5. M'dagka
M’dagka leaned against the latticework gate that led out to the streets of The Crossing. Jadewater Mansion rose majestically behind her, casting a shadow across the lawn that stretched across to the Tenderfoot Inn. She’d heard the mansion was open to the public, and wondered about a family who would so willingly open up such a beautiful structure to the mud and dust of other’s feet. If she owned such a home, she’d post guards at every window and keep hunting dogs loose on the grounds.
She glanced over at the Inn, impatient. If the others didn’t hurry up, then she was going to leave, and to the Void with Coll and his silly insistence that they ought to all walk out the gate together, “for luck”, he’d said.
M’dagka snorted. The only luck was what you made for yourself. She planned to make plenty of it, but not by silly rituals or superstitions. Her fingers curled and uncurled as if by their own volition, and she glanced down at her hands, pale and unmarked, and wondered about the scars on the Elothean who called himself Ellian. He’d answered no to her unspoken question, but had he truly understood it? And, if he had, was his answer the truth?
Speck and Coll came around the side of the mansion, laughing about something. Coll’s hands were filled with fresh fruit.
“M’dagka!” Speck said -- or rather, tried to say. “You should have come with us inside. They have free food everywhere!”
M’dagka raised an eyebrow. “You took food from the place?”
“It was all right,” Coll said, a little breathlessly. “There was an Elf inside, and he told us to help ourselves. He even went into another room and brought back a tart for Speck. He was really nice.”
Speck waved her tart around -- a disgusting-looking confection of pastry, glazed fruit and sugar -- and giggled.
“And he flirted with Speck,” Coll said, starting to giggle himself. M’dagka hadn’t thought it possible for the man to look less intelligent, but the giggling did the trick nicely.
“He did not, you big oaf. He was just being nice.” But Speck blushed.
“He said she was pretty.”
“He was being nice,” Speck said. “I’m eye-level with his -- I mean...um, he’s way too tall for me.”
Coll munched happily on his taffelberries and Speck began nibbling at her tart, after offering it to M’dagka, who grimaced and shook her head. A moment later, she looked up and saw Ellian and Serdannio walking toward toward them across the lawn. The Elf lifted his head and caught sight of her watching him, and M’dagka quickly looked away. Handsome he was, no doubt about it, but she’d not be caught up in a dalliance with an Elf. She wasn’t that green.
“Ready to head off in search of adventure?” Ellian asked as he approached. “Ah, Speck, I see you’ve availed yourself of the Jadewater’s hospitality.”
“You should have told us they had such great food for free,” Speck said around a mouthful of tart. “This is leagues better than that horrid bun-thing I had back there.”
Coll offered his berries to Ellian, who refused, and Serdannio, who happily accepted after raising an eyebrow in M’dagka’s direction.
“The lady isn’t eating?” he asked.
“The ‘lady’ is in a hurry,” M’dagka said. “We’re ready, then, to walk out? This is lucky enough for you, Coll?”
“Yup, I guess we better go,” Coll said.
“It was nice meeting you all,” Speck said awkwardly. “Any last tips for us, Ellian?”
Ellian smiled thinly. “Not unless you’re planning to be a Bard.”
“They wouldn’t want me,” Speck grinned. “I sound like a crow when I sing. If you can call it singing.”
“We should plan to meet again,” Coll blurted out, then looked shyly around at the others.
“I mean,” he said hesitantly, “It’d be nice, wouldn’t it? To see how we’re all doing? Because none of us knows anyone here, except each other. Well, except Ellian.”
“I imagine we’ll all be busy getting on with our new lives, getting to know people in our respective Guilds,” Ellian said. “Though I’m sure it’s likely we’ll cross paths again.”
“Oh,” Coll said, trying not to sound disappointed.
“I think Coll’s right,” Speck said. “I think it would be fun.”
Serdannio shrugged. “I’m game if the rest of you are,” he said. “Say in two weeks? That ought to give us time to get settled in and all.”
“Sounds good,” Speck said. “Ellian, what’s a good tavern in town?”
“Hmm. Taelbert’s Inn has good food and an adequate bar. I used to pass a good bit of time there when I was a Bard.”
“Then we meet there, two weeks from today,” M’dagka said. “Say in evening time? And whichever of us has had the most luck, buys dinner for the rest, yes?”
"Then I’d better be on my way, if I’m to make my fortune in two weeks,” Serdannio said. He pushed open the gate and stepped out into the street. M’dagka watched the others pass through, then stepped out herself. The street was quiet this early in the morning. She caught the whiff of freshly-baked goods from a block or so away, though the smell of dust and pack animals was much stronger. Dusk had already passed when she’d arrived the night before; she hadn’t realized just how dirty the town was. A torn sack lay forlornly on the ground near the gate, and down the road she saw a pile of weeds and twigs scattered across the cobblestones, as if someone had simply emptied a wheelbarrow out in the middle of the street.
