Time has come to leave the nest,
A gentle push from loving arms
Will I fall or will I fly?
Will it matter either way?
If I fail let it be known,
Lack of trying be not the cause
My will to fly shall not break
as long as there's a penny to make.
Time has come to leave the nest,
A gentle push from loving arms
Will I fall or will I fly?
Will it matter either way?
If I fail let it be known,
Lack of trying be not the cause
My will to fly shall not break
as long as there's a penny to make.
Winona Remedy Blue. That's my name, been a long time since I used it in full though. Nowadays I go by Remedy Blue. I am what you call a 'trader', although such a humble title doesn't really capture the extraordinary deals I can offer to any customer who stumbles upon my wares. I don't just sell goods, no no dear friend I sell dreams! Potentials, promises, wishes, you name it, I've got it. A small wooden horse may look like a simple toy to you, but it is nothing of the sort! It is a mighty stallion! A horse of justice! I sell dreams dear friend. I sell potential. If I happen to make a little coin on the way I assure you it is only so I may continue my work.
This is a story of one of my adventures. To be precise this is one of my first solo adventures. It was a few months ago, and I had been flying solo from the nest for about two months. I had just returned from Fallien, and let me tell you, I don't mind sand, but there was far more than I had expected. I was following a rumour that had it been true would have been the find of a lifetime. The legend of the golden sand turned out to be little more than sand with a high copper concentration that glistened in the sun. It was a little disappointed, but I was not down without a fight! It would take more than a drop on the periodic table to stop me.
A week later and I arrived where the real interesting stuff happened. The city of Scara Brae; my type of city. A hustling and bustling metropolis in which one of my heritage wasn't just hidden by the masses, indeed it was outright ignored. What mattered here was money, dirty or bloody, it was all the same. It was raining and close to midnight when I stepped down the boarding plank to the stone harbour. I'd be lying if I didn't mention that I stumbled slightly as I made my way onto the safety of the stone ground. I was queasy, a mixture of anticipation of a warm bed and residual seasickness. I turned a sodden face up towards the lines of buildings that walled the docks. The cold was seeping into my bones and I was starting to feel worse and I had all the more reason to get to my Inn. I adjusted my ineffective hood and cloak and heaved my backpack into a more comfortable position on my shoulders as I started walking.
The lanterns lining the streets swung and creaked above me as I walked and the sleeting rain providing a backdrop of heavy drops and splashes. I was glad of the tick coat around myself, even if it was struggling to keep the rain and cold at bay. The Inns near the dock would have been the quickest to get into a warm bed, but I made my way deeper into the city. The last thing I needed was some drunk sailor trying to crawl into my bed in the middle of the night. Setting fire to your room can be costly on the purse. Besides, the majority of traders I needed were further into the city, and I was going to be staying for a few days.
Ten minutes of soddenly walking through the rain and I made it to my Inn. I stumbled inside big double doors to a few people quietly drinking and a very tired looking Innkeeper. We barely said two words to each other as our faces mirrored our desire for sleep. A minute or two later I had stripped off my wet cloths, rolled out my sleeping mat over the bed and was fast asleep.
I woke at the crack of dawn, or at least I would have if not for the dark clouds that covered the sky. Perhaps a better turn of phrase would be ‘I woke up when the sky was illuminated by the sun through clouds to the extent as to allow me to conduct my business’. I found myself hungry, both for food and opportunity, but still took my time getting ready. The leather suit I wore was a special design that captured and stored excess magic. It was an unfortunate requirement due to my particular physiology, but I had found some uses for it. I checked that the pipes that travelled under the leather, down to the special pouches, were all oiled and functioning. Lastly I ran my fingers along the overflow pipes that ran down the sleeves to where my wrists would be. The overflow pipes allowed my to shoot the magical flames from my wrists, but I didn't like to use my makeshift flamethrowers if I didn't have to. It seemed a waste to use the flames when I could sell them instead.
Content with the suit I pulled it over my head and tightened the belts holding it closed. I grabbed a few smoke bombs from my bag and slipped them into my pockets and finally pulled my glove over my hand and admired the polished copper as i started winding the small cog at the base of my wrist to charge it. Half an hour after waking I headed downstairs and grabbed something that was supposed to be eggs between bread and was off for a days work.
