How Did It Ever Come To This?

[Iriah Caitrak]

Perhaps she should have chosen a place less extravagant. Though Malagen would never outwardly say he was uncomfortable with something she could tell this was not the most common place he dined at and nor was it for her. It had looked rather interesting when she had passed by it on one of her aimless walks but it was just a little too stuck up. Perhaps the food was good and really she could care less what the siahds in this room thought of her and her choice of company. They could always leave but Ira was starving and she didn’t feel like finding another place to eat at. They were here; they might as well enjoy it as best they could.

Grabbing the menu from the table, Ira opened it and flipped through the pages quickly realizing she’d made another error in her choice of dining. Everything within the menu was written in Tradespeak and though Ira could speak the language to an extent she couldn’t read it if her life depended on it. The neat letters so wonderfully written were lost to her mind in a confusing swirl of circles and lines that interlocked together to create a language. The only thing she could read was Fallien and an extremely small amount of Common and by small she meant really small. This may as well have been written in some kind of ancient language, the decoder of which long since lost to the ages for all it’s worth to her. But that would be a rather embarrassing thing to admit to Malagen. He lived in this city and reading something as trivial as a menu would be so simple to him. She didn’t want to have to admit she couldn’t read this. So she let her pride get the best of her as she thoughtfully studied dishes she would never hope to understand.

“The sir has decided?”

The gentle and polite voice of the waiter broke through Ira’s mind, a thankful reprieve to the confusing swirl of letters dancing beyond her eyelids. Yet that also made her realize she would be expected to order as well. Malagen’s response made her blink and slowly look up from the menu. Never before had she heard him sound so unsure of himself, it was so out of character. He even looked uncomfortable. He was however giving the waiter a glare that would send most men scampering for their lives. She had to hand it to him, he didn’t back away, he actually offered the menu to Malagen again on the list of drinks trying to encourage him to order something. Silence was the only answer the waiter received for what seemed like minutes. Finally Malagen broke it by admitting he couldn’t read and further growling to the waiter to bring him ‘whatever’ and go away.

The man took the menu off the table, slightly off put by the tone in which Malagen had spoken to him and possibly by the fact that he couldn’t read. Ira on the other hand sat there rather surprised. She couldn’t believe he would admit to such a thing and he even seemed upset at the fact that he couldn’t understand the language.

When the waiter turned to walk away, Ira gently placed her hand on his arm as she smiled up at him, “I’m afraid I cannot read Tradespeak either.” The waiter seemed displeased by her sudden revelation and that slightly irritated her but she tried not to let it show. “Do you by any chance carry ayahpana?”

The waiter smiled, “We do. It happens to be one of my favourite drinks.”

Relief washed over her, finally something a little familiar from her area of the world, “Wonderful, two of those please.”

‘Iron drink’ was its direct translation. It was a form of alcohol from her native Fallien that was extremely strong and took a stronger stomach to handle. The drink had recently begun to grow popular among other nations including Corone, but Ira had learned early on in her stay that most Taverns did not carry it. Apparently the more high-class areas did.

“Now… as for our orders…” Ira began.

Ira hated ordering for other people but seeing as how stubborn Malagen was and how she did not wish to embarrass him, she decided to ask all the questions. When it was said and done she’d ordered a simple plate of meats, cheeses and bread as an appetizer. For her main course; some kind of rare foul with a light lemon, wine sauce and a side of pasta and salad. Malagen she’d ordered something with a little more red meat to it. She only hoped he would enjoy it.

The waiter picked up their menus and left them only to return moments later with two glasses of ayahpana. It was a clear blue liquid that looked harmless enough but Ira knew better. Good thing the Calerian knew how to handle her alcohol.

Taking a sip of her drink, Ira felt the burn and the warmth all the way down.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you saved my life after wishing to take it?” Ira asked Malagen rather bluntly. It wasn’t the best conversation starter but the Calerian had never been one for small talk, “I’m not stupid, Malagen. Evil you may not be, but nor are you good. You operate for your own needs and care little for those of others. I’d ask you why you’re such a bastard but I worry over the answer you’d give me.”

That was definitely not the most eloquent thing she could have said to him. But she wasn’t here to woe him or play nice to him, not to mention his kind didn’t play nice. He probably preferred the straight forward approach same as she did. Taking another sip of the ayahpana to help wash down the words and his answer, Ira waited.