Midas
Location: Red River | White Drift Municipality | Kingdom of Candor | Central Human Kingdoms
Time: 1003 A.D.
Red River was a small trading town on the very tip of Candor's influence. It sat at the base of a small mountain range that separates the inhospitable Northlands and the soft temperance of the Central Riverlands. The sky seemed to bloom a deeper blue than it had in the winter past, and the clouds seemed altogether less violent in their shape and movements. It was nearly noontime and Lucieon sat near the titular Red River, which was overflowing with the run off from the snowy Northland peaks. The spring wind was amiable against his skin as his eyes watched the seasonal fish ripple through the coursing waters. The river was not small nor large. It was just enough for a merchant ship to use to cross deeper into the heartland of the human lands. It was maybe a kilometer and a half in width, Lucieon wasn't really the best at estimating distances. His eyes were used to the closeness that his textbooks and medical records demanded of him. He shook his head and brushed the fallen petals of a nearby cherry tree off of his cloak. The thick winter wool he wore was terribly out of place in the blooming flowers and rustling leaves of the new spring. However, he didn't have much of a choice. The winds still blew a chill through his summer clothes, and he had almost nothing since his mother had convinced his father to disown him.
He closed his eyes and listened to the running water. It was a strong continuous current. Powerful, but not angry. It lapped against the wooden beams of the dock and made no splash. Lucieon couldn't remember why he was here. He was waiting for someone, but who, or why, was foggy. The days without food and sleep must have had a detrimental affect on his memory. He had made the journey north to Red River by foot from Merizidan's central headquarters in Candor. He had little to eat in the cold winter nights, and he had little rest. And what he could manage was always by the dirt road to the north, perpetually covered with a layer of wet mud. It was a miracle that he didn't come down with pneumonia in the two month journey.
As his mind wandered into those grey memories, a warm softness brushed up against his cheek. It felt like silk, but it was firmer than cloth and definitely supported by something muscular and flexible. Too thin to be an arm. He wondered without opening his eyes, the effort to do so seemed far too much for his current state. Then he decided to forego the thought and get some rest while sitting on the dock in the warm spring sun.
"Oi! Don't tell me you're dead! 'specially after I came all this way to get ya!"
Lucieon opened his eyes and found a girl standing over him. She was wearing a tunic woven with bright reds and blues in the square stripes of Merizidan. Her hair was long and red, and her eyes were quivering in the light like liquid gold. Her skin was smooth and pale, so much so that it cast an eerie light to her figure. The girl was no more than five foot tall, maybe even less, and her canines fell over her lip. Then Lucieon noticed the tail sweep across his face again before falling back behind her legs.
So that's what it was, he thought to himself lazily before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The girl stood over him. Her eyes were narrow and her mouth was locked into a disapproving scowl.
[color=dark gold]"No, I'm not dead,"[/color] Lucieon replied half-heartedly as he tried to stand. His legs refused the action, [color=dark gold]"close to it though."[/color] He looked over the warg girl in front of him. She seemed to take up a lot of space for being such a small creature, [color=dark gold]"are you Azquotal's assistant or something?"[/color]
Suddenly the world around him exploded into light, and a great shooting pain flooded out from his ribs. Lucieon doubled over onto the floor, very much awake now. [color=dark gold]"What the fuck was that for!"[/color] he gasped after regaining some of his breath. It felt like his ribs had cracked. His breaths were labored and stained with pain and his vision was still blurry.
"I am Azquotal Nariqi," the warg replied angrily. Her golden eyes didn't seem so beautiful anymore. Now they seemed to be the same gold as in the eyes of an eagle. A fierce, killing light that mirrored the sun.
Lucieon coughed and straightened himself out, still holding his right ribs with his arm. The dirty cloak fell around him as he stumbled to his feet. [color=dark gold]"They paired me with a beast-kin? How lowly the company must thin-"[/color]
Suddenly he found himself on the ground again, kneeling over and coughing furiously. He couldn't seem to catch his breath and he couldn't understand why. Azquotal knelt down beside him and placed her hand at his throat. Her skin was soft and smooth, but her nails, almost as sharp and long as claws, dug into the fragile skin on his neck.
"And what's so very wrong about my being a Warg? she snarled, placing her foot on Lucieon's back.
"trust me, I'm not very happy about working with some silver-eating Candorian pretty boy."
Through some impeccable means, Lucieon decided that the best course of action was to shut his mouth and listen to what she had to say. Anything else might have ended in his drowning in the coursing Red River below the old wood of the docks. Azquotal pulled Lucieon to his feet by the nape of his neck and looked him over. She was unreasonably strong for her size. That much Lucieon concluded, was completely and utterly true.
She pressed her hands against his chest, running them down toward his ribs and feeling into his body. When her small hands fell into the crack between the bones, he winced. The pain, though no longer the same pulsating type. It was a dull, unspecific pain that was often the result of bruises. Azquotal gave a small huff,
"None of your bones are broken. It's little more than a bit of hurt flesh." She straightened out his muddy tunic and cloak,tightened his belt and fixed his Merizidan badge before turning to leave, her tail flicking out behind her.
Lucieon stood straight, letting out a sigh of relief as the Warg stepped away from him. He was utterly confused on the reception. What right did a lower creature like her have to trample over him? Granted he was a castaway, but his blood was still that of the pure Candorian plutocracy. He wanted to turn and complain to Azquotal, but he couldn't find it in his heart to use the little energy he had left to argue. Especially not with the numbing pain still tender in his breast.
"Well?"
Lucieon turned around to face Azquotal. She was standing with her hands to her hips, her legs perfectly shoulder width. Her tail swept slowly from one side ot the other, and her long red hair flowed gently in the passing breeze. Aside from her Merizidan issue clothing, she wore a deep crimson mantle that draped down to the swell of her breasts and a small woolen scarf around her slender neck. The fact that she was a best-kin, or a Warg, was irrelevant, she was very beautiful. Her posture gave her a strange sense of authority but the gentleness of her figure seemed to soothe the eyes and calm the heart. Lucieon replied, somewhat confused, [color=dark gold]"What?"[/color]
She rolled her eyes and walked back, grabbing Lucieon by the arm,
"We are partners, like it or not. And I doubt that you have a place to stay when you're looking like that." she pulled on him,
"You'll be staying at my place while we work up the money to get you your own. I'll take you shopping for clothes tomorrow, since I doubt that your little ratty luggage bag has anything actually in it." She flashed him a brief smile and a cock of her head as she beckoned for him to follow.
"And call me 'Az' from now on. I don't want to look like I've gotten myself a servant boy."
Lucieon nodded, and swallowed solemnly. When she had reached over to him, he saw down the wrap of her scarf. Her neck was scarred with a ring of geometric tattoos, like a collar. She was a freed slave.
