How soon is now?

Her thick brows furrowed curiously at his wording and implied past experiences, and her lips parted with the intent to ask what he meant … Was he as trapped as she was by the cords of fate … ? Briseis’s thoughts were cut short, however, and she anxiously agreed.

“Please—though, if I ever need to return, perhaps you could guide me?” she wondered aloud, stepping to walk alongside him. She bit her lip and considered how to answer his query. “Actually, the answer to both is that …” she lowered her voice cautiously, “I’m looking for a way to break a certain curse. I thought if I went where the magic was, maybe I’d have a chance.” She shrugged her shoulders with a small, self effacing grin. “It seems it may not have been the best decision, but …” she trailed off noncommittally.

“A certain curse?” Reilly glanced back at the woman, surprised, his brows furrowing slightly. “…I would think,” he said after a long moment’s silence, “that, si, you came to the right place after all. I know a few sorcerers,” he added, turning away to steer them more effectively past stalls of steamed buns and gilded cages. “Perhaps I will probe the community for answers for you. I imagine a curse is, ah…” His hand waved, half in blessing toward off the Evil Eye, half in dismissal. “Not exactly ‘fun times’, non…?”

As they filtered by the stalls, green eyes followed them–but the Goblin King, having overheard their little conversation, knew he could always approach the lady later. He had time. The question really was whether or not she did.

No matter how non-linear Reilly’s experience of time, something told the ancient woman that establishments like these operated much the same in any era. It recalled a bustling bazaar that only seemed to change by the minute details of dress and speech and available goods. Briseis could lose herself in one of the more timeless sections and forget when she was. One would think that with her familiarity with the concept, she would be more at ease with the market she’d stumbled into, but knowing that powers far more deadly than pickpockets and cutthroats lurked in these stalls—not to mention the magic displayed front and center for all to see—was enough to disorient her. If Reilly knew how to navigate the supernatural marketplace, surely that was all the help she needed. 

“That is very good to hear,” Damla affirmed, concentrating on keeping up with his longer strides and fluid directions. “I—I came to the Isle with someone else to guide and protect me, but I don’t think he’s as versed in magic as he is in … adventures and treasures,” she explained, hastily adding in Zafer’s defense, “but he means well, and I’m thankful.” 

“He sounds like a sound investment, all things considered,” Reilly reassured Briseis with a fond smile. “Better to have some ready to tackle the physical whilst you observe the metaphysical, non?” His scruffy face warmed in a refreshed grin as he turned to keep up with the path--swearing that if he took his eyes off that for a second, it would change. Perhaps it sensed his reluctance to leave, but making sure Damla found sanctuaysomewhere less precarious took importance over his own entertainment. He had to wonder where her so-called guardian and guide was tonight, however. Ah, well. Hardly his business.

“...if all else fails,” Reilly commented quietly. “There are always the gods.” She might’ve thought he was kidding, were it not for the dead serious expression the typically-jovial time traveler adopted. “Some of which are here on htis very Isle.” He shrugged, and that particular spell was broken. “There are a lot of options. I’ll pass word around the more trustworthy circles!” And some more questionable. One more questionable, but...Reilly didn’t add that.

“Probably somewhere not this,” Reilly suggested kindly, eyes smiling. “There are safer festivities due in the near future. A boardwalk festival, for instance, is upon us soon. And it involves far less potential for being whisked off into the ether, si?” His smile twitched at the corners; dimpling, and he shook his head a little. “I myself have fallen prey to places like this many a time–boundless curiosity, a snare in itself that I keep trying to see whether or not I can escape. The Hanged Man,” he added distractedly, his mind flickering back to–tarot. And other matters. Reilly subtly shook his head, then chuckled.

“Please—though, if I ever need to return, perhaps you could guide me?” she wondered aloud, stepping to walk alongside him. She bit her lip and considered how to answer his query. “Actually, the answer to both is that …” she lowered her voice cautiously, “I’m looking for a way to break a certain curse. I thought if I went where the magic was, maybe I’d have a chance.” She shrugged her shoulders with a small, self effacing grin. “It seems it may not have been the best decision, but …” she trailed off noncommittally. 

“A certain curse?” Reilly glanced back at the woman, surprised, his brows furrowing slightly. “...I would think,” he said after a long moment’s silence, “that, si, you came to the right place after all. I know a few sorcerers,” he added, turning away to steer them more effectively past stalls of steamed buns and gilded cages. “Perhaps I will probe the community for answers for you. I imagine a curse is, ah...” His hand waved, half in blessing toward off the Evil Eye, half in dismissal. “Not exactly ‘fun times’, non...?”