In any case, Fusand was not as worried as her about appearing ’disloyal’ - but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t wondered what to do if the cultivator pair gave them so sort of ultimatum, to continue learning along with them.
’Adults always want sothing for doing sothing. It makes sense. Ti is valuable to anyone, even a child.’
The spiritualist boy didn’t think either of them would charge too much for their tutelage. The Talcres did strike him as ’good’ people. But, he’d have to admit that any amount would be an ’expense’ compared to getting *paid* to explore and shop between learning the Goltbred girl’s rather incisive cultivation advice.
Nohre finally nodded her admission about loyalty concerns and a braid bobbed with the movent.
"I don’t want her to think we’re ungrateful if we end up spending more ti with them in the coming weeks."
"I don’t think she would see it that way. She always says to seek knowledge wherever we can find it, right?"
Fingers ran along the edge of a particularly fine and particularly expensive piece of leather as Nohre reluctantly conceded the point. She hated when she had to do it, knowing it made her thoughts seem silly.
"True. But that was before she started acting... different. What if she changes her mind about us learning from others? What if it was a test of so kind in the first place?"
Fusand fell silent. He was too wrapped up in thoughts about his relationship with this girl, and hadn’t actually considered that approach - it sounded like sothing their master might do!
The sounds of the market washed over them as they lethargically continued their search. Both of the orphans were lost in thought about their enigmatic patron and the changes swirling around everyone. A hand lingered on a promising piece of leather when Fusand suddenly gripped her arm.
’Oh no, is this it? He’s finally going to kiss-’
Her rapid heart beat stalled, when she realized his gaze was fixed on sothing beyond the market stalls. With a nod in the direction, he began to urgently whisper.
"Look over there. Isn’t that Qatrand? The hair is still black and the suit is the sa as when we t after their breakfast..."
Green eyes blinked away their disappointnt and followed his line of sight. She spotted the tall, raven haired figure striding purposefully through the crowd. Sunlight glinted off of a crystal wrapped around a large scabbard worn by the young man.
’That does look like our gift...’
It also helped that Qatrand’s usual stoic expression was softened by what could only be described as a hint of a smile. It was easy to equate it with the looks that the groom had seen given towards the Goltbred at the wedding. A tiny gasp escaped Nohre’s lips as she turned her face.
"It is. And they’re heading straight for..."
"Elua’s workshop-house."
The boy finished as she trailed off. The two disciples exchanged a loaded glance, both of them prid with excitent at the thought of that pair reuniting. The girl even took a half-step forward as if to follow.
"Should we go say hello? Maybe warn about ma- Elua’s mood?"
Fusand’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.
"Wait. We probably shouldn’t get in the middle of that..."
Nohre paused, studying their master’s spouse more closely. There was sothing about the swordsman’s entire deanor - a sense of confidence that was even stronger than the last ti they t.
’This person handled our master so gently... and lovingly.’
She wasn’t envious of the second thing! Or so she grumbled inwardly while hesitatingly shaking her head. After a sigh, she admitted that he was right - but that didn’t completely stop her from wanting to follow.
"Doesn’t it make you curious? What if sothing has happened since we visited?"
The boy’s fingers gripped her a little tighter as he shook his head. He didn’t often use a firm tone, but as wary as she could be about strangers and other dangers... his fellow disciple would quickly stick her nose into the matters of people she cared about.
’It’s the most common complaint I hear from the other orphans.’
"Think about it, Nohre. Her husband is heading straight for her after coming back... probably, since the station was that way. After how we saw her... don’t you think this might be, well, best left private?"
The girls shoulders sagged slightly as understanding dawned. The other children didn’t just complain to *him* about her behavior. Though for all his attempts to stop her now, he was just as ’tolerated’. He had a habit of impulsively and bluntly saying things to people.
"Oh. You an they might need to... talk. Without us around."
"Exactly. I don’t think we want to be caught in the middle of that. I don’t want to be, at least."
