Elona Bound: Part 5
----- Services Rendered -----
The Elonian made her appearance after getting dressed, still in her dress from the previous night. So lost in thought was she, that Demitra neglected to notice the emerald jewel from her naval piercing lie on the cabin floor. She made her way to the upper deck, eyes vigilant for Xavier. She had no idea what would be said if she did run into him. Was their night simply a business transaction or was it more? Fortunately, the encounter didn't happen and Demitra was relieved as she exited the interior of the ship.
The sun shone brightly over the waters of Lion's Arch. Demitra leaned over the railing, taking it all in. The lovely water rippled, seagulls overhead chirped and bathed on the small beachfront below, and a large lighthouse slumbered off the ship's bow, so quiet compared to the previous night.
A few crewmen within earshot could be heard. Their snickers and jests most gossip about the woman's stay-over and the captain's latest conquest. Demitra tried her best to ignore them, yet there demeaning feelings were palpable, and she grew angry at their lambasting. She spun on her heel, ready to unleash on the unscrupulous vermin, but in so doing, she noticed a newcomer aboard.
The woman's hair was like the caps of mountains from the highlands: completely snow, with a bit of ash. Her skin was a shade of bronze, a bit darker than Demitra's own amber skin. She wore a simple bodice and skirt, as though she was dressed for comfort; yet, she kept her armaments fastened and at the ready. She was a pleasantly attractive, well-endowed woman and Demitra smiled, both at the woman's features and at the distraction she offered.
Demitra approached the woman, still trying to remember if she had seen her before: she seemed familiar somehow. She thought it best not to lead with this and decided on a direct approach. The woman had a large chest in tow, to which Demitra gestured with a smile from her ruby red lips. "Would you like assistance with that?"
The white-haired woman was looking past Demitra at the snickering men. She seemed to be irritated at their demeanor, perhaps assuming the insults were directed at her. The woman's head literally seeped out a small amount of smoke. She shook her head at Demitra, not yet looking directly at her. "I got it," she said irritably. "Do you know where I am going?"
The Elonian tilted her head to one side. She attempted not to look at the fumes, instead focusing on the woman's question, to which she struggled to understand. "Do you not know where you are going?" she asked and paused for a moment adding, "This vessel is Elona-bound." As she uttered the words, she recognized the woman from the Elona-bound ball she'd held only a few nights prior. "Oh! You are with DragonsBane, yes?"
The woman glowered a bit. "I meant with the box; but yeah... I'm with DragonsBane," she paused a moment considering. "Sorta."
The woman hoisted the chest on her shoulder and huffed. "I got it!" she exclaimed, adding in a purposefully lighter tone, "But thanks..." The woman was not used to attempting this level of pleasantries and clearly struggled doing so.
"Understood," Demitra smiled warmly. While not understanding the white-haired woman's reluctance, she simply thought it was some type of custom unfamiliar to her. Perhaps others in Tyria do not ask for help? "This way then," she said as she continued toward the entrance to the lower decks.
As they entered the control room, Demitra inadvertently slowed her progression as she passed Xavier. They spoke no words, but the tension in the air could be felt by everyone present.
Arriving at the cabin, Demitra opened the hatch, gesturing inside. "It may not look like much, granted, but it is large enough, I believe, to contain us all and be rather comfortable on the voyage."
The white-haired woman stepped into the room, dropping her chest with a loud thud. She only briefly glanced around at the accommodations before nonchalantly shrugging. "As long as we get there, aye?"
Demitra couldn't help but smile at the woman's forthrightness and candor. "I suppose that is one way to assess the situation, sure." She nodded.
The woman rubbed the back of her neck. "So... uh, where in Elona are we going?" she attempted small-talk.
"We shall arrive at Amnoon; from there, I shall lead - whomever wishes to venture there - to an outpost thought of as a staging ground to which all are welcomed to stay."
"And who are you?"
Demitra chose to take this as an opportunity for greetings, and not as an insult it may have intended to be. "I must apologize: I recognized you from the ball, but I can not seem to place your face with a name."
"I'm Ember..." she paused, obviously having difficulty, but continued awkwardly nodding, "Drakenfist."
After a formal bow, Demitra also introduced herself, this time using her full name, somewhat pleased someone in this foreign land used the entirety of their name. In the time she'd been here, she had conformed to this culture, but had difficulty in doing so. When Vabbians greeted each other, they did so with their entire names, often settling on referring to each other by their surnames. Here, in this land, everyone, it seemed to Demitra, was on a first-name basis.
Ember gave an awkward half-bow, mimicking the Elonian's, in an attempt to be cordial. "I... Yeah, I remember."
"Apologies, there was much to do that eve; I felt as though I was being judged on my speech and the venue. I really had difficulty remembering all the details from the new people I met there, and there was quite a bit of drink by the end of the night," Demitra said sheepishly.
Ember flushed a bit. "I... Yeah, I totally understand."
The two women stood a few minutes, awkwardly looking each other over. Demitra found her eyes wandering at the woman's ashes and slight hue change, but quickly caught herself and corrected it, while Ember blinked a few times, her red eyes hurriedly glancing at the Elonian a few times.
Demitra fell back on logic and facts to progress through the silence. "We shall be traveling to Elona. There are forces at work there which subjugate those unable to protect themselves."
"You mean Balthazar or the Dragon?" Ember considered.