“Not the most glamourous of places,” Ellian said drily, catching sigh of M’dagka’s expression. “But it does grow on you after a bit.”
“I have no idea which way to go,” Speck declared, frowning.
“Well, that depends on which Guild you’re planning to join, doesn’t it?” Serdannio asked. “Though I notice we’ve all managed to avoid any answers to that. I’m beginning to suspect the lot of you are planning to become Thieves!”
“Maybe I just don’t think it’s any of your business,” Speck said tartly.
“Then I’ll have to guess, won’t I? Let’s see how good my powers of foreseeing are. I’d bet -- yes, I’d bet good money that you’re going to be one of those tree-hugging types, Speck.”
“Huh?”
“He means Rangers,” Ellian said. “Though I’m not sure why he thinks that...I’m sticking to my original impression of a future Thief.”
Speck glowered at him. “Fine...then I still think you’re going to be a Moon Mage.”
“Trader,” M’dagka said suddenly, wondering why she was joining in the silly game. But she’d wager a coin or two she was right. “He said he just wanted to settle down and work steady-like...it’s a Trader’s life he meant, I’ll be bound.”
“I’ll neither confirm nor deny any of the accusations leveled at me,” Ellian said, his tone lighter than it had been all morning.
“Well, Colly’s no mystery,” Serdannio said. “If he’s not headed straight for the Barbarian Guild then I’m the worst judge of character there ever was.”
Coll grinned, seeming to enjoy the attention directed toward him. “I’m not confirming or denying...um...what Ellian said. Maybe you’re right, and maybe not. And I know what Guild you’re joining, Serdannio.”
“Oh? You can read my mind?”
“Don’t need too...you’re too pretty to be anything but a Bard.”
“Ah!” Serdannio cried in mock dismay. “Undone by my wretched face! So much for an air of mystery. Though as it happens, Coll, you’re quite wrong.”
“I think Serdannio’s the Thief amongst us,” Speck said. “He’d be a splendid pickpocket -- what lady could get mad at a face like that?”
“Which leaves the lady,” Serdannio said, bowing slightly in M’dagka’s direction. “Beg pardon, Speck -- the other lady, I meant.”
“Rot,” Speck said cheerfully. “I’m not a lady at all.”
“I’ve seen evidence to the contrary,” Serdannio said, and ducked to avoid the last remnant of Speck’s tart as it came sailing directly toward his head.
“There’s a difference between a lady and a woman, you ill-mannered sod,” Speck said.
“Aha! I’ve been demoted -- no longer a ‘pretty face’, but an ill-mannered sod! Fickle, fickle woman. And I still cannot for the life of me make an intelligent guess as to which path M’dagka is going to take.”
“Mage,” Speck said decisively. “She looks like a mage.”
“I have fire spurting from my fingertips, do I?” M’dagka asked wryly.
“Mage, or possibly Cleric,” Ellian said. “You do have that light in your eyes, lass.”
“Light?” M’dagka asked, annoyed that he’d called her ‘lass’. “It’s being nonsense, this ‘light’. My eyes are normal as yours.”
“As you say,” Ellian said, shrugging.
“I’m going to shove off, I think,” Serdannio said. “Never get anything accomplished by chatting all day. As I’m finding it singularly hard to figure out a proper farewell, I’ll just say -- farewell! -- and see you in two weeks.”
He waved jauntily and set off down the street at a brisk pace. A brief, awkward moment ensued before Coll nodded, waved shyly, and headed off as well.
“Right, then,” M’dagka said. “In two weeks.”
“I’ll be buying!” Speck said confidently, and set out in the same direction as Coll.
“I guess it’s farewell, then,” Ellian said, smiling at M’dagka. She wished she could figure out exactly why the man unsettled her so. It was the eyes, mostly; the grey coolness of them that seemed to catch everything without ever once responding.
“We say ‘may your paths be few’, where I am from,” M’dagka said. “Or just -- few paths.”
“That seems a rather odd sort of farewell.”
“The fewer the paths, the less likelihood there be that you choose poorly.”
Ellian chuckled and stuck out his hand, startling M’dagka; the casual friendliness of the gesture didn’t quite fit.
“Few paths to you, then, lass,” he said, shaking her hand with a vigorousness that was at odds with his frail appearance. “And I hope you’ll have found the right one when we meet again.”
M’dagka watched the Elothean set off down the street. A few moments later, he turned a corner, and she was alone outside the gate. In the distance, a street peddlar began hawking his wares and, further off, a donkey set up a loud protest, followed quickly by the clatter of an overturned cart. The colorful curses of the donkey’s unlucky owner drowned out any other noise for several long minutes.
She stood silently, listening as the city awoke, her face turned toward the first feeble light of the day, thinking about paths and choices and fate. And envying, bitterly, those whose paths were few.