Dual Wielding

Trell was taking them on the scenic route, and Wyn was appreciative of that. He’d heard of Cliffside before, but compared to the rich, colorful descriptions of other places he’d read, he hadn’t thought it stacked up. Perhaps that was a folly of his youth though, as with several years of maturity since his obsessive reading days, he was able to enjoy the town to its fullest.

“…and this is The Grand Cavern, you can think of it kind of like the town square,” Trell was saying. The walk had led them to a giant open space in the cave system. The area was roughly circular, with a natural pillar—even larger in diameter than the spearwood—in the center acting as some sort of support. The pillar was covered from floor to ceiling in countless murals, colored with the same glowing paint that adorned the rest of the walls. Running along the outside of the pillar, in a spiral pattern, was a staircase which went all the way up to the ceiling before disappearing out of sight.

“What’s up there?” Corrin interrupted, pointing to the top of the staircase.

Trell hummed thoughtfully. “To be frank, I’m not sure. My best guess is it’s some sort of sacred place, but they don’t let outsiders up those stairs. I’ve even gotten mixed answers on whether you can go up if you marry someone from the town. It’s a strange thing.”

Wyn considered asking Eia to go look out of sheer curiosity, but ultimately his respect for the town’s customs won out, and he refrained. Instead, he glanced around at the many buildings which ringed the room. He got the impression that this was considered a nicer part of town. Unlike other tunnels they’d been down, here almost every building had windows, and the rugs outside of them were more exorbitant, covered in complex patterns and bright colors. Perhaps even more impressive was what they’d done with the extra space provided by the high ceiling.

Unlike the single-layered dwellings and shops in the outer tunnels, in The Grand Cavern, buildings ran almost halfway up the hundred-foot-tall wall, with staircases both inset and built out from the stone. Walking amongst them were scores of people, all dressed in bright colors to match the rugs. Though the actual weave of clothing wasn’t too different from any Wyn had seen, the garish colors would’ve been abnormal in Straetum, or either of the smaller towns he and Corrin had visited. Here though, they seemed like a mark of pride.

From what he’d heard, Straetum was one of the biggest towns on The Northern Plateau, but even from what little he’d seen so far, he got the impression Cliffside was one of the rare towns that was larger. If he hadn’t known about the blessing of stone singing, he wouldn’t have believed it was even possible.

“So, where’s this restaurant of yours?” Wyn asked, looking over at Trell.

“We’re just about there!” Trell laughed.

He led them out of The Grand Cavern, and into one of the side tunnels. They’d only traveled a dozen or so paces when he stopped, standing in front of a doorway that—while not as extravagant as those they’d just seen—was nicer than Wyn would’ve expected. Rather than a door, a purple curtain draped down in the opening, matching the simple purple rug outside.

“Shoes off at this point boys.” Trell said.

Wyn noticed the older man hadn’t ever been wearing them to begin with, content to blend in with the rest of the townsfolk. Of course, Wyn had no issue with taking his own boots off, and Corrin had never put his back on, so a moment later, they were through the curtain and into the building. As they moved past, the curtain made a soft tinkling sound, revealing the presence of several small chimes woven into it.

Wyn was shocked by how much lighter it was inside. The entire floor of the interior was carpeted with white, which he was sure contributed to the effect, like how it was brighter on a snowy day. But as he looked at the lightstones, he grew more certain that they were brighter than most. It still wasn’t close to proper sunlight but compared to the dimness of the rest of the caverns, it was noticeable.

The building itself was simple, with several wooden tables spread across a room perhaps twenty feet across in all directions. Two of the tables were currently occupied by other groups, and the building was filled with chatter coming from them. An unmanned counter at the front led back to what Wyn assumed was a kitchen. From back in the kitchen a voice called out: “I’ll be with you in just one moment.”

“You mean to tell me your wife isn’t here to cook today?” Trell called back. “Why’d I even bother stopping by?”

“I must be hearing things,” the voice said, “Because that sounds a lot like Trell Valera, but I’d swear I told him to never bring his ugly mug back to my tavern again.”

