Somewhere Someplace

“Woah…” Blue’s eyes glimmered with amaze as she peered agape to the scene before her sight.

Although she was still lightly lethargic from that…momentary food-poisoning the day before, she was now with rather the energy this fresh new day. Especially since all that at which she so stared was an almost alien world to that through which she had been traversing days prior…

The grass was so pristine, not nearly with as much oranging and yellowing decay, despite it being Autumn’s Eve; the plants and scattered trees were so lively, despite them not being truly evergreen; she could have sworn that every shrub had some kind of…berry on it, and every bush was a kind of…rose.

Although Blue had been through here before, the whiplash from the change in environment lashed her, nevertheless. It was as if this entire region was in defiance of Autumn, clinging onto Summer’s waning light.

After half a day of delay yesterday and some few hours of travel since leaving Restberry late-morning this day, they were now solidly within the so-locally-called ‘eastern bulge’ of the Huckleberry Dutchy, having entered some thirty-minutes prior.

And, as had been so declared by those armored souls so encountered, they were specifically within dominion of the…Bounded Fortress of Watchberry of the March of North Riverberry East of the Vice County of Riverberry East of the Border County of Riverberry—all so uttered without even a single pause.

In general, the eastern bulge was an environmental anomaly with respect to the rest of the Huckleberry Dutchy, foregoing the sprawling woodlands and more ‘bumpy’ topography with softer more humble hills and more open lush plains. The bulge was considered a component of the so-locally-called ‘rose plains’ of the so-locally-called ‘central foodlands’—named from the very productive agriculture in this region—rather than the Great Forest and its subsidiary ‘child’ forests despite the relative proximity, being separated by the—so aptly named—‘Big Dividing River’; a river too inconveniently wide for bridges to cross, requiring the need to be ferried—the access to which was controlled by Riverberry on both sides.

Suffice it to say, the five—nominally six—counties that collectively made up the eastern bulge—Strawberry, Raspberry, Blackberry, Dewberry, and West Cherry principally; Riverberry nominally—belonged to another world of their own. These plains and rose-petal fields conveyed not only diverging environments, but also diverging customs; the winds carried the vestigial echoes of history once independent from that of the greater Huckleberry Dutchy—dead history still being stubbornly clung onto by bitter ghosts.

Of course, none of these details were remotely the cause of Blue’s infatuated stare; for indeed, it was not merely scenery she was starting at as much as…animate beings.

“So many of them…” Blue blurtfully remarked; “It has been ages since I have seen such a herd of striped horses…”

“Not horses” Red corrected, staring off in kind… “Zebras, pay attention to their calls and sounds…”

Indeed, frolicking in the distance about in the plains next yet afar, congregating upon a large pond for such pristine water, were equines of sorts. ‘Zebras’, to be specific.

“Greenfield Zebras, to be precise…” Novea thus interposed, having moved herself next to Blue in order to gaze out in kind; “You can tell from their green, pink, and brown coating patterns”.

“Yeah… So, they might look like horses, but they’re even less tamed than a donkey and more stubborn than a mule…” Red thus spoke.

“Huh… So that is what… I mean, I knew these are…obviously different from horses, but…I did not know the word…” Blue replied to both, mellow and fascinated. She gently turned her head to Novea; “Though, wait… Greenfield, did you say? These zebras are from the High Garden?”

“Yeah, they are—or were… They do not exist there anymore…” Novea thus answered.

“But… The High Garden is to the dutchy’s south, smudged within the southwest-central mountains… So, how did they get here?” Blue remarked and inquired…

“Well, back before the construction of its great walls, Greenfield’s unique animals and…monsters…were able to cross freely into—” Novea was answering, yet…

“Rightly, but I was more wondering why…these zebras are only found here in the eastern bulge and not, say, in the south” Blue clarified her inquiries.

“I was going to get to that, but…essentially, Greenfield Zebras were introduced to the bulge from smuggling—there was a demand for exotic mounts, and Greenfield’s unique animals were…”—eyes peered at the zebras frolicking afar—“I mean, they…blend well with the eastern bulge’s…evergreen rosiness…” she explained; “But, anyway, dozens were smuggled in as foals and were sold to nobles and wealthy commoners alike, and eventually breeders began to breed them, but in doing so…”

“Breeding caused a saturated supply, prices dropped, the novelty wore off, and demand diminished… If I may guess…” Blue interposed, deducing.

“Yeah… And, so, most stopped breeding them, and those left were…” Novea was speaking…

“Abandoned and left to wander?” Blue completed…

“Essentially” Novea replied.

