Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

XL. Scypia

For a long while, Alia clung to the ship's rail, expecting Scypia to suddenly resolve into clarity, but it was as though the ship wasn't moving at all. She cast a doubtful glance at the sails, which were snapping tautly in the breeze, and again at the gray smudge on the horizon.

Nothing changed, but a thought suddenly struck. The sigil. How could she be standing up here squinting at the sky when she'd actually managed to craft a piece of magery yesterday? To her chagrin, she couldn't remember where that precious little splinter had been left in all the chaos--but below-decks in her little cubbyhole seemed like a good place to start. Heading back down would give her another chance to find Kit, too. Not that she was really concerned about his whereabouts, but...

She sneaked another quick look around the deck and then headed toward the trapdoor. Kit wasn't on deck, and he wasn't with the small knot of men talking next to the ladder in the upper hold. It didn't matter where he was, of course; just that he might know where it had been placed.

Her breath faltered for a moment, thinking of what she might say to him, but just then a knot of men brushed by her with a rowboat, shouting something about Scypian women, and Alia found herself jumping to the side. Land. Right. No time for anything but to tell Kit and collect their belongings. But tonight, maybe, at an inn...

Alia pressed her lips firmly together and shimmied down the ladder in a hurry. Everything was quiet still, down among the cargo, and the only movement was the flickering of the lamplight between crates. Her feet thumped against the wooden floor in a hurry, somewhere midway between a walk and a jog. She could feel weakness still clutching at her lungs, but she was determined to ignore it.

Things were even stiller on the bottom level, with only the quiet slap and susurration of the waves to break the silence. Alia moved slower now, conscious of the fact that her steps were loud and she still hadn't seen Kit. Sure enough, when she rounded the corner to their little cave, there he sat, cross-legged on a bedroll staring at something in his palms.

"Hi," she blurted, conscious of an over-eager tone to her voice.

He didn't seem to notice. "Alia," he said, glancing up with a warm smile that took the strength right out of her legs again. His eyes gleamed in the light of the lamp.

"I--" For one stupid moment, she thought to tell him of everything she'd been thinking, but then her mind caught up. "I was just looking for the splinter. The sigil."

Kit moved his hands forward wordlessly, and she saw the faintest blue glimmer there around a shadow.

"Oh." She reached to take it, feeling her fingers brush against the calluses of his dry palms, and bit her lip so she wouldn't blurt something stupid. What would I even say to him? How does one announce their intention to... to... become lovers? "Pass the time?"

A sweet smell lingered around them - the yeasty richness of ale, and something else. "Well," he said, suddenly breaking through her thoughts, "show me then."

"What?" she squeaked, stepping back abruptly.

"The magic? I've never had the gift, myself. Not even the most simple charms. But you could use it, surely? What does it do?"

Alia gathered her thoughts, staring back down at the tiny piece of wood in her hand. "Um, it's the sigil for wooden things. I didn't-- I'm not sure what it would do. I didn't think all the way through to the charms we used in Beldara."

No one spoke for a moment as she racked her brain, trying to breathe suddenly. "I think most of our sigils combine different things. The sign for strength and the one for metal--that's for weapons. Or actions: open, seal, glow..."