“Sorry Farris, bad news is you’re stuck with me till the day you die.”

A man that looked to be in his thirties, same as Trell, came around the corner from the kitchen. He was wearing a purple apron over a simple white tunic with no sleeves, and his long blond hair was tied back into a tight bun. His face brightened when he saw them, and he strode past the counter, wrapping Trell in a firm embrace.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way you bastard. How’s Phena doing?”

Trell laughed, clapping his apparent friend on the back. “I still haven’t figured out why she married me, but other than that bout of insanity, I’d say she’s doing quite well.”

“You’re married?” Wyn interrupted, reappraising Trell in his mind.

The blond man glanced over at Wyn. “Believe me I was just as shocked when I first found out.” He broke away from the hug and sized up the two boys before holding out a hand. “Farris Colan. It’s a pleasure to meet you, welcome to my tavern.”

They shook Farris’ hand in turn and introduced themselves, after which he turned back to Trell.

“So, what brings you into town? Business as usual?”

Trell grunted. “Aye, though I come bringing some even better news that usual. That bastard Din Kai is dead.”

Farris’ eyes widened slightly. “Spirit shit.”

“I’d swear to Tunukama!” Trell said.

Farris snorted. “Like that’d mean anything. You’re not kidding though? Somebody really put the old snake down?”

“You’re looking at ‘em” Trell gestured to the two of them. Corrin waved.

Farris looked back, growing more flabbergasted by the moment. “How you know they’re not pulling your leg?”

“I was there.”

Farris sputtered, his face morphing through several different emotions before settling on one of excitement. He let out a whoop, drawing looks from the guests seated across the room. “It’s about damn time!” He looked at the two of them again. “You can eat for free. Anything you want!”

“Um… I’ve heard the rock clams are good?” Corrin said.

“I’ll have them right up!” Farris said. “Anything else?”

Trell held up a finger. “Why don’t you let the boys get a taste of some local specialties. I’m sure they’ll enjoy them.”

“Of course… By Tunukama, I can’t believe you’re bringing good news for once Trell!”

The merchant chuckled. “Well, I do try every now and again. We’ll take that table for four over there. No rush on the food, but could you get us some drinks?”

Farris grabbed drinks from the back for each of them. Water for Wyn, mead for Trell, and juice for Corrin. He gave each one of them an embrace in turn, and then rushed back into the kitchen to prepare the dishes. In the meantime, the three of them took a seat, leaving one chair open next to Wyn.

“Who’s the fourth seat for?”

“You’ll see.” Trell said. “I invited one other person to this little sit down. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Wyn said. “The more the merrier.”

I wonder who it is though.

Corrin leaned forward. “So how do you two know each other?”

Trell chuckled. “That’s a bit of a long story, and I’m not particularly proud of it. But well… let’s just say we shared a cell at one point in Precipice.”

Well, that needs a mountain of context I don’t think I’m going to get.

“Yeah, sounds like a long story. I wouldn’t have guessed. Honestly, I figured you may have fought in the war or something.” From his limited interactions with the man, Wyn could tell he had a certain experience in commanding people. Knowing about the Nladian war, he’d somewhat figured there’d been a connection there.

Trell took a drink from his mug, tapping it back down with a satisfied smile. “Not in the big one, but that’s a whole different story.”

Wyn glanced at Corrin, who just shrugged. Wyn had to wonder at this point if Trell just liked being vague. He didn’t fight in the Nladian war, but implied he’d been in others?

What other wars have there been? Wyn wondered. He wasn’t exactly an expert on the politics of The Plateau or Grass Sea, but he figured he’d have heard about any wars that had been fought around the area. Maybe not though?

“Well,” Corrin tried, “how about the fact you’re married? I wouldn’t have expected that. Is there a story there?”

“You could say that.” Trell said. Wyn thought he was going to stop there, but after a moment he continued. “After Farris and I finally got out of that cell, he came back here to his hometown to start over. On the other hand, I wasn’t planning on changing at all. I started trying to find a way back to my old gang, but the spirits had other plans.”

“Your wife?” Wyn guessed.