Blue rolled her eyes with rather the sigh; “Typical… Does not matter the goods or where, chaser-merchants always behave the same…”

“Yeah… Well, anyway, they quickly spread throughout the eastern bulge and the roselands… I believe this caused many original animals to…migrate further east, which…caused…problems for those realms… Also, the presence of the Greenfield Zebra also attracted…monsters that developed a taste for them…” thus Novea finished.

“…lovely, so that means ample work…” Blue so exhaled; “I have to say again, though… For an assassin who keeps much ambiguous and secretive, you certainly seem to fancy unsolicitedly expositing random knowledge” she remarked, cordially.

Novea, once again, could not help but…perhaps…blush behind her corvid mask… “The Bureau knows a lot, so I know a lot by extension; though, I suppose I…” she was going to say, yet then…paused… She was becoming too caught in this moment, nearly forgetting the mask she was currently wearing. “It is whatever it seems…” she simply said, dropping it all…

“Oh… Alrightly, then…” Blue replied in kind, somewhat awkwardly… The moment itself became abruptly awkward.

Novea proceeded to return to where she had been sitting—next to Antica who had remained in place this entire time.

If Antica had the capability to stare at these so-called ‘zebra’ equine faunae, then she…perhaps…would be… But, alas, she had to fill in the blanks with her imagination. The…noises these apparent equines were making…seemed oddly familiar, at least. She had heard such before; yet such remained lost in the timeless abyss of her eroded memories. Had to be…relatively recent, though.

The unicorn, meanwhile, was staring in the direction of those Greenfield Zebras frolicking afar, hearing those alien sounds and distorted neighs belonging to those creatures that so donned familiar shape yet could not be any more different and lesser. The unicorn…perhaps pondered within its inner abyss…many things; many matters…

Before more abrupt than sudden, the sounds more becoming of a zebra began to reverberate, frolicking throughout the winds as if joining the others. Yet such sounds were not emanating from the direction of those zebras afar, rather…

Indeed, heads turned as eyes stared…at the source…

“Huh…” Blue mumbled… “He is… Huh…”

“Sure, whatever of fuckings… Go rightfully ahead…” Red was hardly bemused—utterly indifferent, so desensitized indeed…

The unicorn, attention fixated, was replicating their sounds… Although initially odd and alien, the more it mimicked, the more authentic it became… It required little time before the unicorn had mastered their sounds and could fluently squeal in their pseudo-tongue.

And the unicorn would not silence itself whatsoever. The chimera would flaunt its newfound zebratic mastery for the next foreseeable hours. Frankly, whatever exotic allure those zebras had, whatever beauty could be found in their sounds, all became quickly lost…to the ears of those who had not the choice but to hear.

-||-

“…” An armored man on horse stared as chimeric eyes peered into his very heart and soul, comprehending him more than he could comprehend it. The horse upon which he was mounted was also staring, however the utter nothingness of its empty mind came of no interest to the freeze-inducing chimera in front.

A retinue of sorts, seemingly, adorned with such glistening cream-esque colored armor of quality donned over a barely discernable red tunic—a tunic patterned as if adorned with strawberry seeds. His visored sallet helmet had a fruity plume that made it seem as if his head had a tail.

Indeed, one did not need to look at the heraldic device emblazoned upon his chest and silky cape to know that this man was a high-born retinue—a knight—of none other than Strawberry County. Every fiber of his composition exclaimed ‘strawberries’, as if in an almost cult-like worship—hyperbolically, but practically so.

And being with six holstered—outdated but nevertheless stylistic—wheellock pistols, this knight was obviously a pistoleer, and he was not alone.

“Yeah, a unicorn. Wow.” Red so sarcastically spoke; “Now, respectfully, do you mind telling me why you cut us off and are blocking our way?!” Knight, noble, or whoever, Red did not care to filter his tone. Although, he also wanted to retain possession of his testicles—the castration of such being a common punishment in these lands for such offenses. Thus, he was not nearly as belligerent as he could be.

The young pistoleer blocking the way remained bemused, however; although such a staunchly apparent creature was noticed well before this moment—obviously—, he nevertheless remained frozen with the reality of what he was directly facing…

“Rectly…” the road-blocking pistoleer’s breaths finally ahemed, his visored sight shifting to Red proper; “We haven betweenstepped tofore you that we may informen of your entry wayfrom Riverberrie and into ouren Strawberrie Countie, and…”—his knightly sight momentarily shifted to the unicorn— “that we…”

“ ‘Inquiren whatfore ye haven this unicorn’, let me guess…” Red, mocking dialect, so interjected…

And, as if in direct response, the unicorn promptly neighed—zebraticly—while maintaining fixed eye contact to the man and equine in front.

