Off Day: Noon (3)
There was a soft patter of clogs on steel as she made her way out of Vesper Bay. It was thankfully empty, unlike the crowded docks she had found herself in not minutes ago. The weight of the crate was a discomfort, but she had resolved to do at least one productive thing today. True, she could have sat on the lap of luxury - for things like wagons were luxuries - and travelled to Ulādah, securing another route into the Goblet but this was more fun. More exciting.
Suna looked up at the sky as she exited the first tunnel with a smile. This was a good idea, she reaffirmed. Had she had the limbs for it she would have definitely given herself a pat on the back.
She always wondered about the ruins on the road from the Bay to Horizon. Large statues fallen, crumbling atop a very shallow lake with usually docile creatures surrounding them. Old Belahādian statues, Ruby had told her once. She wondered if they had spearmaidens. The people of Ulādah didnāt much care for them, she thought. So maybe not.
Walking past the first fork, she saw another ruined statue, this time of a robed man partially submerged in the muck. She turned away from it almost immediately. It unnerved her, if she were honest. For someone who had fought multitudes of enemies both humanoid and otherwise Suna couldnāt bear the look of one lifeless statue. She didnāt know why, and she really didnāt want to. The face seemed stern, as if nothing could ever please it, not even death. She walked on, crossing into the tunnel to Horizon.
Again the patter of wooden clogs on metal rails echoed around the chamber. There were others here, none she knew. Slowly she recovered from the incident with the statue and watched as the aetheryte grew larger in her view. Halfway there, she thought.
There was little to do in Horizon. Certainly everyone seemed to know it. It was a rest stop, a halfway point between Ulādah and Limsa Lominsa. Some stayed for a time, resting, recuperating from the heat of the desert sun, while others moved on without much notice. Suna was one of them.
Through the hubbub of the gates she entered the wilderness of Thanalan. A lot more tame, people would say, compared to the Southern reaches of the Sultanate, especially past Little Ala Mhigo and into the wild lands of the Amalājaa and the Sagolii. But like everything about Thanalan, tt was deceptively unforgiving and very, very hot.
The mountains of Othard where Suna was born, in the craggy blue-grey peaks capped with eternal ice and snow did not account for one of their own visiting the Merchantsā domain where fire blazed openly, hungrily gnawing away at strength. Beads of sweat had long formed on her brow, her back matted as her body attempted to cool off in the noon. It was failing, of course, but Suna was nothing if not determined. There was a good five malms between her and the entrance to the Goblet. She would find her way.
The blazing sun provided an exceptional backdrop to the harsh beauty of the land. Scorpions - the small kind, not the big diremites that Suna disliked - could be seen skittering about. A tumbleweed, she noted. Two tumbleweeds! Already, she thought, the day was eventful. Two tumbleweeds. Wasnāt that astonishing.
She walked on, close to the bridge that gapped Nophicaās Wells, the main source of water for the Sultanate in this area. They guarded the area well, for water in the desert was more precious than all the gil in the Monetaristsā cumulative pockets. She would be glad to have the Blades around, less about the need to protect herself and more of the struggle of having to put down the crate and lift it again. She was used to it by now, it had settled into a dull ache that she could survive with for last few malms.
Alas, such things were not to be. She heard it immediately, the low growl of a jackal in hunt. She froze for a moment and looked around. There. She thought. It was ready to pounce on her. She could make it in time, she judged, if she dropped the crate now. Oh very well.Ā She thought to herself, her body tensing, preparing for the inevitable battle.
āTHERE! OVER THERE!ā a horde of adventurers rushed towards the brush, the Jackal didnāt even know what it hit. Suna remembered seeing a ball of fire, three arrows, and two spears shoot at it. It was dead before it could even realise what was going on.
They group pushed past each other to search the corpse.Ā āIs there anything there?ā one of them said, a Roegadyn peering above a gaggle of Lalafell, two Miqoāte and an Elezen archer who had somehow managed to trip and fall face first into the smaller creatures.Ā āThere are three!ā one of the Miqoāte said excitedly and their wrists started glowing. Suna watched, transfixed at this. Magic? Was it magic?
āHA! MINE!ā the Roegadyn behind lifted a coin that had appeared in his hand triumphantly.Ā āMe too!ā the Elezen who had now managed to stand said.Ā āYES! YES! YES! IT TOOK SIXTEEN BELLS IN THIS GODSDAMNED WASTELAND BUT I HAVE IT!ā One of the Lalafell exploded in joy. The others clapped for him halfheartedly. Presumably because they all wished to be him, one who had finished his mission. Suna stood there, transfixed. The weight was ignored now. She was genuinely curious. What was going on?
One of the Miqoāte was unperturbed, listening for something in her ear.Ā āOne by West Hammer. Letās go! Go!ā a cacophony of whistles sang across the plains as an army of chocobos dashed in, scoop, who appeared from seemingly nowhere and zoomed towards the direction of the oil wells. She moved forward again, a little faster this time. The West Hammer was close to the entrance of the Goblet. She could take a detour.
Hup. Hup. Up the steps she went as she crossed the bridge above the wells. Hup. Hup. She went, down the steps. She would have, in hindsight, liked to take a good view of the river below, clear and meandering, but the people seemed bent on collecting coins. For what? What were the shining things on their wrists? She had to know. Maybe she could get one for herself.She wondered if they were cheap. She only had enough for the ferry ride home and lunch and she would willingly skip food for it.
She was sweating more now, the exertion of Ā running through the desert with a heavy crate was getting to her and had to pause for a moment as she reached the West Hammer.Ā āāscuse me! Comin through!ā One of the Lalafellin adventurers zoomed past her on his appropriately sized chocobo. Suna almost fell over as the draft broke the delicate balance between earth, crate, and spearmaiden. She attempted to right herself before falling miserably on the ground and only barely succeeded. Panic over. She breathed a sigh of relief as she turned her gaze to the rear of the speeding bird, growing even more small as it disappeared. She must have just missed them. Oh well.
She made her way back down the road and into the Goblet. Sixth ward. She remembered. One of the subdivisions? The sun had passed the point of noon now and Suna was glad to be near her destination. She entered the sixth ward suddenly realising, what if Serenity wasnāt there? She was the only person Suna really knew and even then, only barely. Haruka-san, of course, but she was uncertain if the Ā half-Doman was there either. What if they had both gone to Ulādah? What if it was their off day too? Sunaās little brain thought hard about this new predicament, her feet trudging through the gilded cobbles of the Ulādahn residential district.
Huh.
Suna looked around, suddenly realising yet another predicament. To the left was a fountain, to the right a house. Where was she? She squinted, trying to remember the layout of the place. She didnāt know. A sense of dread washed over her as the spearmaiden realised that she was very very lost.
