiskey.
"Maybe something is wrong with us," Cade said. She gestured to herself. "There has to be a reason we're like this, right? A reason why we can't stay?"
Ira regarded her quietly.
She said, "Is it arrogant of me to suspect we have some greater purpose?"
"I wouldn't say 'greater,'" he replied. "Necessary, maybe. We do what we do so other people can live normal lives."
"So what does that get us? Do we get to be happy?"
Ira barked one, bitter laugh, then took a deep drink from the bottle.
"Forgive me," he said, throat raw from the liquor. "As you can imagine, my perception of reality has been skewed by recent personal events."
Cade raised her eyebrows. "Oh, dear, are you putting me in charge of being the optimist? Okay. Hm. How about…"
She mulled over her thoughts for a second. A chorus of drunken voices sang a sea shanty out of key somewhere below.
"Maybe I have to make up my own kind of happiness," Cade said, with the halting stop-start of someone improvising on the fly, "since I don't enjoy the milestones everybody else said would make me happy."
"That's probably a better way to look at it," Ira replied, "as opposed to, well, whatever I have going on."
Cade laughed and took another drink.
After a moment's thought, Ira said, "You said this is your first time away from home?"
"Yeah."
"Be careful."
Cade gave him a look. "Obviously."
"No. I mean it." He shook his head. "While I was in Argenfaen, I was a fool, and I thought running away from that life and settling down would save me. It didn't. Being back out in the world is—"
He paused, grasping for the right words.
"It's scary. You can't be naive, doing this. I will be smarter this time."
She looked at him. Ira's face was taut and serious. She got the feeling he was talking more to himself than to her.
"You are smarter, now," Cade said. "Wisdom of experience."
He scoffed a self-conscious laugh. "Sure, I'll drink to that. Cheers."
"I do have one question for you, though."
After they passed the bottle between them, Ira looked to her and waited.
"How the hell," Cade began, pausing for dramatic effect, "are the dragons controlling the weather?"
Ira threw his head back and wheezed.
She pointed an accusatory finger. "You said you wouldn't laugh, asshole!"
"I'm sorry, it's not— I wasn't expecting that!"
Crossing her arms and feigning anger, Cade waited for Ira to stop trembling with barely-contained laughter. He took a deep breath, sniffed, and let out one last, gentle giggle before settling down.
"Okay, so, do you know about the storm elemental?" he asked.
Cade's eyes grew huge. She leaned in, eyebrows sky-high. "The what?"
"This whole region used to be uninhabitable because a huge storm elemental lived here and was, you know, destroying everything all the time," Ira explained, gesturing broadly towards the coast. "The first dragons used their power to seal it away and contain it. But they have to redo the ritual every once in awhile or else the seal weakens."
"And they missed their deadline last year?"
"Yeah, well, some of them were a little distracted."
"Wait." Cade considered what he had just told her. "Are you telling me the storms in the Maelstrom are magic?"
"Yes," Ira replied, matter-of-fact. "The elemental makes them."
She paused and stared at him for a long time.
A grin lit up her face. "Are you fucking with me?"
"I'm not!" Ira's voice pitched up in defense.
"You're totally fucking with me—"
Their laughter rang out over the city streets. They drank their fill of whiskey, and soon, the wind began to blow a little cooler than was comfortable. Stumbling herself, Cade helped Ira pick his way down the stairs in the dark. The crowd thinned this time of night, and the two of them tripped over fallen party favors and lurched, laughing, down Revessa's pathways.
Despite Cade's repeated insistence that she could hold her own, Ira refused to let her walk back to the guild dorms by herself. She gave him a wobbly farewell hug and, after he turned to leave, crawled into her bed. In the silence, her ears rang and the world tilted around her, but she buzzed with a kind of joy she hadn't felt in weeks.