The Spider’s Ballet

The vehicle weaved deftly through the valley as Leoris became visible in the distance. Several concrete pillars crumbled into disrepair, with the walls giving way to the hills and moss. Towering pines hung above the city proper and an open half dome lay open to greet the main road. It sheltered the port where the docks stretched out and were almost vacant outside of their immediate vicinity. The handful of parked vans looked like they had not moved for years.

The van slowed and settled of its own accord at the front of the dock. Emerging first from the entrance of the vehicle was Cherry, who held an unlit cigarette between her lips. She pulled on a black jacket and straightened her black tie against the white button up she wore before striking a match to light up.

Next out was Demalyn, who wore heavy brown boots, deep purple slacks, and a loose-fitting lavender tunic that accentuated the light tone of her eyes. She pulled out a matching conical hat with a sagging tip and pulled it over her wavy hair. She wore wood vines like a bracelet covering her right arm with a satchel tossed over her shoulder.

Desdin emerged last, wearing the same ragged cloak from the day before. He settled a short sword and its scabbard into his belt. He ran his hand across his stubble before stretching out.

A young man, clean shaven with short black hair, dressed in a uniform similar to the sheriff Walstaff, approached them with a dark green display screen before him. He tapped in frustration as his device appeared to not respond to any of his commands. He looked forward, half in embarrassment and half in greeting. Cherry waved a gloved hand at him. “Good morning. We were told a man named Yulsif would take us to meet with your sheriff regarding shelter for the winter.”

The man gave up on his display and placed his hands behind his back. “I would be Yulsif. I’m not sure who else Walstaff thought would work on the docks. Everyone heard about the travelers who paid their respects at the funeral. Normally, the sheriff wouldn’t handle an incoming party but…” Yulsif gazed across the almost vacant dock, “we are eager for some fresh faces and news from the world that isn’t weeks old showing up on the hub. If you would follow me, please?” Yulsif gestured and led them away from the docks.

The cool breeze carried the scent of the pines surrounding the pines. It was still early morning, but many other vans’ occupants were out setting up tables with various wares. Some offered skins, jerky, dried fruit. Others offered trinkets and clothing. And some advertised services befitting a market on the outskirts of town: fortune tellers, soothsayers, snake oil salespeople, and loose medical services for the tired body. Yulsif observed the trio taking in the sights. “Majority of the folks here are citizens of Leoris who make their living out here or out there on the land. There aren’t many people traveling this route and few decide to stay for the winter. We get monthly automated transports from the capital as members of the Union. Those enormous vans provide us with additional necessities and supplies. We take our share, update the census and off it goes without a word. It has been years since we’ve seen anyone from the military and even longer since we’ve seen an actual engineer to advise us on keeping up repairs on the infrastructure here.”

Yulsif brought them to a building built into the wall leading into the town proper. It displayed cracked and dusty windows at no certain level or floor. Some had officers peering out with curious glances at the strange travelers from abroad. Cherry snuffed out her cigarette into a receptacle right outside before following Yulsif inside. They walked past several offices before coming to Walstaff, sitting at his desk at the very end of the hall. A large window behind him previewed Leoris behind him. He was tapping away at the green displays on his desks. He swiped a few shut before greeting the visitors with the affable folds of his smile.

“Thanks, Yulsif. I’ll take it from here. Patrol the dock and make sure no one is getting swindled more than normal if you would.” Walstaff pointed to the seats before his desk where his company planted themselves with Cherry in the middle. “I take it you brought your credentials?” Cherry extended out a flat square object that would fit inside the palm of a hand. Walstaff took it and placed it on a similar shaped indentation on his desk. A display came to life before him. He scrolled through the dark green text, pausing at moments to take in a few details.

“Alrighty, so Cherry Mela Argos. Lieutenant. Expertise was field triage and surgery. Honorably discharged four years ago. Wounded in combat. Suffered traumatic chrism burns to both hands.”

Walstaff looked at Cherry, who was pulling off the white glove from her right hand. Beneath it was a scarred, sinewy, and gnarled appendage with digits intact. She wiggled her fingers before pulling the glove back down. “I’ve regained most of their functionality.”