The routine with my suit had been daily for years. I only allowed myself to sleep without it, and even then only if I had been wearing it that day. I often toyed with the idea of not wearing it and seeing if I was able to control the fire that seeped from my skin like a normal person sweats. The few times I had tried I had chickened out halfway through the day. The suit was my crutch, it allowed me to get out into the world, but I wondered if it was truly the way I was supposed to live my life. That however is a question for a different time.
My first stop was an old watch maker. I darted quickly through the streets as I made my way towards the merchant district. The inn I had picked was central to most of the important parts of the city, none were more important than where others make their money. Where someone makes money, there is of course another to catch the overflow. The store I was heading to was nondescript, but the tinker inside was an old school trader through and through. He was a master at his craft, putting my small skill shame. Not even Sylus, the man that took me into his family and taught me his trade could compare with Reamus.
The door toned with bells as I entered. Now this was not just some simple chime, it rang for a solid minute, a symphony of sounds moving from chiming birds through to rustling leaves. He had added another verse since I last visited. Each time he added more the complicated mechanics of the bell that lined his roof grew even bigger. It was amazing, and I followed the twisting cogs and rotating cylinders as I tried to follow the workings. My eyes fell upon the new verse coming from a large turning copper cylinder. A number of metal tongs were position near the twisting device, with small bumps catching them as it turned. With a flick the sound echoed through the shop, and what seemed like a dozen musicians played together. For a moment it was I could do to watch the machinations and song in wonder. It ended with a final flourish and silence descended in the store. It took a moment for my senses to return and my eyes swivelled to the rest of the shop. It was filled with clockwork gadgets, the least of which was the humble pocket watch.
I almost missed Reamus as I scanned the items. The dwarf was small even by their standards. He was from Alerar, and according to him his skills were none compared to the grand masters back home. As always his eyes were magnified behind huge round glasses, his bushy grey beard hung down to his bellybutton and a large slouched hat covered his head. I always wondered if his head was bald under it.
"Remedy my dear!" his face broke into a wide smile, for a moment there was little but glasses teeth and beard to the dwarf. I held out my hand to shake his, but he grabbed it with both hands and pulled me down to gaze at my glove.
"interesting, interesting. clearly Sylus 's work," said Reamus as he twisted my hand over and stared at the wires, "practical, I see you’ve been cleaning it."
The words were kind, but I knew that in his world practical mean cumbersome. Reamus clicked his tounge in a gentle scald. I knew it was affection that drove his words. Sharing his thoughts on something like this was as close to a hug as he would give.
“You should switch to a finer brush. The one you’re using is too course and will erode the circuits. Oil’s fine I guess, but you should pick up some of that troll oil while you’re in town.”
I didn't bother pulling my hand away as Reamus guided me over to his work desk. It was a solid wooden table with little space given the amount of stuff that seemed packed on top. There were jars of picks, knobs, screwdrivers and things I couldn’t name. His hands started moved over the glove, tightening some cables and loosening others. The quartz stone was ejected, and filed before being returned, the cables cleaned and rewired. I tried to watch and learn all I could from his dextrous movements, but I knew I’d have to example the glove again when I got back to my inn to really gain anything. His movements were just too fast, and what would have taken me two hours he had already finished in the space of a conversation.
"I’ve come with more than just a new glove," I ventured
I could tell from a slight change in his body that his interest was piqued, but like a true craftsman he didn’t look away from his work.
"Copper sand, traces of quartz and a few flecks of gold. Straight from the sands of Fallien."
"Couldn’t find Roht Mirage?" asked Reamus.
The woman of sand had risen to a certain level of fame recently with her winning one of the largest tournaments across Althanas, but she had alluded my attempts to contact her. The fact Reamus knew that I was looking was somewhat off-putting.
"No.. the woman eludes me… and the myth of the golden sand seems just that, a myth. However, this sand while less valuable is no less useful."
"You’ve inherited Sylus's love of gold, that’s for sure,” said the tiny dwarf as he pushed himself up from over my glove, “alight, you’re done."