“Aye.” Trell took another drink. “I woke up in her home after a particularly bad fight. She’d found me on the street and patched up my injuries while I was out cold. Even then, I was always the type to pay off my debts, so I stuck around a bit while I did so. Frankly I still don’t know what she saw in me. Spirits know I was a rotten little shit. But somehow or another, it ended up being a bit more permanent than I expected.

Anyways, her father happened to run a small trading company, really a tiny little thing. But she convinced him to give me a chance—there’s no stopping that woman when she gets going I tell ya. He never stood a chance and neither did I—so I ended up a merchant. Turned out I wasn’t half bad at it, and eleven years later here I am.” He took another long swig. “That’s basically my life story.”

Corrin raised an eyebrow. “You left out like half the details. What about everything that happened before that?”

Trell smiled. “I told you the only part that mattered. Everything else before it, I couldn’t care less about.”

Wyn took a breath, thinking about those words. It didn’t quite seem to him like they were painful memories, he knew enough about what that was like. It was something else, like Trell had just… left the rest behind. All that remained, Wyn supposed, were the bonds he deemed worth keeping, like his friendship with Farris. At the end of the day, it wasn’t Wyn’s place to pry, and even as awkward as he could be sometimes, Corrin seemed to get it too. He didn’t press any further.

They made some idle chat, asking a few more questions about Cliffside itself, and within a few more minutes, the food came. Farris presented a platter piled high with a variety of different foods, from what looked like flat rocky creatures, to—were those worms?

Trell noticed their faces and laughed heartily. “Oh, you poor children. I hope neither of you are picky eaters.”

Corrin smiled at that. “No problems here, but I’m not quite sure how we’re supposed to eat a rock.”

“Well, you don’t eat that part. We’re after what’s inside.” He grabbed one of the rocks—which he called a rock clam—and showed them how to eat it, opening it and sucking out the meat from inside.

It was right as Wyn was about to try it for himself that they heard the chiming of the curtain from the front of the building, and a familiar blonde girl walked around the corner, slowing to a stop when she saw them all sitting at the table.

“Ah, there you are Kei!” Trell called over. “Come have a seat, you’re just in time!”

Kei walked over stiffly. “Hello Trell. When you said you’d be getting food with some people from the caravan, I seem to have misunderstood. If I’d known we were eating with such… honored guests, I would’ve prepared differently.”

Wyn rubbed the bridge of his nose as Trell raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? It’s just Wyn and Corrin. I figured treating them to a meal was the least we could do. Plus, you’re all about the same age, right? You kids should get along.”

Corrin spoke up. His words came out a bit muffled though, as there was clam in his mouth. Apparently, he’d been a bit quicker than Wyn. “I’d like to point out, you didn’t treat us to a meal, Farris did. Also do I chew on this?”

“Meh, I led you here, didn’t I? Same thing. And that’s up to you. Some people don’t, some people do. I like to just bite in and release some of the flavor before I swallow it mostly whole.”

Kei laughed awkwardly. “Well, I suppose it’s too late now…” She took a seat and hesitantly reached for the platter. Her hand froze halfway there. “I’m sorry are those worms?”

“It’s a local specialty! Fried mealworm. The soil around her makes them delicious,” Trell said with a grin. He grabbed a few and tossed them back, chewing contentedly as he reached out and handed some to Wyn, nodding.

Wyn liked to think his mother hadn’t raised a picky eater, but worms? That seemed to be pushing it a bit.

But he saw Corrin reach for them out of the corner of his eye, and before his friend could grab them for himself, Wyn had taken them from Trell and tossed them into his mouth.

“Oh,” he remarked. “That’s actually not that bad.” He'd been expecting a dirtier taste, but it was actually fairly inoffensive, and most of the flavor he got was from the breading. It wasn’t something he thought he’d eat again after leaving this town, but it wasn’t going to have him hurling either.

“Farris knows how to make ‘em.” Trell said. "It's not really so much about the taste as the crunch... though I guess it could be more of an acquired thing."