A bar below the green text had filled by this time and flashed white with a check mark. “Verified. Thank you for your service, Lieutenant. It seems we also have Desdin and Demalyn. Purchased by the Argos family fifteen years ago into indentured servitude from the then-legal Dragonshead trading company.” He clicked his tongue at the next note. “Both are Farland in race and origin.” He closed the display screen before settling back into his seat. “It all checks out. Sorry we don’t have the automated process the major cities use. Our hub can barely process a pixilated fart, much less a photograph or video. As for orientation. Welcome to Leoris. You may, of course, pay to have your van parked here for the next couple of months to ride out the worst of the winter season. But I seem to recall you saying you could offer services which I didn’t so humbly turn away at the time. What can you do for us?”

Cherry placed her hands together in her lap, sat up, and said, “I can personally offer assistance in your medical offices. I was a surgeon and a forensics expert. From the looks of yesterday, you may be in need of both. Demalyn here will open a shop at the dock offering trade and service. We will pay the appropriate tax. And Desdin here, before being sold to my family, hunted Fallen with his father in the Farland. Which I gather you are dealing with from the reports on the hub.”

Walstaff smiled, which caused his eyes to squint. He said, “Well, you folks certainly came at the right time. I’ll have one of my deputies take you to Hobe, who is in charge of our medical staff here in Leoris. He is a bit of a curmudgeon and often complains about not having anyone of talent or experience working in the town.” He turned his attention to Desdin. “I’ve met no one from the Farland. Just know what I’ve read and the wild gossip about your people. The strange tint in your eyes. I had an inkling it was from Dragon breath. Never thought I’d get to see it for myself. I heard in the Farland that the Glass Road did not protect you.”

Desdin gave Walstaff the once over before breaking eye contact. “Yes. Many of our clans had dealings with the Fallen. Mostly, we left each other alone. They went as far as helping deal with their own when they would become rabid. It was an embarrassment for them.”

Walstaff responded, “Well, ever since the Glass Road fell three years ago, we took to naming them Devil Beasts since we called the desert beyond the Road the Devil Lands. Creative, I know. You heard stories, but I never expected to see them come this far into our country. I don’t know how many are in the vicinity and we assume that is what we are dealing with because of reports from townships with similar incidents. Our hunters have had their hands full. We sent for aid from the military, but since the Glass Road incident in the north and growing tensions with the Lux to the east and Dragonshead to the west, I don’t expect we will see much aid.”

Cherry butted in, “If you could arrange for someone to introduce Desdin to the Hunter’s lodge here, I’m sure he would be of great help…” Cherry trailed off as Walstaff placed a hand up.

“I would love to, but I’ll need time with the master of the Hunter’s Lodge. Our small town gave birth to just one descendant in this generation. He was the son of their master, Vilsin. We lost him in the skirmishes with the Farland and Dragonshead out west four years ago. Since losing his son and then his wife a year ago, he has grown somewhat distrustful of outsiders. I’d like to say our town is the tolerable type, but it might be best if your Farland servants had escorts if they planned on being in the town proper for now. Our local librarian here, Ingrid, of course, took an interest in your group. She along with my deputy Ensi will chaperone while I talk some sense to Vilsin.” Walstaff stood up. “Ensi is at the office to the right of the entrance. See him there. I look forward to working with you folks.” Walstaff shook Cherry’s hand once more as the group made for the exit.

They found a young, disinterested deputy who looked exasperated at his display before glancing up at the group. It was clear he had just received notice of his assignment. The group split up, with Demalyn heading back out to the docks, and the solemn Ensi led Desdin and Cherry to the town without ceremony.

As they stepped out from the port onto a large hill overlooking the valley where Leoris rested, Cherry seemed to beam around her. Rays of light spilled down from the canopy above. The dim brightness only added to the charm of Leoris around them. The cobbled roads that were maintained looked pristine, while even the ones not so kept were rustic in appeal. Buildings were also in all manners of disrepair, but looked appealing in an old-fashioned sense. Farmers and botanists tended to the vegetation that overtook areas of the town. People gathered and busied about from the streets to the courts of the residential areas. The cafe seemed busy and chatty, except for the select few that indulged in their displays. Small vehicles autonomously came and went throughout, illuminating the ground below them as they did so.

Desdin looked on with nostalgia. “Outside of the hub, displays and vehicles it reminds me of some of the larger settlements back home. We didn’t learn that places like this existed in the Union. Places that were vibrant and not cold and mechanical.”

Cherry shrugged. “I’m so used to the automation of the world surrounding me. Places like this are always a pleasant surprise.”

Ensi rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take you to the archives first. Ingrid should expect you. From there, I will take our surgeon lieutenant to the hospital and drop her off in the care of Hobe before returning to escort our obvious foreigner about.”

