Blood of the Sea, Chapter Fourty-One

Chapter 41: Dyspepsia

Vance

Walking the streets of Seyune, all Vance can think about is the way the city sparkled after the rain. It wasn’t even that much rain - a passing cloud that let go a little too soon - but it was enough to imprint the memory in his thoughts; the smell of the freshly washed ground haunted him in his sleep - as did memories of controlling the waves back home.

Back home, rain was refreshing, revitalizing. Everyone played in the rain; perhaps it was because those of them who were E’len were already soaked through half the time. Either way, rain was nourishing to his people. A reminder that things must grow, and life must go on. It was like a fresh slate. A new wave to catch. A new boat to sail.

But here, in Seyune, it was a reminder of all the things he was missing. He didn’t have his friends here, his family - but he continued to hope that he would have his power. Power was what drove this place, and therefore, it was what should drive him. He had power. He was recognized by the queen herself as someone with ability. He just had to show them. Show those who would pass over him in favor of the five.

The streets are white-washed, the stone glistening in the sunlight as the rays catch on windows and marble alike. At times, the windows reflect back at Vance like opaque rainbows, while at others, they almost fool him with their translucent nature, until, that is, they reflect the image of the woman in red at his side.

Always at his side.

He should be flattered, he reminds himself, catching the reflection of him and her walking down the street in a passing window. After all, I’m the one at her side. I’m the one living in the castle.

In the days-turned-weeks he has spent here, his wardrobe has become more blue-coded. Waves are embroidered into his sleeves, and the fabric shifts with him, creating an illusion of movement as he breathes. Silks are woven in with the cotton fabric. Differing hues to suggest water, rivers, rain. Every day, he appears more elegant. More like he belongs.

The contrast, he admits to himself, is quite pretty. Blue against red, red against blue. Blood and water. “They go together,” Veyda had told him. “We go together.” Little though he admitted it to himself, the way she looked at him when she said that stayed with him long past when the feel of her hand smoothing over the fabric on his chest had faded. Long past the way she laughed while they were eating together. The way her eyes sparkle like polished gems.

He didn’t think of Raelyn much anymore.

On this particular day, as they walk through the streets, Aella - the air mage and newly appointed messenger of the Red Queen - comes running from one of the side streets, face flushed, head on a swivel before she finds Vance watching her. She stops short in the shadow of one of the buildings and straightens her robe, checking her hair before striding toward Veyda.

“My Queen, I have news.”

“News? Speak of it, then,” Veyda encourages, slowing her pace for the poor girl to walk with her sovereign.

Aella falls in line just behind Veyda, on the opposite shoulder as Vance. “There are… more of the strangers. That is, a few have come back.”

“Strangers?” Veyda stops walking, turning to the messenger, “Who?”

Aella shoots Vance a look between frustration and disgust, “His people. They claim to be his friends.”

Veyda offers Vance a soft smile, the suggestion of amusement barely hinted at in the not-quite-there crease by her eyes. “Your friends, water caller. Shall we go see them?”

He nods, bewildered, but the queen is already making her way toward the northern gate, her gown fluttering behind her like a wave of red - one he is careful not to get caught up in as he jogs lightly after her retreating form.

Veyda

Her thoughts spun ahead of her. Did the silver-haired leader come back? Is that who she is going to greet? But Aella said they were Vance’s friends. The leader didn’t seem to offer the water caller any sort of favor. No, she tells herself, slowing her pace, not the leaders then. But who…? She can feel a frown beginning to form, her mouth turning downward, and she forces her face to relax and put on a smooth facade. Turning the last corner, the northern gate comes into view, as well as an earthen mage and a mind mage as they flank three soldiers. Veyda can’t help but sigh, straightening her spine just that much more as she paints a smile on her face. “Welcome to Seyune. I heard you are friends of Vance.”

The three soldiers all press a fist to their breast, bowing their heads briefly. Their appearances are that of sailors - leather armor worn and weathered, but the weapons at their sides remind Veyda of her vision of an army. Sure, they might not have magic, but they’ve been trained their whole lives, according to Vance’s accounts of his home.

“What news have you brought to us?” Veyda asks, her tone polite and sunny.

The one in the middle glances from her to Vance at her side, his brows furrow, “You look… different.”

Vance shrugs, “This is the way of the Mages here.”

“And you already count yourself among them?” One of the other soldiers asks.

Veyda shoots Vance a sideways glance, but he simply nods, holding firm. “I am a Mage according to definition here. It’s time that was recognized.”

His friends share a glance among themselves, but the middle one steps forward, understanding lighting his eyes. “I’m glad you’ve found a home, Vance. That is… what we’ve come about.” He clears his throat, eyeing Veyda nervously. “The five have started building along the coastline. They’re thinking of staying.”

Veyda’s magic twitches and ripples along her arms. In her peripheral, she can see wispy red ribbons flowing around her as her temper flares. “They do not want to be guests in our city? They turn down my hospitality?” She turns to Vance, “Do your people truly prefer the company of trees to that of civility?”

Vance bows his head, “They don’t know what they are missing out on.”

Veyda glares at the soldiers. “What city has harbored them? Do they count any among their friends?”

Vance stiffens beside her, answering before those he considers friends, “The port city; the big one along the northern coast. That’s where we made landfall.”

“Kildangan.” Veyda pictures the city in her mind’s eye; a bustling city-port for sure. They haven’t been fond of the rule of Mages, but they haven’t caused problems until now, so she had been willing to turn a blind eye. Her magic squirms, the blood hunger filling her nose with the sweet scent; the metallic tang sits upon her tongue. “Very well. Vance, darling,” she places a hand on his shoulder, seeing curiosity in his gaze. No fear, no qualms. Very good. “I have a job for you.”

“Anything, my Queen.”

Veyda practically purrs, her smile blinding, “How would you feel about letting your magic out to play?”