Trial by Flame

Chapter 17

Frankly, Trelisti was surprised they made it to port.

Time had started to blend together, separated mostly by the occurrence of a storm. Trelisti didn't know how many days passed when they finally drifted to the docks, hindered by the flimsily-fixed back sail, but the last was miserable. If the murderous heat wasn't enough, the waves tossed by the storm contaminated their water supply. They barely spoke because they were so parched.

Tellik was quick to tie the boat to a post before taking them to a nearby stand, where a man was scratching notes into a record. He was tan, with warm red undertones to his skin and a bald head with pointed ears. He sent a cursory glance up to Tellik, mumbling something, before doing a double take.

"Tellik? Is that you?" he said suddenly, adjusting his glasses with wide eyes. "Surely, Jael's playing a trick on me."

"No tricks today, ano," Tellik answered with a grin. His tongue switched fully after that, and while Trelisti understood names and a few simple words, everything beyond that was lost to him until the man handed him a canteen. Tellik took a swig, then passed it off to Trelisti.

Trelisti drank and handed it back, surprised by how quickly his throat felt a difference. He'd felt the burn this whole time, but as soon as the water hit, he realized how dry it really was, like his mouth was made out of sand. The idea of being so dehydrated again was unfathomable.

The man took it back as he spoke more, then laughed more, with Tellik. Trelisti scoured the docks in the meantime.

Rosvanii Port was bustling. It spread as far as the eye could see, with dozens—maybe even more than a hundred—ships in sight. Merchants and travelers alike crowded the boardwalks, most heading into bridgelike sections that led further inland. Many wore loose, robelike clothing, some using veils to protect their heads and shoulders from the sun. Unlike the other ports, there were boats of all shapes and sizes, and the land was more sand than rock. Signs crowded the city entryways. A mixture of languages stirred the air. Trelisti couldn't help but hear the conversations of a few passersby, though he couldn't tell all the meanings.

"...an audience with the Golmund Company, then work towards..."

"Agne? Sekans torr ohlo din..."

"...heard she'll be performing at Tah'lo here soon..."

"And who've you brought with you here, Tellik? He looks lost."

It took Trelisti a moment to realize that the last one was referring to him.

"Uh. Trelisti," he said, refocusing on the conversation. He'd gotten swept up in the crowd's gossip too easily.

"And a family name? It's for registration purposes," the man continued, holding up his paper log. "Main city of residence, as well, or whichever's closest to where you live."

Trelisti sent him a suspicious glare, but Tellik nudged him to respond. His gaze seemed to imply to trust him.

Trelisti didn't, but he also didn't think he had a choice.

"Anduvel," he murmured, side-eyeing the docks. "And Everhold."

"Everhold, huh?" the man asked as he scrawled down more notes. "The name's local—are you or your parents from Te Fehr, originally?"

Trelisti glanced at Tellik. "Is this really necessary?"

"Ah...don't worry about making small talk with him, Forno. He's not one for conversation," Tellik interjected in his place. "I'll answer the rest."

Forno nodded, clearly a bit bewildered, but swift to move on. He and Tellik went back and forth again, though this time, much faster.

After a minute or two of more waiting, Tellik said a friendly goodbye before returning next to Trelisti. He motioned to one of the bridges ahead, which turned from wood to a pale yellow stone.