31st Vhalar, Arc 718
As though they waited to hear the secrets that the dead would whisper.
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It wasn't the best time of the arc for seeing the sights. Not on the streets of Scalvoris Town or anywhere else. But it wasn't the worst one either. The rain had finally let up, and Eliza was grateful. Whether it had been a downpour or a drizzle, and sometimes it was both in the same trial, the rust colored water that stained her clothing, her skin her hair and even the outside walls of her small rented home had added insult to injury.
The turtles were gone too, even the one whose shell she had painted with Master Brasseur. Eliza couldn't say exactly where they'd gone. But she assumed it back to wherever they'd originally come from. Oh. And then there were the strange whispers on the wind. Disembodied voices. Others called them spirits and still others ghosts. An important trial for Famula and her followers, Eliza knew, though she was neither of those.
But when the rains finally stopped, they were quickly replaced by a sharp, cold and stinging wind that pulled at Eliza's clothing, chilling her to the bone, tormenting her wherever she went when she was outdoors. It was still early Vhalar, but eventually Zi'da would come nipping at its heels and ushering in even colder trials.
The mortalborn lacked enough suitable clothing to last the the long cold season ahead, and much of it was worn and threadbare. Therefore she had decided to combine some shopping with her sightseeing.
Since she'd first arrived in the area, she'd remained on Scalvoris proper, and hadn't ventured past the gates or the edge of the harbor. But when the old woman next door had recommended a particular shop on Almund if she was looking for affordable but well made clothing, she'd decided to catch the next ferry over. She'd do a some shopping. Maybe stop into an inn or tavern for a mid-trial meal, and see what there was to see.
She almost immediately regretted the choice. The boat ride was miserable. What indoor shelter or seating there was had already been filled with other miserable travelers when she boarded. She'd had no choice but to stand huddled at the rail, her cloak pulled up around her ears to very little effect. The only redeemable part of it, was that when they finally made land, she was the first off the boat.
It wasn't any warmer or less windy on Almund than it had been back in Scalvoris Town. The mortalborn hadn't expected it to be. But it led her to an inescapable conclusion. Sightseeing was overrated. Another ferry would be heading back home in a handful of breaks; and she had just enough time to do her shopping, maybe get herself something warm to eat and a cup of tea at a local inn, then get back on the boat.