I lifted my hand into the air and flexed my fingers. It indeed felt lighter. Several cables had been shortened and adjusted to fit better. Reamus handed me the extra wire he had taken from the redesign and I shoved them in my pocket and pulled out a small punch of sand from another hidden one and handed it to Reamus. The dwarft took it and poured it into a spare bowl and then a magnifying glass from under a stack of papers.
"Did you purify this?" he asked.
"No, if this deal goes through then this is how it will arrive."
"Good, if you had I’d say your skills would be slipping."
I didn’t respond as he continued to swirl the sand and peer through the magnifying glass. His tongue started clicking and I smiled. The dwarf was not the best trader, he had way too many tells. I’d never take advantage of him though. He was too valuable, both as a friend and a business partner. There were many who had pulled the wool over his eyes once and he’d never do business with them again. A blacklist was a hell of a thing to be on.
"Suitable?" I ventured.
"Suitable!" said Reamus as he turned a broad smile my way, "very suitable!"
"Fantastic, I assume 10 gold per barrel of this sand?"
"10?" replied the dwarf with a furled brow.
"There would be 4 gold to the miner, 2 to the shipper, 1 on tax and 3 to me to cover troubleshooting and ensuring quality."
Reamus was one that liked to know how much the miner was receiving, even if in this case it was a tall dark skinned Fallien with a shovel rather than a small soot covered dwarf with a pickaxe. He turned the figures over in head, working out the weight of the product and how much he could sell or refine it for. I didn’t quite know what he planned to use the sand for. The composition could be used in something similar to the quartz battery in my glove to store electricity at a somewhat reduced efficiency, but much bigger. Or if he melted it down it could make extremely conductive wire. I estimated a 5 to 10 gold for him depending on what he decided to do.
I waited a moment for Reamus to reach the same conclusion I had.
"Deal!" he grabbed my hand and shook it.
"Fantastic, now lets talk about the dirt after you refine it."
"Dirt?"
"High phosphate dirt, traces of nitrogen and sulphur. There isn’t much dirt in the desert sands, but what there is, well its extraordinary."
“I have no need of dirt," said Reamus stroking his beard, "I’d probably dump it into the ocean."
"Bite your tongue!" I said with feigned shock and followed up with smile and flashed my perly white teeth, "I’ll buy it off you for one gold a barrel. I assume it’s about 10% of the sand?"
"Nine point five to be exact. Ten and a half barrels in, one out."
"Perfect, I trust we have a deal?" I said holding out my hand.
"Very well my girl, you have a deal," said Reamus as he gripped my hand, “You’re Sylus's kid, that’s for sure. Not for blood perhaps, but certainly spirit.”
Some small talk later and I was back on the street. I left the bag of sand with Reamus. I knew he would already be at work creating a machine that could separate the quartz, copper and gold from the sand, leaving the find dirt. No one tried to get the dirt from Fallien sand, it was too costly for the output. Throw in a dwarf with a knack for automations and a desire for copper sand and I was in with a winner.
I looked both ways down the street as I left the shop. It was still dark and a little patter of rain had come and gone and the street was damp. I took a moment to adjust the hidden bags on my person. The lack of sand made me a bit lighter, but still somewhat uncomfortable. It took a moment and allowed my eyes to adjust to the light outside. Even overcast the tinker’s workshop was a lot darker. Already I had made a small profit. A trade of sand to Reamus would net me a slow but decent income. Reamus had even given me some scraps from his shop that I had saved before he threw them away. A few gears and wires, the quality was good, but not quite up to the quality Reamus accepted.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and started down the road towards my next quarry.
Rain dampened most people spirits. It was wet, cold and more than a little windy. I tried to move quickly to chase off the cold, well aware that my next location would be warm, though that was the only upside. Within two blocks the smell hit me. It was hard to describe, sort of like a thick musty decomposing smell. I paused and pulled out a small handkerchief and wrapped it around my face. I had prepared it earlier and lined the inside with coal. The carbon pulled out the scents from the air and I had pure, albeit slightly burnt, smelling air.
The streets started to clear as I walked, buildings turning into fields and the more rural Scara Brae came forth. I paused finally out the front of a short squat brick building. At least it once was a building. It was now more plant than anything. The outside was covered in thick moss and weeping willow branches peaked out from windows and cracks in the walls. It was not the sort of building I’d enter quickly for fear of it collapsing in a mild breeze. But it reputation preceded it, and Sylus had had some experience with the owner. I didn’t have time to think however, a pitter-patter of rain threatened to wash out the coal in my handkerchief and I dashed to the door and entered.
