• Memory • [Warrick] Of landlubbers and fish

[Rafael Warrick]

10th - 17th Ashan, 710th Arc

They had departed with thirty riders from Warrick under a leaden sky, now there were but twenty-eight soldiers remaining and his father insisted that Rafael shared the saddle with him after their encounter with a band of pirates along the way.

"Don't scratch it. You'll only open it up again," Ned said sternly as they trotted across the raw Warrick landscape. Rafael lowered his hand from his first battle injury to the side of his head. Hopefully it would become a wicked scar, it certainly felt quite impressive! For the time being, he obeyed his father however, who had already threatened to send him back on numerous ocassions.

"How big is it?" Rafael ventured to ask, tilting his head slightly to show his wound to his father.

"Far too big for little boys," Ned replied gruffly without even looking. "You were an idiot to charge into battle like that."

"But I hit him! The one with the big black beard and the missing teeth!" He crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "I would've handled him just fine if you hadn't ruined everything..."

Ned promptly brought his horse to a halt and Rafael shriveled a little at the harsh glare that was being send his way. "I thought you wanted to come with me," his father started, "but I understand now that you want to go home to brag about your idiocy..." The horse had already made a lazy turn when Rafael realized he'd done it again.

"No! Wait! I- don't make me go home!"

"Then behave," Ned answered. "You shouldn't be so damned proud to have nearly gotten yourself killed. You don't yet understand the difference between bravery and foolishness, so don't pretend to."

What his father was getting at, young Rafael didn't quite understand, but he nodded his head vigorously either way. Anything to prevent being sent home. It wasn't every day that his father brought him along on important business after all. Not that he cared for the business. He only cared for the Biqaj, who he'd only heard about from his tutor Olyfer, and now he was going to meet real ones! Even more important than that was that they would visit the sea again. He'd only been there a few times, usual during the warmer seasons. With this kind of cold, he wondered if the entire ocean hadn't frozen over.

"Dad?" he piped up after they'd resumed their journey for a little while.

"Yes?"

"Do their eyes really change?"

"Whose?"

"The Biqaj. Olyfer said that they have different eye colors based on where the moon and suns are."

"Yes that is true," Ned replied while a light grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "They also eat wild little cubs like you for dinner!" He poked Rafael's sides with his fingers until the squealing boy yielded, after which he was made to swear to shut his yapper for the rest of the journey.

The wind had picked up by the time they arrived on the beach and Rafael wrapped his fur cloak tightly around himself as he was hoisted out of the saddle by his father. "Now listen carefully Rafael," Ned said as he dropped to Rafael's height and wagged his finger at the button-nose boy, "these are real negotiations and the Biqaj are very good at negotiating. I want you to listen and pay careful attention to what happens, but you must not, under any circumstance, interfere. Is that understood?"

"Yes father," Rafael answered through chattering teeth.

"Do you remember what they want?"

"Buy a ship," Rafael replied simply.

"A schooner, actually. And what do we want?"

"Sell a ship?"

"Yes, and...?"

Rafael shrugged.

"The Biqaj are excellent sailors Rafael. We share a loathing for Pirates. If we build them this ship we can perhaps combine our military might with their seafaring skills and chase away some pirates in return."

"Why?!" Rafael huffed, his little fists clenching, "I could take them on!"

"What? Are you going to talk them to death?" Ned laughed and ruffled his son's hair. "Goodness, I never realized you were so bloodthirsty. Make you sure you don't murder our guests, will you?"

Something else had caught Rafael's eye in the meantime. While the twin suns reached their zenith and a little warmth finally broke through, two specs became visible on the water. And from those specks, a handful of rowing boats emerged, containing a small shipment of Biqaj ready to do some business. Upon his father's gesture, Rafael and five of the Warrick soldiers followed to meet their guests while the wind whipped at their hair.

"Why do they wear so much jewelry?" Rafael piped up, but Ned quickly shushed him.

"Greetings, Dhruv!" his voice boomed across the beach as he approached the Biqaj with open arms. "I hope you've had a good journey?"

[Moiran]

The waters were far from warm. Fourteen year old Nadeja Ej'ryn let her hand trail through the sea regardless, thoughts of frigid giant's blood flowing through her mind. It was for their slaughter that the ocean had a similar taste to blood. Or that was what her father swore within the weaving of his many stories. There was in sea water the exact same ratio of salt as in the bloodstream of the biqaj. No other race could lay claim to that chemical connection, No other mortals could call U'frek their father. He had put ears for the song of the stars on them and raised them out of the death. In that bold, panacean action, he turned all the waters of Idalos into their amniotic fluid.

The immortal of the waters had probably not gone to the trouble of resurrecting an entire people just so, centuries later, an irritated young biqaj could sulk her way through disembarkation.

"Why do I have be dressed up?" Nadeja snatched her hand from the water and pitched forward on her seat in the rowboat. She poked her father between his ribs, through the fine, deep indigo of his good coat.

"Why do I have to hear you ask the same question one hundred and a thousand times?" Captain Dhruv Ej'ryn, the charismatic leader of the sprawling Ej'ryn fleet, twitched when poked.

