#eshana

Have yall heard of Double Edged (on Tapas) by Tocartss (on twitter)? It’s got some amazing characters and I’m super excited to see how the story progresses.

As her style is a huge inspiration for me, I tried my best to emulate it, but she is, quite honestly, inimitable.

Welcome dear reader, to the world of Crelohi.

My name is Lasselanta Nariel, I am a Chronicler for the illustrious Guild of Scribes. It is our job to chronicle all the events within our world’s history, be they the tales of kings and nations, or lives of the common people. Do not mistake us all for mere historians, however, many of us find ourselves patrons outside of the guild both to provide us with an income and to furnish us with information they might not otherwise have shared. After all, while all events are written not all are shared, and some may perhaps be told in a more generous light. We also make very efficient spies. Certain of my patrons have instructed me to follow the events surrounding the airship known as The Magpie, and her crew. A tale which I now share with you.

This is the story of how that crew met, and how that ship attained its name. Of how their varied lives became forever entwined as they stumbled upon a dangerous conspiracy so old it has shaped the very land upon which we stand. It takes place within the western half of the continent of Eshana. A region rife with ancient mysteries and new discoveries, of cutting edge technology and cutthroat mercenaries, of steam...and shadow.

Enjoy your stay, and please, do try not to get captured by pirates, run afoul of the River Lords, harass the Paswellan Navy, or invoke the ire of the Chapawee Nation. If you hear mention of the Circle of Crows know that you are dealing with Thieves Guild and watch your pockets, and if you should find a white owl feather amongst your things then know that the White Duke is watching you and you should be worried.

(All names on the map have been translated from our world to yours, with our Common tongue interpretation below translated into your world's English.)

Chapter 1

Jinghu, Hurenaki Dynasty.

(14, Fearn. Evening.)

A sprawling lakeside city nestled amidst tall jagged mountains and lush forests, its ornate tiled roofs and colorful lanterns twinkled like jewels day or night. Although, in the shadier parts of town they were more like colored glass sparkling with a false brightness as it fought to prove itself. A bedraggled figure hurried down the docks through sheets of rain into an area known locally as the fox’s den, though crow’s nest would’ve been more apt, towards a somewhat shabby building with a green tiled roof with a sign proclaiming it The Grumpy Panda Inn, at  least, she assumed the sign was still there, she could barely see the wooden planks below her through the rain. She found her way largely by memory until she could hear the laughter and shouting that seemed to pervade all alehouses after a certain hour. Reaching the door, at last, she threw it open to reveal an interior that was not much better kept than the outside but was at least drier. It also smelled better. The lake was freshwater, but still large enough to be a fishing port for the sprawling town. The scents of magnolia, fir, and cherry drifted through the crisp air and through the town but were overpowered here on the docks by the pungent aroma of fish, and the musty scent of old wood. The inn, however, was a mixture of ale, worn leather, and an assortment of fruity cocktails. Warm orange lights glowed faintly above worn wood and brass tables, the chairs were upholstered in a once vibrant gold design, now faded too much to recognize any real pattern, and there was a faint patina on the brass fixtures. An old server droid hummed quietly as it moved between tables, serving drinks to patrons. The building was even more crowded than usual, as no one wanted to be outside in this weather. Takara snorted slightly. She hadn’t either, but business was business.

Her eyes finally lighted on their quarry at a table near the back of the building; a well-dressed man with a light sand complexion lounging in his chair with a careless grace. Kicking the door shut she squelched forward, her eyes narrowing as she made her way towards his table. He was reading a letter, his chestnut hair falling across the slight frown on his usually smiling face. He glanced up as she stopped beside his chair, slamming a wet pouch on the table before him with a thunk and a faintly metallic jingle.

"Tigers." She growled, glaring at him.

"Evening, Kara. You look lovely as always." He grinned. Sharp green eyes took in her soaked and lightly mud-spattered appearance, a spark of amusement lighting them suddenly. "Please, sit down." He waved towards the seat across from him and signaled to the server droid.

"Tigers Brannaghan! You couldn't warn me the Empress has two tigers running loose on the grounds?!" Takara threw back her hood and dropped into the chair across from him with a distinct flop.

Brannaghan chuckled. His voice warm and rich, with a deep velvety lilt. "A hot Buttered Rum for my friend please." He glanced at Takara again. "Better make it a double. Put it on my tab."

"Yes, sir." The server spoke in its metallic, vaguely female voice. It hummed as it rolled towards the bar.

"That better not be coming out of my pay Brann. You owe me."

"For not telling you that our beloved empress keeps unusual pets? She doesn't exactly make a secret of it."