The heat hit me instantly, and I quickly slammed the door behind me. Both as an attempt to keep the heat in and to announce my arrival. The room was filled with plants off all shapes and sizes. They were stacked fin rows on shelves, in pots on tables and the floor. There was just enough space in the room for a few people to stand, and it was obvious that it was begrudgingly given. The rest of the house I knew was filled with even more rooms filled with rare and exotic plants. Their uses were varied and only a few I recognised. Some sported small bright red fruits burned like fire when you ate them. They could be used both in food and in smoke bombs like mine to make people eyes water and their throat burn. Then there were flowers, some pretty in varied colours while others were poisonous. One petal ground up and placed in a broth was enough to knock someone out, two would cause outright death. There were even more, food, cures, aphrodisiacs. I was able to name a few, and knew how to prepare even less.
"Yes, hello, yes?"
The woman that came bustling out from the back room look more plant than human. Her hair was brown, tied back in a tangled mess. Her eyes were big and green, peering out from her head as if she was shocked to see a human. I pulled back my hood and let my red hair into the light. it had been years since I had met Yolinda. She looked exactly the same, perhaps bigger crow’s feet besides the eyes though. She looked at me for a second and i stared back at her.
"Yolinda, I’m Remedy Blue," I said, expecting some sort of memory.
Her green eyes blinked a few times. There was just silence as she waited for me to continue.
"I was with Sylus when he did the pipes."
Again there was silence. Screw it, this is getting me nowhere, I thought.
"I’ve come to sell you some dirt," I said as reached into my coat pulled out a small bag of dirt. It had taken me ages to scrap the dirt from the sand, but it was necessary if I wanted this part of the sale. I handed the small bag to Yolinda, who showed the first emotion since I came in.
“Nitrogen rich,” I added.
She scurried behind the counter, hidden by the leaves from the three large plants on the table. She emerged a second later with three vials and looked around. For a moment I thought she was going to find table space. Finding none she dropped to the floor and used it instead. She tipped the dirt into each of the three vials and waited. The first bubbled and turned a milky white, the second a vibrant orange and the last stayed clear.
"Nitrogen" she said simply.
She stood up, leaving the vials and dirt on the ground.
"Half a gold coin for the bag," she said simple.
"I’m not selling just the bag, I’m talking about set trade. I imagine you’d be able to grow a lot of yellow spot mushrooms with one barrel a month."
Yellow spot mushrooms were outlawed in most parts of the world. In Scara Brae they were not quite illegal, but if you openly sold them you’d expect a visit from the local law pretty soon. They were mostly used by thieves guilds for quick poisons, however a few darker places would use them for even more sinister ends.
"I would never grow those!" she tried to hide her emotions. "I’ll give you two gold a barrel. Even if I wanted to grow those dangerous, mushrooms I’d have to add sulphur anyway."
"Yellow means sulphur," I said pointing towards the second vial, "I tested it myself before coming here. Twenty gold a barrel"
She paused for a second. I knew I had got her. She stood to gain roughly double that amount, perhaps more if she didn’t care who she sold it to.
"Smart girl... fifteen. i need to pay rent you know."
“You own this building; no one would let you grow a tree through their roof.” I paused and tapped my chin as if I was thinking. So far everything had gone as I had expected, but it often helped to play a more unsure line of attack to lure your target in.
“Fifteen, and I get to keep the dirt when the mushrooms won’t grow anymore. I can probably sell it to some farmer to kill his weeds."
Of course I had something better in mind, and I knew she wouldn’t be thinking about the worth for of soil with concentrated phosphate at that level. It would only kill plants that she out it in.
“Yess, I suppose you might,” she echoed, somewhat suspicious but eager to get her hands on the soil. She took my hand and shook it. It was wet, and slightly slimy but I could almost taste the profits.