A sweep of midnight hair slid forward into changeling eyes as he looked back at his only surviving daughter. Not yet young, but with no silver yet adorning his hair, Dhruv was handsome as the sun that had burnished his face. Doubtless, his good looks had something to do with the fact that he had a whole horde of sons. None of them shared a mother with Nadeja, his youngest, but there weren't many of them who shared a mother at all. Dhruv claimed he had only ever found two people living worth settling down for. One of them had been smart enough to leave him before he could mount her on his prow and the other he made his quartermaster. The indefatigable Samax Gwar'ryn was the captain's balance in many things, but he had enough wisdom to maintain a private life of his own.

"My feet hurt." Nadeja poked her father again.

"That's 'cause there's shoes on your feet, girl." Dhruv swatted at her hand. "Mrav! Heave those oars to the pouty-fish here, eh? Give her something to occupy herself with other than bruising my ribs."

"I don't like shoes." The young woman flapped her hands at her father before thrusting them eagerly toward the dark skinned Mrav. Dimples dented into her cheeks. "Sure! I'll row!"

Mrav eyed her and made no move to give up his position. "Row us right back to the Starseeker, you will. Hmph." He spat over the side.

"I don't know why we have to linger all of Ashan on land like a bunch of flat foots." Nadeja slumped her face dramatically into her hands, but at least she began to bemoan her fate a little less loudly.

Samax observed this from the neighboring rowboat with a resigned expression. "Dhruv?" The quartermaster raised his voice to carry over the crash of the inbound tide they rode upon. A muscled arm swept towards the kingdom beach and the appearance of riders on the hill. "They've come."

With a heave of oars, the whole collection of rowboats caught the swift tip of the tide and surfed with the crest into the shallows. Dhruv used that momentum to rise, a languid yet powerful motion, and shield his eyes from the sun as he gazed at the force that awaited them.

"Warrick," he confirmed after a few trills. A smirk sharpened his mouth. "I hope he brought us mounts to ride."

"We're riding?" Nadeja gasped, horrified.

Laughter burst out of her father and their boat scraped into the sand. He jumped into the wet to traverse the damp , sucking sand with an inborn grace. A hand lifted in response to Ned Warrick's greeting and he strode his way up through the dunes to meet them. The rest of those accompanying were left to haul the boats safely out of the tideline, but Samax and Nadeja hastened to be first. The quartermaster's strides were longer than even her father's, but Nadeja made up for the lack with an abundance of energy and bounce. By the time Dhruv made the top of the hill, she was scurrying up behind him and the quartermaster loomed. There was an edge to Samax, something decidedly dangerous lurking in his narrow face despite the natural warmth of his brightening eyes.

"Journey was fair enough." Dhruv swept a look over the lot of them, doing a quick count, before he offered the Andaris nobleman his hand for a shake like the commoner he was. Of course, there were those who knew to call a self-made salt prince a prince when they saw him. "Ned. It's good to be seeing you again."

"Hi." Nadeja blinked right over at the only other child. Younger than her, she quickly noted, but that did not have to be a bad thing. She tugged at the hem of her jade green jacket. She found it too snug. There were gold drops in her ears and fitted, fine leather pants on her along with those damnable boots. Dhruv had said that in Rynmere they had a bad habit of judging people by the clothes and mannerisms (like fools), and so she needed to look less like an urchin and more like a nice young lady. Whatever that meant.

[Rafael Warrick]

10th - 17th Ashan, 710th Arc

A firm handshake later, Ned Warrick let his eyes rove over his guests. They lingered on Samax for a moment, but then moved on. While it was true that the nobility of Rynmere cared a great deal for outward appearance, Nadeja would find an ally in the hard-working men and women from Warrick who cared more far more for practicality and sturdiness. The company of Warrick soldiers all toted long, thick cloaks lined with fur and the leathers they wore creaked with age whenever they moved. "I see you have tired of having sons?" Ned spoke to Dhruv with in a light, humored manner, as though they were very old friends. "At least, I assume she is yours?"

Ned didn't linger on the question for too long and simply motioned for Dhruv to follow to the back of the company were about a dozen horses stood prepared to carry the Biqaj guests to the Warrick estate. "We've brought provisions for the road to the estate, and there will be a grand feast awaiting us there. And then, we can do bussiness!" Ned's voice carried itself over the dunes as Rafael stood forgotten opposite the strange girl in her odd jacket.

"Hi," he replied sheepishly and offered a little wave. After a few trills of staring at her he decided that the poor girl must be freezing in just her jacket. Without so much as asking permission, he crossed the no man's land between them, shed his cloak, and offered the warm fur to the girl with a stiff little bow. "I thought you might be cold," he added with a little shrug. Then, he proceeded to stare at her intensly as he tried to see if her eyes really did change color, never minding how startling it might be for the young Biqaj to be inspected thusly. When, to his disappointment, the girl turned out not to possess freakish rainbow colored eyes he let out a bored sigh and glanced over to where his father and Dhruv were inspecting the horses. Part of him hoped a group of pirates would come charging over the hill so he could show his bravery to the foreign girl.

A few trills of silence passed between them before Rafael spoke again. "What's your name?" he asked with the startling straightforwardness of a seven-year old before scrunching up his nose in distaste, "you smell of fish."