They both watched as Qatrand disappeared around a distant corner. The tall figure’s stride had never faltered, though it *did* look like it sped up so as they were talking.
"So what do we do now?"
The teenager with braided hair voiced with disappointnt. The boy scratched at his slim neck, not liking that he was part of the reason she felt that way. He cleared his throat upon so ’sudden inspiration’.
"Well, we can finish our task here. Then we head back and drop things off. Who knows? Maybe by the ti we return..."
A grin spread across the girl’s face as she turned and picked him up in a sudden hug.
"We might catch the aftermath! Fusand, you’re brilliant!"
"Yes, and you are strong. This hurts."
She quickly dropped him. Her arms fell limply to her sides as she released the boy, her face burning with embarrassnt. Nohre took a step back, her wide green eyes darting everywhere but at her ’friend’.
Fusand stumbled slightly as he landed, panting a little while catching his breath. His sandy hair was disheveled as he doubled over from the sudden embrace. He ran a hand through it, trying to regain his composure as she started to mumble an apology.
"I... I’m sorry. I didn’t an to... I forgot how strong-"
"It’s okay."
The boy interrupted a little too fast. He cleared his throat and turned his face, trying to hide the small bit of pink heat in his own cheeks.
"Just... maybe a warning next ti?"
The girl’s head snapped to his profile over his particular wording.
"Next ti?"
Fusand’s blush deepened and his voice cracked.
"I an, not that I- i-it’s just a figure of speech!"
They both stared at each other with a palpable level of *awkward* crossing between them. Nohre fidgeted with the end of one of her braids and Fusand beca suddenly fascinated with adjusting his sleeve. He’d never cared about his clothing in his life!
A rchant’s loud haggling a few stalls down broke the tension and caused them both to jump. Their eyes t for a brief mont to check on each other before quickly darting away again. The Projectionist cleared his throat.
"We should probably... finish the shopping."
"Right. Shopping. For leather. For mas- for our employer."
Nohre agreed too quickly, her voice pitched in a lower register than normal. They walked down the length of stalls with stiff movents. Each was being overly careful as if afraid to accidentally brush against each other and make even more of the mont.
Of course, the more you focus on sothing sotis the more likely it is to happen.
The teenage girl reached for a piece of leather that caught her eye at the sa ti as the boy. Their hands touched only briefly, yet they both recoiled as if burned by the contact. Both of them muttered an apology at the sa ti, before laughing nervously.
The stolen glances at each other when they *thought* the other wasn’t looking... made both *acutely* aware that sothing had apparently shifted between them.
---
An illusionist’s eyes grew as big as saucers as a familiar sensation pulsed through the fragnt in her chest. Qat was near! Too near... the swordswoman was *closer* to where the heiress was going than she was.
’The house. Oh no, the house!’
Panic hit her like a physical blow, driving the air from her lungs. It was one thing to know you had an ugly side, one thing for you to tell the person you loved that you had it... and another entirely for them to see it in action. Elua knew that she couldn’t even do anything in ti, but she broke into a run anyway.
Her feet pounded against the streets as she weaved through startled pedestrians that quickly forgot what they were looking at an instant later. Her spiritual sense followed in her wake with more force than finesse.
Rather than swerve when a rchant’s cart lood in her path, the reincarnator leapt. Her feet found the edge of a rooftop and she just kept running up above. Since she wasn’t being so careful with the use of her abilities, there was no sense in pretending to be bound to mortal thods.
Her spirit funneled through the fragnt and reached out to probe the distance between her and Qat. The brunette was moving significantly faster, but she had wandered too far into the city. The Goltbred girl pushed even harder, combining use of her essence to knock away the winds and round off her running balance when using her Physique in such a constant state.
As she neared the small ho, a place she’d ant to be a nice and comfortable place for Qat to return to... her anxiety mounted. She wondered if she had hidden the new sigils well enough. If there was a single thing she could do to make this instantly better. If she would be asked what was wrong with her.
If, if, if. Questions with no good answers pounded at the mint eyed girl.
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