The air was cold outside. I wiped my hand against the wall and left a slick of green. The glove that had just been expertly cleaned was now dirtier than before. I sighed, it didn’t matter that much. I could buy the parts to give it an upgrade with the future profit I was securing. I left my hood down for a moment, only the handkerchief across my nose and mouth. I knew I looked like a young ruffian with my red braids hanging down and leather cloths. I didn’t care. The rain would come soon and I needed to feel the wind on my face to clear away the stench. The life of a traveller is a hard one, you want the road, and too much time in cities dulls the mind. I gave Reamus a fair deal, but 10 gold and at least half a barrel of phosphate rich dirt. I’d probably have settled for eight, enough to cover the cost of carting it to her and a few extra gold. If he didn’t spend so much time in his shop he could have haggled me down. Yolinda had probably muddled her own mind with those plants of hers.
I made my way down the road, hands in pockets and a slow gait. It was near lunch time, but I’d need a good thirty minutes in the fresh air before the smell of manure left my cloths. I had to make my way slowly through the streets towards the final dealer. I’d been fairly lucky so far, and I was quietly confident that the next one would go the same way.
The Big Flash
The sign was bright red, with a few black singed marks across one of the sides. Nothing said excitement like The Big Flash. It was the favourite of every kid for miles around. It had originally started as an alchemist workshop many years ago, but now dealt almost exclusively with things that exploded. Most of it was harmless enough. Gunpowder was a rare commodity, and you couldn’t waste it on toys for kids. They used cheap, but effective alternatives and gunpowder or magnesium as a fuse. The owner was an old man named Seirs, but he rarely worked in the shop any more. Instead his son ran the store. A fiery kid by the name of Jak, short for Jakket. The name was too long for his attention span, so he shortened it.
I paused for a moment out the front and looked at myself in the dirty window. I pulled down the handkerchief from my face and left it around my neck. I undid the first two buttons from my top and allowed a generous amount of cleavage to show. Jak was about my age, and like everything he did, it was quick and loud. The only time I saw him slow down was when he was preparing reagents and consumables. It was like flicking a switch, something pretty amazing to see if you knew him. I took a moment and glanced down at my chest. This wasn’t my normal way of doing business, but I’d known Jak since we were much younger. Perhaps it wasn’t about the sale completely.
“Remy!"
I had entered the shop and made my way towards the counter when he had called out. I barely managed to turn towards the sounds before the boy wrapped his arms around me and planted a kiss on my lips; then I placed my hand on his leg.
“yiiieeeaaaaaaaggge!" he yelled as he collapsed to the ground. My glove was a nice welcome message, although I had toned down the voltage somewhat. Even then for a second I though that I might have done more damage than I had meant as he writhed on the floor. Suddenly he rolled onto his side and placed his head in his hand to turned his large green eyes towards me.
"Baby when we kiss its electric!"
I sighed and held out my hand to help him up. He looked at the glove and stayed still. I sighed again and held out the other hand which he grabbed and pulled himself to his feet. I stepped back and kept him at arm’s length, pretending I didn’t see his eyes glance down at my chest.
"When are you going to marry me Remy? We could totally run away. You and I could make fireworks on some tropical island together," he said, in an almost endearing way, "if you know what I mean"
"There it is!" I threw my hands into the air, overacting my outrage to both of our knowledge, “that was almost romantic till you wrecked it.”
I pushed him backwards and he moved over to the counter and lent against it.
"That’s some toy you’ve got there," he said, rubbing his numb leg. It didn’t do much good, so instead he flopped along the length of the table. He grinned from ear to ear as he tapped the table in the signal to joint him. I pulled a spare chair that was against the wall and sat out of reach.
"I needed to keep you still for a while, I’d hate to have actually injure you before we conduct business."
His face didn’t loose its large smile. He knew better than most what happens when I lost control and the fire came. In truth, he just didn’t care. Leave it to Jak, prince of fire, to lust after a girl like me. I still remember his eyes wide with wonder when he walked in on my taking bath by accident a few years ago. I had screamed and burst into flames. The water contained the fire, but it steamed out the whole house. For a moment he had seen me clothed in flame, and rather than fear his eyes had been full of wonder. Two days later he asked me to marry him. Idiot. He did it every few months when I had come past. The kiss was rare tough, I guessed the poor weather had driven away customers and he had been bored.
“Phosphate.”
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