"No one said the blasted things ran loose! Look what they did to my clothes!" She held out an arm to show long claw marks running down the right side of her deep blue cape. The fabric was worn and faded from wear, but the dull gold braid at the shoulders was clearly Paswellan naval military. Which she was clearly not. "And she's not my Empress. Or yours for that matter." She scowled and tried to wring out some of the water from her attire. It didn't have much effect, beyond adding to the puddle forming around her chair.

"Proper respect for the authorities lass. We wouldn't want anyone to think us ungrateful squatters, now would we?" He studied her appearance again. Her black hair was plastered wetly across her brow, revealing the long scar by her right eye. She was tired and soaked, making her tanned skin seem paler than usual. It reminded him a bit of when they met, though she'd been somewhat drier that day. He doubted so much as an inch of her remained dry now. She was also glaring at him, but this was normal. He had that effect on her. "What happened? Did you fall in the lake?" He asked.

"No, I jumped," She replied, her voice low, and carefully even. "because it was either jump or be mauled by tigers."

Brannaghan raised his eyebrows "You jumped off of the spire?"

"Yes, and nearly lost my boat in this stupid rain. I had to swim in this Bran!" She growled, trying not to shout as she lost her temper again.

The server returned with two steaming mugs of buttery smelling liquid, allowing Brannaghan a moment to process this, while Takara attempted to inhale her drink.

"So, to be clear; you got the jewels, were chased by tigers, and then you decided the best course of escape was to jump off of the Jade Spire and swim for it. In the rain. That's nearly 60 meters! Flare for the dramatic much Kara?"

"It's just water." She shrugged.

"Spoken just like a p-"

"Don't say it!" She interrupted, her soft voice tight.

"You can't escape your past entirely, lass.” He said gently, “I should know."

"I can try." She grumbled bitterly, returning to her drink.

Brannaghan glanced briefly at the letter folded in his hand, before slipping it inside one of the many hidden pockets of his vest. "I have another job for you when you've finished  complaining."

"You know I’m never finished complaining." She quipped, "What is it?"

"I need you to retrieve a...parcel for me. Off of an airship docked in Hagsfjori."

“You don’t ask for much.” She said sarcastically. "Hagsfjori? That's part of the Arstiegian Empire, isn't it?  You’ve never sent me that far north before." She paused, eyeing him over  her drink "I didn't think our guild branch covered anything above the Seguegande."

"They don't. The Circle isn't a part of this...it's personal." For the first time since Takara met him, Brannaghan seemed unsure, almost worried.

Takara set down her drink, studying his face carefully. She knew that look. She'd seen it in the mirror before, years ago. A memory of smoke and fire drifted through her mind before she resolutely banished it. "This is about your past."

"They've a nasty way of resurfacing, it seems." His tone was light, but his expression remained serious.

She watched him for a moment, unconsciously tapping her fingers on the side of her mug. "You still owe me my coin."

He smiled and produced a second pouch from the folds of his clothing, sliding it slowly across the table.

She put it away without counting its contents, her eyes still locked onto his face. She’d known Brannaghan for years, had run dozens of missions for him, always guild backed, always professional. He rarely asked for favors, and though he’d never call her on it, she owed him a considerable debt. A resigned feeling of acceptance came over her. She sighed, tossing back the rest of her drink. "Fine. But there had better not be any tigers this time."

Brannaghan grinned. “No tigers.”

Eshana: Lipstick. Beautiful dresses. Powerful. Bron leader. Owning an old car and driving with it through nature. Road trips. CD collections. Caring. Lovely. Feeling the wind in your hair and sand under your feet. Painting. Picking flowers. Wine. Smiling. Using many emojis in text messages. Sweet post-it everywhere. Writing on a mirror with red lipstick.

Usually, when someone travels as much as Aisha does, or lives the way she does, ends up stumbling into a lot of unusual places and people – and the odd would dictate that at least half of these situations would be, for some reason, unpleasant, what can only mean past or fire – which is almost the same thing – for the young waterbender. For this one in question, it doesn’t happen.

If someone would ask why this happens especially with her, the girl would shrug and say it’s fate, and she can’t explain, but on reality it’s pretty easy: she avoids the past and fire, at all costs. There is, basically, no way she will run into things like this. She wants to forget—she has forgotten and there’s no way she’s going back.

––Unless has curiosity has created sparkles. When these are on, what could she do? Aisha tries her best to let it go on, but having feeling the fire burning too many times has taught her a lesson. And on the moment she set her eyes on Royal Electric’s bright red sign, she knew it would burn in any way, if she didn’t threw water at it.

Obviously, not literally. She wasn’t crazy enough to risk getting caught just to try flooding a place that held nothing special but an extravagant owner and Fire Nation signs way too obvious for her liking—which just got worse when she pushed the door open and stepped in the store to be greet with – surprise, surprise! – red interior.