#papashan

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Flagrant orange streaked in vibrant color through the faded blue and the darkening edges of the sky. It was quite close to dusk, and a pall of dust hung thick in the air from the long and hot day, although the encroaching night already held a silent promise to bring relief from the oppressive heat. The wind bore a pleasant chill and smelled sharp and fresh if somewhat earthy. Despite her fatigue from the day’s work, Aurelia could not help but walk with a certain spring in her step.

It did not take long to catch sight of what must have been the dispatch yard: the detritus of mass-scale industry had a distinctive appearance to it that was impossible (to Garlean eyes at least) to mistake for aught else. She thought, unbidden, of the old train graveyard that had been a visible landmark from the commuter railway which ran between a large outlying tradesman’s town and the capital’s administrative wards. Once upon a time it had been necessary to pass through that yard on a connector shuttle from the senate building, in order to board the only train that led northward, out of the city. 

Of course, this relatively modest platform was nothing on that scale - there was no magitek in sight, not that she would have expected to find such things in Eorzea - but the empty boxcars and piles of fresh-cut lumber and the long steel lengths of track were all the confirmation she needed. 

Except there was no indication that it was in use; no laborers were anywhere in sight. Perhaps it was the end of their workday, but she would have assumed at least a small crew would still be present, wrapping up a final task here and there before taking their leave. Her footfalls slowed, then paused as she scanned the area with a thoughtful frown, until she caught movement from the corner of her eye. A small figure was waving her over.

“A mighty fine evening to you, miss!” it called. 

The bright, rasping voice was easy and friendly, and the initial moment of tension she’d felt at the sound of another person faded. Upon closer inspection she was directed to its source: an elderly Lalafellin man in khaki coveralls and a plain linen tunic with its long sleeves rolled up to the elbows. She raised a hand in a greeting of her own, offering a small smile as she did so.

The moment she had closed the distance between them, the little man’s hand dropped, and his arms folded across his chest as he stared up at her. “Mm. Adventurer, by the look of you. How warm am I?”

“Fairly,” she admitted. 

“Good enough for me. You wouldn’t happen to be one of Mistress Momodi’s younglings by any chance, would you?”

“She said I was to meet someone here,” she watched his shoulders drop, in much the same relieved fashion as Momodi had done when she had accepted the task. “My name is Aurelia, and I assume you are the someone in question, Ser…?”

“No ‘master’ or ‘ser’ necessary, lass. You can call me Papashan.” 

“Well met, M– Papashan,” she caught herself. “Are you the stationmaster?”

“Aye, that I am. But only in name, I assure you– just a tired old man attempting to live out my retirement in peace. Not that we’ve had much of that in the last five years.” The roadmap of wrinkles around his mouth stretched with his smile, as did the crows’ feet at the corners of his eyes, but it seemed strangely subdued. “Anyroad, if Momodi vouches for you then that’s plenty good enough for me. I’ve got my hands full just now and I could use some help. How familiar are you with the terrain outside the city gates?”

“Not… as much as I should like,” she confessed. “I’ve not been in the city overlong and none of my work has yet given cause for travel. But I’ve a good memory for directions and I don’t get lost very easily. Why? Am I here to search for someone? Something?”

Something furtive flickered across the old man’s face that was gone almost as soon as she noticed it.

“Well,” he said at length, hooking his thumbs in the empty belt loops of his coveralls, “might be as simple as you say. You’ve got a sharp eye, I hope? Good perception? Short of night vision, that’s what I’ll need out here.”

Somehow, Aurelia managed to keep a straight face. 

“You can count on me,” she said. “Where should I start?”

“With this.” 

He reached into the satchel slung over his shoulders and, nodding to himself with evident satisfaction, presented its contents to her as though he were handing over a bag full of precious stones. The stare she gave him was blank and uncomprehending.