"Some go to Elona after the god himself; others for the winged crystal beast. These are all worthy goals, to be sure. I believe my destiny in this belongs to the path leading to the self-proclaimed god-king Palawa Joko." Demitra's face grew stern as she continued. "Joko is a tyrant, a lich believing himself to be that of godhood. He enslaves my people as his awakened army... And while some have been brainwashed to believe it is there puprose to evenutally serve the scourge of the desert, some of us oppose him and all he stands for."
Ember blinked a few times, then shrugged as a bit of ash fell from her chalk hair. "Oh, undead? Easy. I'll make a stop on the way to Balthazar!" she said matter-of-factly.
Demitra's fists clenched and she drew in a deep breath. This was not the moment for speeches and this woman who nonchalantly shrugged off the entirety of Joko's army did not know that which she spoke, she reminded herself. After a few moments, Demitra let out a breath.
Seeing the woman's reaction made Ember surprisingly take a role she'd not been used to taking: cheering someone up. She awkwardly smiled. "Hey, I know this is tough for you. We will get ya through it though! I don't know about the others, but things like undead? Not new. Plus, if these beings are why mother fled, I owe it to her, ya know?" Ember smiled, this time less awkwardly and genuine. She then rose a hand, which promptly caught fire. "Scourge or not, everything burns."
Demitra stared at the flame for a moment, before registering the woman's comment. "Your mother... is from Elona?" she asked.
Ember only offered a small nod.
No stranger to difficulties speaking about one's past, Demitra compassionately smiled. "Let us get some air, yeah?"
Once above deck, the two women found a spot away from the hustle of the crew. Again the waters below the ship attracted Demitra, followed by the distant buildings of Lion's Arch and she took in a deep breath. "This city is quiet lovely. Albeit, a bit on the cheche with the nautical sea theme; lovely nonetheless."
Ember frowned as she skeptically inspected the buildings. "Never been a fan of it."
"The water does take a bit of getting used to, I suppose. At least for one not exactly attuned to water," she prophetically said with a slight giggle.
Ember simply nodded, said nothing about the woman's insightful jest. She decided to change the subject: four times since she started noting it, Demitra had glanced around the ship, inspecting crew, obviously searching. "Expecting someone?" she asked, leaning against the rails, watching the woman. Her red eyes almost seemed to glow in the darkness.
"Um... No."
Ember humphed, then said casually, "You know, people and drakes aren't that different."
Demitra raised an eyebrow, her own eyes reflecting Ember's. "How is that?"
"You see, I know them much better than people. If you had a tail, it would be near motionless, I suspect."
The Elonian giggled at the prospect of a tail. "Which would mean?"
Ember tilted her head, came to stand closely to Demitra. "You are nervous. Perhaps, you are concentrating on if certain people are around? Scarra would do that when drakes she fancied were around."
"Scarra?"
"She's my partner: a salamander drake!" she exclaimed with an excitement not yet witnessed by Demitra.
Demitra stared at the woman for a few moments, then let out a sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "And in this, I am a motionless tailed drake?"
Ember nodded. "I'd like to think you are a... reef drake!"
"A... reef drake?" Demitra tasted the comparison. Satisfied, she nodded, then looked to the shore below. "Yes, well, I suppose if a reef drake seemingly always stands alone, then maybe this would be fitting."
"You are solitary? Drakes are normally familial-based."
Demitra sighed. "Then the comparison is flawed."
Ember probed further. "But you've seemed very social since I met you."
"Social, yes. Destined, it would seem, despite being social, to be alone." Demitra faded off for a long moment, finally exhaling a deep breath. "Such transitory things, it seems: relationships," she said somberly.
Ember injected, "Were you dumped?"
"Dumped? I was dumped here via an invasion force's portal," she stated, failing to see the relevance.
"It's... It's a slang term, I guess," Ember offered. "It means when a mate leaves you."
Demitra suddenly burst into laughter. "When a mate leaves..." she tried to catch her breath. "Yes. Of this I know much of. I am dumped!"
Satisfied, Ember nodded sagely. "I know it! See? Humans aren't as complicated as the others implied!"
As if to answer their conversation, Captain Xavier surfaced from the control room. He began speaking to some of the crew and continued making preparations. Demitra attempted to avert her eyes, but they lingered a moment longer than she wanted - to which Ember immediately picked up on.
"If you want, no one will find him." she whispered.
Demitra looked for a moment appallingly at Ember, then decided it was a joke to laugh off. "I knew such a thing was only temporary: payment for services rendered."
Ember pouted. "Yeah, nobody ever lets me burn anything."
Demitra focused back to Ember. "Oh, Ember Drakenfist, you shall. Of that, you shall!" Minions in Elona do burn, indeed. The question is: how hot can you burn?"
"Is that an actual question, or metaphorical?" Ember grinned.
The grin was reflected back. "Metaphorical now; practical once we arive at our destination. You shall definitely enjoy the perils of the desert for the foes are many, and in the scarcity of the dunes, there are less innocent to worry about when vanquishing foes. You can burn as hot and brightly as you wish."
"Innocence is a lie," Ember retorted.
Demitra regarded the woman, her rage and anger almost engulfing. "Perhaps, in your... experience? This conclusion was forced upon you. I believe there are those that are innocent. My hope is for you to see the innocence yourself, and rise to become a protector for those who cannot protect themselves."
Ember stared at the woman, her passion and exuberance almost intoxicating. "What makes you so sure?" she asked skeptically.
"I must believe this..." Demitra could say no more, a lump in her throat forming as her thoughts drifted to Valandra, and that fateful night...
To Be Continued...
