'I am flying!'
Rayla opens her arms wide, standing against the current of the wild sea breeze.
He profoundly refuses to answer, instead focusing on tuning his wooden guitar.
'Come on Johan, we are on a ship, show some life!' she raises her voice, resulting to even more passengers looking at her. Not that there are many, in this ship at least. Port Borro is but a small one, most roads leading there belong to villages or small towns. But it does have ships like that one, ships that a couple times a month they start for one of the most important destinations of the Northern Province, Port Rocko.
He again pretends not to hear.
She scratches her head, then sits right besides him.
'That guitar still givin ya trouble? That must be turning your strings, huh?'
A slight tightness in his expression but nothing more, she must come up with something worse.
'Man, can't believe our friends at Faugh gave us such a great goodbye. You can say we got a Faugh-some treatment, ain't I right?'
His fingers stretch, agonizingly.
'I sure hope we get there Faugh-st, don't you agree?'
He sighs but gives up on his instrument.
'I knew it, you could hear me!' she says and playfully leans on his shoulder 'Come on, what's bothering you?' she asks mildly concerned.
'What makes you think something bothers me?' he talks with his neutral tone, that gives no emotion.
'I don't know, you just...I feel I can't "read" you anymore, like you're trying to hide something from me' she admits, sad.
'Of course I am. I rather die than share all my thoughts with you'
'Meanie' she sticks her tongue out at him, then yawns and leans her head on his shoulder.
'You don't have to put the "cool silent guy" persona with me, you know that right? Don't roll your eyes, I mean it' she insists.
He turns his head, so he faces her directly.
'If I keep something from you, it means I do not wish to talk about it right now, that is all there is to it. When I do, I have no problem sharing it to you or anyone' he ends the conversation and grabs a small basket from his bag.
'Hey, isn't this the basket Karie gave you? What's inside?'
He shows her and she jumps with enthusiasm.
'Miss Martha's sweetbread? Sweet! Can I have some?' she grabs one anyway.
Miss Martha, Karie's aunt, has a special recipe that makes otherwise ordinary bread sweet to a fault, yet irresistible. She refuses to share the recipe and is swimming in riches anytime a new "order" arrives, usually at a kid's birthday.
'I can't believe Karie managed to get so many! And you only said a "thank you"? Come on bro, she's been trying so hard...' she complains with meaning.
'I did not ask her to' he shrugs.
She sighs.
'One day you'll be sorry for not responding to her feelings, that's all I'm saying'
'I have no idea what you are talking about'
'Of course you do, it's just sometimes you're a huge jerk' she huffs.
He shrugs again but stands up, as he notices. She looks at him, puzzled, but he gestures her to come by.
'Oh!' she gazes, amused 'So this is the Rocko Lighthouse!'
Built at the beginning of The Second Godhood, this famous lighthouse is considered the oldest standing structure of the Northern Province. According to the remaining sources, no matter who would take hold of the area, they would never lay a scratch on this magnificent building of ancient wood, dirt, and stones imported from areas now lost in time.
'Too bad this is such a good day, I wanted to see it lit' she murmurs, but she can't complain more, really. For them to be able to see it from this distance, she calculates it's definitely bigger than whatever they've seen until now.
Minutes later they disembark at the populous port. Rayla is supposed to watch over their baggage as he hurries to find a tavern with rooms to spare, but her eyes can't help but wander around.
Men and women whose skin is somehow colored brown, others pale as ghosts. But it's the elves that draw her attention the most, with their green-ish skin and long hair, of which she only read in books. Unlike their story counterparts, they wear mostly "normal" clothes, not the fancy dresses or over-the-top coats she thought they would, but that's to be expected.
Human writers notoriously misrepresent other races, she's been told.
Johan comes back and leads her to a small tavern, the "Black Cat", an old, stinky building she wonders how is it still standing.
To her surprise and despite the rough exterior, the inside feels particularly friendly.
Everyone's having the time of their life, consuming glasses of ale like water, clapping and a couple brawling, but doing so while laughing, so it can't be that serious.
Johan exchanges a few words with the bartender and nods to follow him up the stairs to a narrow corridor with a couple doors at each side. He unlocks the second to right and they go in.
'Woah, it's pretty clean' she remarks excited, and she's not wrong.
There's little dust, no bugs and their bed looks comfy and warm, the desk opposing the mirror is not messy and the bathroom appears sanitized.
'Johan, can you believe it, there's no giant hole next to the pillows! That alone makes it the best and least haunted room we've stayed so far!'
He sighs in disbelief.
'Come on bro, that place was, like, totally haunted!
...
Pff, fine, I'd like to see your reaction at staring the ghost's empty eyes devoid of soul one of these days...'
She lets it go and falls on the bed, letting a big sigh of relief.
'Man, you never know how tired you are until you take a dive at a nice bed...' she stretches her whole body, until she finds her preferred position of looking like a ragdoll. Johan once openly questioned how she hasn't broken a leg yet...
'Hey, bro, you have to try that bed out, it's almost as good as the one back home'
For a moment he looks conflicted, then he comes and lays next to her.
They stay like that for a minute, just staring at the ceiling.
People can still he heard, through the closed window.
'Wow, it's been six years, man...can you believe it?' she breaks the silence 'Those were some times...and you were so cute, back then! You were so serious, yet still so sweet and supportive...how did you end up like this?' she teases him, playfully.
'I remember...' he joins in '...You were such an idiot, so annoying...yea, I have no wonder how you ended up like this'
'But-I-was-also...' she adds a small kick between each word.
'Under heavy physical pressure, I will admit...'
He kicks her back.
'...you are good'
'Johansen Black said a good word, people, he's not just a teen going through a phase!' she laughs outloud, and even he cracks something of a smile.
She then lets a huge yawn, and her eyes start getting heavier.
'I'm going down, bro...wake me up when you do tomorrow...' she murmurs and falls asleep surprisingly fast for someone joking seconds ago.
.
.
.
Johan waits until he hears her rhythmic breathing, that he gets up towards the window. He opens it and skillfully climbs to the roof, a store later.
He sits on the stone chimney, hidden from unwanted eyes, and activates the Mark on his right hand.
As always, it spreads along his arm, with a black aura around it.
'You get one. What was so important?'
He listens carefully, rubbing his pendant between his thumb and pointer.
'That was all?' he says, unimpressed.
He keeps listening and quickly turns frustrated.
'You either explain it, or you are back to nothing for the next five years'
He clinches his fist.
'We are done here'
The Mark disappears at once, and lets a big sigh of frustration. If only there was a quiet place nearby, he can not stand the noise coming from around the town...
He slips back to their room. As expected, she has already covered most of the bed, a true miracle, considering how damn short she is.
He sneaks to her side, quietly, as to not wake her.
It sounds as if she murmurs something, in her sleep.
'Faugh-ntastic...Faugh-licious...Faugh-gressive...'
She is most probably dreaming of puns she did not get to use against him.
He sighs.
'Faugh-ck you' he murmurs and sleeps by her side.