"My friend." Darion leaned over and gave Isis a final hug as she stood outside his manor. A carriage behind her was provided by the fat lord. "I hope you will visit me again." Isis smiled and pulled back, breaking the hug.
"Old man, I could never turn down your invitation." Looking to the clear sky, she covered her eyes and smiled, "When I come back to the desert, I'll make sure to visit you, but please take care of your health whilst I am away. I wish to see you, not your grave." Darion smiled and nodded as Kaya stood forward, bringing Isis into an embrace.
"My husband never listens to me; perhaps he will for you." Pulling back, Kaya sweetly smiled, "Do take care and don't hesitate to return if you face any troubles." With a nod, Isis turned around and boarded the carriage, waving a final time before the carriage rolled off. Leaning backwards into the soft cushion, she took a deep breath and smiled to herself, watching the passing city, smiling.
.
.
.
"We have arrived." After two days of travel, the driver said. Opening the window and leaning out, Isis could see the fortified city of Kript in the distance and quickly pulled out her journal to record the sight she had seen before, getting a new feeling from it than the last time.
'Sandstone walls, towering towards the heavens, a shield to defend Kript from the desert. A wall to protect its way of life and people. No house or shop peaks above, yet their energy for the city can be felt even when out of sight, the walls walked by soilder and civilians alike.'
Looking past the walls, Isis saw the lone building that peeked through.
'The Yellow Palace. The Fort of Sand. The Spear of the Dester. The Beacon of Kript. Looming above, its yellow walls are bare but proud, watching over the desert, leading and guiding its people to civilisation. Walls higher than the city's own, a final bastion for its people when all feel lost. A towering spire at the centre, atop it, the flag of the Desert, the family who took the responsibility of the One Eyed Traveller, visible no matter how far you are, a red man with a shepherd's staff, on a brown background.'
Isis took a deep breath and smiled, entering through the gates of the city. Watching the people and taking in the city, she continued to write.
'A city of life, contrasted to the barrenness of the desert. Sandstone buildings tightly compacted with small alleyways to break them apart. Atop the roofs, on the streets and in the windows, people, some working hard labour in the scorching heat, others lounging, enjoying beverages and the pipe. Cotton and gold. Cheap trinkets and jewellery. Children and soldiers. Side by side, they exist inseparable to one another.'
Isis paused and stared at her writings, closing the endless journal, happy, anything more being too much. After a short ride, the carriage came to a stop, and Isis looked out at the great port of Kript, a megolith within the city that funded everything she saw. Merchant ships side by side with warships. "Thank you." Turning to the driver, she smiled and walked off, approaching one of the warships.
The crew looked at her with a strange gaze, and when he didn't leave, one came over and sighed, "Can we help you?"
"I wish to talk to your captain." The sailor stared at her for a moment and shrugged. Walking off, he returned with a fit man with layered clothing, mixing both functionality and decoration together. Atop it all was thin leather that allowed the body to breathe but provided the bare minimum of protection.
"You wish to talk?" Isis nodded to the burly man and handed him the ring Darion provided.
"Shall we find somewhere more private..."
"Farid or captain. Take your pick." The man swooped up the ring and inspected it for a second. After years of handling the stuff, he knew instantly it was real and pocketed it, seeing it too big for his fingers and led Isis up on his hip, into his quarters. Going over to a nearby cabinet, he pulled out two wooden mugs and a cheap bottle of wine, pouring himself and his guest a glass before sitting down, "So what do you wish to discuss?"
"First, I am wondering if you and your crew are going hunting soon." Farid smiled and nodded, taking a sip of wine. Clapping her hands together, Isis brightly smiled, "Perfect, let me join you." His smile dropped instantly as he slowly lowered his cup.
"Not a chance. Listen, my men, and I have enough trouble. Worrying about a lady such as yourself is soemthing we can't risk." Isis didn't get annoyed, expecting the answer. Taking a sip of wine, she put her journal on the table and opened it.
"Not even with the ring as payment?"
"The ring got you on here." Farid said with a half smile, taking a sip of wine, "And personally, it just isn't right to take a lady with us."