The group waited at a covered stop at the corner of the street. An empty car arrived and allowed them to board. Ensi touched the panel on the dashboard. “Target is Archive building one. Fastest route.” The car started on its path with Desdin and Cherry admiring the sights while Ensi activated his display into his palm and began scrolling through.

They arrived a short time later at a building that sloped down from its entrance to sink below ground. Standing outside was a youthful blonde woman who greeted Ensi with an urgent enthusiasm. He met her cheerful nature with some awkwardness as he introduced the pair of visitors.

Cherry looked perplexed for a moment. “I thought we were meeting a librarian here. Someone named Ingrid.”

The blonde gave a brilliant smile before pointing at herself. “That is me!”

Desdin smiled back and took her hand. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for watching after me.”

Cherry did not wear a look of amusement. She grimaced and said, “Hey, no, remember the rules.” Her protest was a lost utterance towards Desdin. “Whatever.” She was annoyed as she addressed Ensi next. “Hey boy, let’s go to the hospital so you can hurry back and chaperone. Quickly now.” She then started muttering to herself. “Why did the car leave? Now we have to wait for another? This is troublesome already.” She hastily lit a cigarette and took a quick pull.

Ensi looked at her with clear disgust before he said, “You know, that is a nasty habit. The hospital is about a twenty-minute ride to the end of town. The car shouldn’t take long…” Ensi also joined in on muttering to himself. “I have to be close to her age. I’m a man, not a boy.”

Desdin, while only half listening to the fleeing duo, turned his full attention to Ingrid. “It will be a moment before your friend returns. Would you like to show me around the archive?”

Ingrid waved Desdin into the building with joy. “It was so thrilling to see travelers this winter. We worried that news of our issue with the Devil Beasts would keep most away. I always sign up to help with people coming in from abroad. A legitimate soldier with two Farland servants. I haven’t been this curious since the last time we updated the archives from the capital.”

As they walked through the initial hall of the archive where tables that were well-varnished lay about with vacant chairs accounting for most of the room. An individual was here or there sitting relaxed, swiping at displays rising from the tabletops. A circular kiosk with thin wires running into the ceiling sat in between every five tables. As they walked at a downward slant, they approached a stairwell leading down. “The second floor is my favorite for reading or studying. If you or your friends wish to do the same, I would recommend it. The third floor is the office of the archivist. She is old, not in the best of health, and rarely leaves her chamber. I’m her apprentice, so I will take over once she sets out on the eternal path. Do they have archives like this in the Farland, mister Desdin?”

“Do not call me mister. That sounds strange. And no, we do not. Not exactly. My father was a historian for the Farland. We learned through spoken words or tomes from the prior millennia. Some archives I’ve visited had some older books. I was hoping to be privileged enough to look through them.”

Ingrid directed Desdin to sit. “Procedure requires the permission of the archivist to gain access, but seeing as how that role falls to me most of the time, I can bring a cart around for you. Do you know how to use a display?” Desdin nodded. “It is the responsibility of every librarian to transcribe the tomes into the hub, but there are far too many and the work piles up as it passes from one to another. Is there anything in particular you are looking to read about?”

“My favorite stories are the ones about the lost Oldest. Dragsil. Anything related to him would be of tremendous interest.”

Ingrid gave Desdin a curious look. “From what I read, the Farland doesn’t revere the Oldest ones. In fact, isn’t there some disdain among the clans for them?”

Desdin gave a slight shrug as he settled back in his chair. “You aren’t wrong. I remember in the Farland the first time I saw the Dragon unfurl her wings spanning past the mountain side and eclipsing the sun. It was then that I learned utter reverence at the world around me. What have you seen the Oldest do to earn your faith?”

Ingrid sat across from him and didn’t visibly show that she took offense to his slight, but she clicked her tongue slightly when answering, “They gave us the chrism and helped us to build the hub to come to a greater understanding of each other and our existence. They bred into us the descendants that come about every one to two hundred years to help illuminate the path before us. Of those that remain of the Oldest we have Everlith who watches over us like a mother and keeps the chrism flowing, Ivalic who comes from the heavens to end all dispute, and Ouren who protects order and keeps the Devil Land.”

Desdin nodded. “No matter what we believe, and what path we set upon both of our understandings of the world is woefully inadequate, wouldn’t you agree? But that isn’t for a lack of trying. I can help you gather the tomes if you need.”