Seven
Yhip Valley ticked allthe right boxes for both Braiden and Augustin’s needs, a fine place to start investigating the possibility of both othergoats and elementals. The overlap felt so satisfying, heartening Braiden to think that their interests could intersect so neatly like this.
Even better that the valley really wasn’t all that far from Weathervale. A few days’ travel, for certain, not so far off that they couldn’t rush home in case of an emergency, but still far enough away to feel like a proper vacation.
That it was a fun name to say out loud was a shallow but certainly very valid addition to its appeal. Ee-hip, the way most peoples of Aidun would pronounce the name of Ybura, the star goddess.
“It’s where the valley got its name,” Augustin explained as they returned the maps and books to their shelves. “Legend tells that the goddess Ybura saw the ground shaking from her home in the heavens, back in the early days of Aidun. She thought that Aidun was trembling because it was itching, with no way to scratch. So she reached down to help, tracing a single finger in the earth. That was all it took to carve out Yhip Valley.”
Braiden nodded, appreciating the mythology and the fable, knowing he would never have awful things to say about the goddess. If the tales were true, it was Ybura herself — known to the burrowfolk as Nibura — who had blessed them with the bounty of moongrass.
Finished with their research, wizard and weaver took their time ambling about town, now that their mission had been accomplished. The sleepy old librarian had politely ushered them out, the lights thrown on the cobblestones through the windows gradually dimming as he blew out each of the candles.
“I’ll have to pay Arlo the cobbler a visit in the morning,” Augustin said. “Just to make sure that my boots are in order.”
Braiden chuckled. “I always meant to ask. Are they enchanted, somehow? Do they help you move faster, or more nimbly?”
Augustin snorted. “Of course not. I have my wind magic to help with that. It’s just very important for a wizard to have his boots properly inspected before every expedition. Keeps the arcane energies grounded. Keep up, Braiden, you should know this already.”
Braiden shoved the wizard in the shoulder with a grumble. Augustin laughed as he teetered off balance, grabbing at Braiden’s hand for support.
“Since you’ll be in the Noose, anyway, maybe you can exchange that tent you bought for our trip down the dungeon for something a little more sensible.”
Augustin pouted. “I happen to like the tent I already have. What’s wrong with electric blue?”
“What’s wrong is that it’ll clearly mark us out in the open, now that we’ll actually be camping out in the wilderness. Do you want to wake up to find an air elemental nibbling on your nether regions?”
“Air elementals would never,” Augustin scoffed. “But I suppose I see your point.”
It had been easier down in the dungeon when they had access to Elyssandra’s cottage hairpin, but they couldn’t very well uproot her home just for the convenience of having shelter out on the road. The tent was brand new and completely unused, anyway.
If the original supply shop wouldn’t take it, most any other establishment at the Noose might accept it for a swap of equivalent value. Pretty much every shop on that stretch of road catered to adventurers of all stripes, and Augustin had the bonus prestige of being the Wizard of Weathervale on his side.
They found the softly glowing lanterns of the night market in good time, great garlands of them hanging over the long street that hosted food stalls from every corner of Aidun. It was hard to miss the brightly colored globes that festooned the market from far away, but even harder to miss the gorgeous aromas of freshly cooking food wafting from the stalls.
Braiden pulled Augustin toward one of his favorite spots, Izzy’s seafood skewer stall. Izzy’s face glowed red by the light of her grill’s blazing coals, her cheeks like apples as she smiled at the sight of Braiden drawing near.
“Braiden! It’s been a while. And is that the Wizard of Weathervale? Ho, big spender. Are either of you handsome gents interested in some of my tasty balls?”
Augustin’s eyes widened. Braiden choked.
“Not tonight, Izzy, but we’ll take a couple of seared tuna steaks. And you know what? Throw in some shrimp fritters, too.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart. And you, wizard. Don’t tell me you’ve never put my balls in your mouth! I’ll throw in a couple of chicken-ball skewers, on the house.”
Augustin stopped sweating and blushing so much after Braiden quietly explained Izzy’s culinary specialty. It surprised Braiden somewhat to learn that the wizard had never actually partaken of Izzy’s goods, having spent a good bit of time browsing the night market for research. Maybe he didn’t go for balls very much, or maybe he just wasn’t a very big fan of seafood.
He could have fooled Braiden easily, too, based on how quickly Augustin wolfed down his portion of tuna steak. Seared and lightly charred on the outside, tender and barely red-raw on the inside, Braiden always found himself coming back for the dish’s juicy, salty-sweet simplicity.
Working his way through his chicken-ball skewer, Braiden realized that this was the closest the two of them had come to going on a date. They simply hadn’t had the time to enjoy each other’s company this way, between the adventure in the dungeon and the pressure of setting up shop for Beadle’s Needles much-needed relaunch.
It felt like a prelude, even, this simple seafood dinner, building up to the bigger journey to come. Almost romantic, too, if Braiden didn’t know that their trip would involve battling air elementals, perhaps othergoats, too, if they somehow ended up offending the noble beasts.
It was odd to think of adventuring as anything romantic, but what part of any of this was normal? Maybe that was what Braiden appreciated the most, how this all felt so arcane and exotic and strange. His time with Augustin was magical, plain and simple.
But that didn’t mean that Braiden wouldn’t milk the very most out of even their most mundane moments. Walking hand in hand through the streets of Weathervale, from the brightness and buzzing of the night market to the quieter lanes leadinghome to the shop — this was more than Braiden could have ever hoped for. Life was good. Life was grand.
A pair of familiar figures lingered outside Beadle’s Needles as they approached. Three, if you counted Elyssandra still bustling around inside the shop, arranging and rearranging wares on the shelves. Craghammer must have gone home for the evening, which left Warren standing there in his helmet and Bones in his beloved hoodie. Braiden would have to get used to calling it that. He had to admit, it was a pretty catchy name.