“Obviously, this thing’s a Gods’ ordained stripeless zebra with a fake horn” Red thus said; “Now, I’ve got the clearance for Strawberry County, and so…how about you let us through?”

Although Red was feigning naivety, the true situation they were in was rather…obvious to him, the other pistoleers having already surrounded them with hands prepared to draw. This was not a normal clearance check, if one at all; he doubted, likewise, if the unicorn was even the center of this stop.

“Clearances be not necessary in Strawberry as four months past thenceforth.” another pistoleer so spoke in…somewhat clearer accent, his horse clopping closer; being visibly more endowed, this was presumably their lead. “As thou mayst see, we be not bordermen, and this is no clearances’ check. And your unicorn, a sight’s peculiarity, is not an inquiry.”

Red nearly groaned in an ugh; so, he was correct… “Uhuh… What is this, then?”

The lead pistoleer’s horse clopped closer, standing next, its equine head…uncomfortably close. “What words thou prohibited from being finaltold was that this roadway and the direction whither leadeth is off-permitted for non-instood travels.” thus the lead stated.

“Great…” Red’s breaths bemoaned… Yep, that would explain the knights… However, that did not explain this sort of encircling stop; this could have been a simple warning of trespassing, yet was not. “Look, we’re with the Guild—can’t you see the Raven and her buddy madam hexagons in the back? We’re just trying to reach Strawberry proper, alright” he explained.

“Sightfulestly. We knowen that ye be adventurers; hit bleedeth outfrom you, and thy ‘nd your instanding for the Guild dothn’t easen thy case; hit only to-addeth ouren concerns of-to the intents” another pistoleer spoke, visored eyes turning to that Raven; “Especialestly thou, Raven…”

Red nearly bemoaningly groaned… “Great…”

Novea sighed and stood herself up, looking at all the…pistoleers surrounding their wagon. “If your concerns, sir knights, are if we are affiliated with or are coming from…Grandberry, then the answer is no. I and her are from the top north, these two adventurers having been enlisted from Sparklewater.” thus she spoke, as if she had rehearsed this in her head beforehand.

“Thine accent screameth such, Raven…” a pistoleer so remarked.

“Hm…” the lead pistoleer withdrew his horse from Red, clopping way to the wagon’s side… He peered at Novea; “Thy words travel as if we have treachery in intents or that it is presumed to be suchly by thee. Let me be clear: we be loyal to this county of Strawberry and hence the Duke in Grandberry by direction.” thus he spoke, officially.

For all intentions and purposes, this was now effectively a more ‘official’ communication between the two respective parties represented; thus, speakings needed to be spoken with some careful consideration. And Novea was not aloof to how this knight had so worded his words.

“And the Adventurers’ Guild is declaratively neutral—” Novea was replying…

“Thou motest not mistaken the lacking of loyalities as neutralities, Raven!” a pistoleer close enough interrupted, to which the lead pistoleer gestured with his hand, commanding stay out.

“We are here for affairs strictly appertaining to the Bureau of Scribes and Documentation and are unrelated to that of this realm. Additionally, by my being a Raven, it should be clear that neither I, nor she, nor these two adventurers are affiliated with the Security Office—if that is another concern.” Novea immediately followed-up.

The lead pistoleer’s attention had returned to Novea; “Thy Guild’s Security Office is helping the duke with order’s keeping and treacherers’ finding, whatfore we beest concerned suchly? Notless, of course, if thou presumest us to be treacherers.”

“I am not saying that you are concerned; I spoke so in the possibility that you might be concerned, pursuant to the Office’s reputation and its current presence.” Novea replied. “To reiterate, our matters appertain strictly to the Bureau of Scribes and Documentation regarding Guild-specifics issues unrelated to that of this realm.” she repeated.

“Hm.” the lead pistoleer stared; “Vaguety dothn’t ease thy case, Raven, but only addeth to our concerns, specialestly during these catastrophe’s times with rumors of your involvement.” he thus stated; “Neither thy Bureau nor thy Guild be true neutrals, and our Strawberry hath problems enough.”

“And we are not here to add to those problems.” Novea specified.

“Fromtold by your reputation and by histories recentest, thy words travel untrusted.” the lead so stated; “That all being told, however, I shall straightly ask: thy Guild mayhap beest friends to Huckleberry, but do ye be friends to Strawberry?”

Novea…took a moment. “The definition of ‘friend’ is complicated,” she thus began to speak, “neither the Guild nor its Bureau of Scribes and Documentation are ‘friends’ with any one realm, but we like to be cooperative.”