"Sir, I understand your worries, and quite frankly, I know what I am asking is quite stupid, but I wish to see it for myself and write about it." Farid stared at her for a moment before looking down at her journal.
"You're a storyteller." Seeing how thick it was, he chuckled, "Have you filled the book?"
"My journal can only finish when there is nothing left." Isis flipped through it. As she got closer to the last page, it seemed as if new ones formed to never let her finish, replacing those she had already flipped. Farid stared with his eyes widening in shock at such a thing.
"You made friends with a skilled Magi, it seems." Holding his hand out to ask for the journal, Isis didn't hold and let him take it. Closing it, he ran his hand over the cover, feeling the runes on its cover, "A very skilled Magi."
"You see a lot of their work?"
"Pirates love artefacts as much as gold and hostages. If a Magi has seen the most, I bet a sailor and pirate are second in that list." Opening the journal, he flipped through it, reading a few of the stories and sights Isis had seen, smiling as he did. "Well, you have seen some danger, I will give you that. Why anyone would follow a murderer and write about him, I do not know."
Isis burst into laughter and shook her head, taking the journal back. Reading the page Farid had just read, she sighed, remembering the time, "He was fascinating, this guy. Every crime he committed was done in a way so that people would find him. He wanted people to know what he did. When I found him, I made a deal to write his tale in exchange for not dying, soemthing he eagerly accepted. In the end, he got the noose."
"You're a crazy lady," Farid said, seeing the pure nostalgia on Isis's face as she recounted the tale. Thinking for a moment, he stared at the journal. Isis saw it and picked it up.
"Tell me." Opening to a new blank page, she smiled, "What's your story?" The sailor took a sip of his wine and put it down, smiling to himself. Isis saw it, but behind that smile in his eyes, there was a heaviness.
"Every man has a role in life." His voice was deep. Rubbing his bushy beard, he chuckled to himself, "When I was a child, I realised my role. I saw the sailors returning from the sea, having protected a merchant fleet. There were those dead and wounded, but even with that, I saw the pride they carried, even into death, knowing they fulfilled their duty. Much like whatever caused you to do this, I was struck by it and vowed to become like them."
With a laugh, he took a sip of wine, "I grew older, learned the sword, learned the sea, served under a sailor, then became one. Worked my way up until I was in charge of my own ship." Rubbing his beard, he smiled, and looked past the door at the city, "It's thankless work I realised. Men and women expect this of you, and I am fine with that. Glory isn't what you expect it to be." Pausing, he licked his lips. His eyes changed, a subtle regret in them that was quickly dominated by cold duty, "I have always wondered what it would be like to have a wife, a child. But at the end of the day, my path was set when I first saw those sailors. My duty isn't to myself but the city I love. I protect them and their lifeline even at the cost of myself, so they can stay happy. And I plan on dying to do that."
"Couldn't you start a family even with this?" Isis asked in the moment of silence. Farid shook his head.
"It's selfish. Both to that family and the city. I have to leave home and would have to tell my wife and children that I may never return, leaving them to always pray for me. As for the city, my priority would no longer be them, but myself. I would fear death more than I fear what could happen if I fail. I refuse, but I am not alone because of this. I have brothers. Brothers I sail with. Brothers I have bled with. I have sisters who ensure we wear the finest clothes a sailor can have. Sisters who will nurse our wounds when we return and a little more. Honestly, I don't regret anything."
Isis copied every word and stared at Farid and smiled, seeing that he was finished. It was short but felt like it made sense for the man. Her pen moved, adding another line underneath.
'Duty over life. His regrets at what could have been will never shake him. His eyes were stern but warm. Captain Farid.'
Finishing the final line, Farid refilled their mugs and leaned back, "I can see like me, what you do isn't for thrill but a duty to yourself in a sense. I am not cruel to deny this, even if I find your actions ridiculous." Despite his words, Isis could tell he didn't mock her, "My men won't protect you, nor will they comfort you, nor will I. All I ask is, have you ever taken another man's life?"
The room fell silent as the two stared into one another's eyes. Farid brought the wine to his mouth and took a deep sip. Putting the cup down, he chuckled, "You have. I can see it in your eyes." Leanining towards her again, he smiled, "Tell me the story, and I will consider it payment to join me."