66 Ashan 719
Sunlight trapped by thick cloud cover, the Quacian sky shone ashen white. Atop a flat pillar, Zarik sat at the edge of a battlement that lined the perimeter of Fortress. He stared at the cityscape and admired the peaked roofs, the dour stone, the skyways that cut across the alleys, and the brick-laden Gleam storefronts. The Biqaj had easily climbed to the high vantage point, so easily that he felt a tad disappointed about how little of a challenge it had been.
Bundled in tight black attire, he pulled at his scarf, so the coarse cotton fabric covered his mouth. No matter how much dark clothing he wrapped himself in, however, it did nothing to mute the floating halo above his head or the gossamer wings folded against his back. It’d been a bizarre morning: for a man had walked out of his dreams and into reality, something he didn’t know possible until now. Was it unique to the man known as Kiwi, or could he learn to do the same? Lucretia had theorized about the matter before he’d left to get some fresh air.
He contemplated the vague offer made. Partnership… but not only with the Quacian dreamwalker but with his associate as well. But for what? The entire thing was cryptic, opaque, and yet… fascinating. Zarik had enjoyed the unexpected visit, the odd company of Kiwi. Though he didn’t know what the questions pertained to, he’d enjoyed answering them anyway. It was a pleasant distraction to his mind that had been catching on other, less fascinating subjects.
Zarik thought of the touch they’d shared. His hand had felt the wrist and it had felt as real as any wrist would be. Nothing about Kiwi suggested he was a spirit despite having seemingly traveled from Emea. He leaned, set his hands against the pillar’s surface behind him, and stared at the sky instead. The cloud cover nearly blinded him. He sighed lowly, closed his eyes, and felt a gentle breeze caress over the small parts of his skin that remained exposed. For the first time in the last few trials, he didn’t feel sick or feverish.
And, as if he’d been there the entire time, Kiwi’s calm, lilt-less voice broke the peaceful silence from somewhere behind him. “Is it still today, lord?”
“Of course,” answered the Biqaj without much thought about it otherwise. He took another small breath. His dark brows furrowed, then he opened his eyes and looked around to try and place whether the voice had actually come from reality or not.
“And you seem to be alone. Good.” From above?
Zarik followed the reply with his eyes, spying Kiwi’s statuesque, blank expression staring down at him, face light brightly by the sun’s diffused light.
“My associate…” He paused, considering. “Can be rather blunt.” Though there was little, if any, emotion in his voice, Zarik didn’t have any trouble comprehending that Kiwi was underselling. “I thought it best to…” Again, he seemed to pause to find the least offensive phrasing. “To alert you to this fact before meeting her.”
A smile crept onto Zarik’s lips. He blinked, the irises of his eyes a fair yellow blend with lavender rings along the far edge. He relaxed somewhat, casually kicking a leg out before letting it rest against the pillar again, and he asked, “Is she Quacian as well?”
For a moment, Kiwi looked almost as if he were going to laugh, but it may just have been the way the light caught in his grey-green eyes. “No. She is not.” He frowned, clearly considering something else, and added, “If she makes any comments about cannibalism, it is best to just ignore them.”
Zarik raised his eyebrows. He quietly laughed, “Ignore cannibalism, you say?” He moved to look forward at the city.
“That is what I said, yes.”
The blond shook his head. “Any other warnings you have for me about this associate of yours?”
Kiwi didn’t reply immediately. In fact, he took so long to speak, Zarik almost began to wonder if he’d disappeared again. “For all her acrimony,” he finally began, voice quiet and contemplative. “She is an exceptional human being, and she expects others to be much the same.”
Zarik lifted from his seated position on the pillar. He stood at the very edge, then turned around to look down at the shorter man. A vulnerable moment for himself, however, for it would take only the slightest push of a hand against his shoulder or chest to send his balance back so that he might plummet the many stories below the looming fortress wall. Perhaps it was an extension of trust, or perhaps a mere reckless offer to feel a momentary glance of danger that sharpened his senses. His eyes cooled into an ice blue color. He asked, “How do you travel like this? Is it your magic?”
Kiwi blinked once. “I will return shortly.”
And in the next blink, he was gone.
Zarik sighed, then turned around to look at the city again. He didn’t know what shortly meant, but he supposed he’d have to wait. After a couple bits, he sat at the edge of the pillar once more and thought about what Kiwi had said. Every now and then, he glanced to where he’d seen the dreamer last in expectation for a return… he would wait several bits… perhaps more. He had nowhere to truly be, at the moment, at least nothing that overrode his wonder.
It was a full five bits before Kiwi popped back into the same spot he had occupied, as if time had not passed at all, and he had slightly dropped out of reality and hadn’t noticed - but he was not alone this time. Next to him stood a… it was hard to determine at first glance. She was either a really handsome woman or a feminine-looking boy. She wore a simply clean shirt and a pair of pants, and the neutral clothing adorning her was not exactly aiding in his final conclusion of her gender. It was hard to make out anything of a chest or lack off underneath the clothing.
One thing was clear: she looked like he had just spat straight in her face.