Promptly, her hand withdrew into her Raven cloak; searching and finding, she took out a folded piece of rather official paper—a special letter handed to her some time ago—and unfolded it. Considering what she had been briefed regarding Strawberry, Novea was permitted to disclose what she was going to disclose.

She held out the special letter to the lead pistoleer’s sight; “And, in this specific matter, we are cooperative with the United Central Trade Company, and they are a friend of Strawberry, no?” she thus said.

“Hm…” The lead pistoleer looked at the letter, eyes making out… “I see…” Moments passed, before the lead pistoleer’s horse abruptly backed away, his attention turning to the wagon collectively; “We shan’t intrude furthermore. You may continue to Strawberry.” he thus permitted.

Red sighed… “Finally…”

“However, this road remaineth off-permitted to you unaffiliated—ye mote continue by alternatives.” the lead pistoleer quickly added.

Red so peered… This road evidently had only two routes: forwards and backwards, no divergences. “You’re telling us to go back, essentially…” he remarked…

“We be telling you to find alternatives” the lead pistoleer replied.

“Which happens to be fucking back…” Red became belligerent.

The lead pistoleer sighed; “Fine. We may escort you some-forth. There is an alternative yonder our way, whence leadeth south-east, thence north, and hence ye mote merely follow the aqueducts to Strawberry”.

However, suddenly, the echoing shrieks of griffons pierced the air as if thunder, rapidly lancing way, passing by in the sky above yet distant enough. Besides a momentary startle, none paid any mind…besides…Blue. Such having been completely unexpected, she immediately jerked in an almost yelping shudder, her figure tightening with trembling breaths. “Red, I don’t want to be here anymore…” Blue’s quiet voice more impulsively blurted than intentionally spoke…

Novea stared, silent…

Red quickly glanced behind, seeing Blue was… Right… There was a limit to her tolerance. “No…” His attention returned to the pistoleers; “We’ll go back; I know other routes…”

“So be it.” the lead pistoleer simply replied.

Red tugged at the harness as the unicorn once again began to move, the pistoleers moving out of its way. The wagon drifted off road temporarily as it turned itself around to go back the way they had come. The pistoleers, however, shadowed them until they were definitively away from the off-limits route, after which they were finally left alone.

“Sorry…” Blue…mellowly apologized… “I have been trying my best to tolerate and not be a burden, but… I do not particularly fancy griffons…” she admitted…

“I noticed…” Novea…frankly replied.

Blue sighed; “What was all of that about, anyway? That was very strange, frankly…” She tried not to eye Novea, and instead eyed the sky; “You would think since we are in safer domain, that…there would be less griffons and knights, but…it seems awfully noisy…”

“Yeah…” Red’s eyes too were cast to the sky, spotting barely perceptible griffons in the distance far away… “Assembling…” he mumbled… “Strawberry’s up to something…”

“Not our priority or business.” Novea promptly stated.

“Yeah, speaking of business…” Red’s eyes shifted their glare; “You never said shit about being in bed with the Company…”

“It should have been obvious to you, Red.” Novea bluntly replied.

“Yeah, should’ve been… They occupy Coastfield…” Red’s breaths remarked, his glare retreating… “Guess that explains why we’re heading to Strawberry, then…”

“Hmm… Since we are talking of mentioning…” Blue began to speak, “you mentioned a…‘Security Office’.. I heard that label before, but… What is that precisely?”

Red turned his head, glaring at Blue… “Alright, the Bureau I can understand, Blue, but I know those doorknobs were mentioned during the ‘new member briefing’ shit the Guild does… You had to sign a bunch of shit, remember?”

Blue, however, promptly averted her gaze… Whistling, albeit failing, as she played with her fingers… “Ahuhm… So, one was supposed to…pay attention to…”

“…of course…” Red merely sighed… “Anyway, Blue, if the Bureau’s the Guild’s right testicle, then the Security Office is the left testicle, and they both hate each other—I’ll leave it at that…”

“…” Blue stared… “Red, at what…point in your head did you think…that was a sensible analogy?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Red waved his hand… His glare then shifted straight to Novea; “Though, yeah, you did explicitly mention the Office… Why? What was that about?”

Novea, however, remained silent… Although it was pointless to withhold what was open knowledge even if presently unbeknownst to them, there remained one for whom it was preferred that her ignorance remain as long as permissible. “How about you reflect and try to think this one out, Red.” she simply said.

“Isn’t that what you didn’t want me to do, bug?” Red so replied, though was hardly protesting. Indeed, he began to cogitate; however, he kept whatever he parsed in mind to himself, as a long mutual silence ensued.