Kei looked like she was going to vomit. And this time Wyn didn’t think it was from fear.

“Not really a fan,” Corrin said as he swallowed his own handful. “But the monster meat was worse. Try the clam though Wyn. It was actually pretty great!”

Wyn did just that, getting a taste of the clam as Trell asked for clarification about Corrin’s monster meat statement. The clam was far better, and he found himself going back for seconds, then thirds. As he did, he saw Kei pry one open and try it for herself. She made a face and didn’t eat any more after that.

For a moment, Corrin and Trell had fallen into their own conversation, so he decided to strike up one of his own, chipping away at the perceived wall.

“Not a fan of the rock clams?” He asked Kei.

She glanced over before looking down at the plate. “It’s different from the clam back home,” She said softly.

“You eat clam in Taravast?”

She nodded. “It’s on the sea, so we eat fresh seafood quite regularly. I like the shellfish at home, but this tastes more… earthy I guess.”

Wyn chuckled. “Well, that’s the ‘rock’ in ‘rock clam’ for you.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought there might’ve been the faintest trace of a smile on her face after that. “Here, let me go see if I can get you something else.”

“Wait I couldn’t ask—” But Wyn was already up.

After asking Farris what else he had on hand, Trell’s friend was more than happy to scoop up some creamy mushroom chicken he had in a pot, which Wyn figured would be an easy enough choice. The rich, aromatic dish stirred Wyn’s appetite even further, and he was almost jealous. Wyn brought the bowl back to the table and set it down in front of Kei.

“Give that a shot, it might be more to your liking.”

Kei took a spoonful of the dish, glancing over twice at him as if looking for approval, but he just glanced over her shoulder towards the paintings on the stone walls. Like the rest in Cliffside, the seemed to have been drawn on in glowing paint. It really was a nice kind of decoration, especially when you could see the difference between something painted by a child, and a true master. The best ones used the different levels of light to create incredible three-dimensional looks.

Finally, Kei blew softly on the spoon, disrupting the steam coming off the hot surface, and took a bite. To say her eyes widened would’ve been too much, but her expression seemed to grow a bit softer. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“It’s no problem. It seems we made a bit of an impression on the owner, so he didn’t mind at all.” Wyn reached for more of the food on the table, sating his own hunger that was stirred by the smell of the soup.

He noticed Eia walking around one of the opened clams, inspecting it curiously as though she thought it was the most interesting thing in the world. He tapped on their bond lightly, and smiled when she started. She looked up at him curiously, but he just shook his head slightly, giving her a gesture of "never mind".

After a brief silence, Kei put down her spoon. “Do you want to hear more about Taravast?”

Wyn leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of water. “Not right now. Besides, you’ll get sick and tired of all the Taravast questions we’ll ask by the end of this trip. I think I want to try and enjoy the places I’m already at a bit more. Did you see The Grand Cavern? Incredible right?”

“It was a sight.” Her voice grew a little more confident. “I wanted to see what was at the top of those stairs, but the guards wouldn’t let me pass.”

Wyn choked a bit. “You actually went up there?”

“Was I not supposed to?” Kei blushed.

“Trell said it was a sacred site or something, but I guess it’s a big secret.”

“A sacred site… Do you think that’s where the giant worm lives?”

“So, he told you about that too?”

Kei laughed, a musical thing. Her face had a bit more color in it, like the soup had spread its heat to her, and she seemed just a little more alive. “I can’t tell if he’s joking or not! Do you think it’s really a giant worm? How could they eat worms here if that’s basically their sacred spirit? Also, don't you have to wonder how they keep this rug clean?”

“Wait yeah, those are some good questions.” Wyn furrowed his brow. He didn't know the answer, but he supposed Trell might. “Hey Trell, how come…”

The conversation came easily for the rest of the night, flowing from life in Straetum, to whose room had the best rugs; simple, mundane things. In the face of a quest across the continent, or a past better left behind, none of these things should have mattered at all. But for a moment, each one seemed to forget about the things they’d failed to do, the things they needed to do, and the things they were worried might come to pass.

For a moment, they just enjoyed the meal.