To Paxaria: part 9.1

Review: Ruelle, unexpectedly apprenticed to a healer in Paxaria, arrives in the capital city of Eldgamel where her mentor Altha has her residence. They arrived in the city in the evening, and ran into a Gnome named Twila who was unconscious and in need of medical treatment. Just when Altha and Ruelle were about to administer treatment, Twila's overprotective aunt showed up and stubbornly refused to allow Altha to use the Elven treatment on Twila. To Ruelle's shock, the superstitious aunt teleported away with Twila before Altha could dissuade her. Now, with nothing they can do to help Twila any further, Ruelle and Altha head on to Altha's home. Here Rue gets her first introduction to where her new life will take place, and someone unexpected shows up.

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Altha and Ruelle continued down the city streets in comparative quiet until Altha pulled to a stop at what appeared to be a local stable.

“I’m afraid we will have to abandon our good horse and do our own carrying from here,” Altha said, climbing down from the cart and handing the reigns to the young man who came up to greet them. “There isn’t room enough to house large animals on the street where I live, as you will see shortly. But it is not far to walk, and I think the two of us can make it, with no more than we’ve got.”

Ruelle surveyed the area with a quick glance, taking in as much as she could in the deepening evening light. This was somewhat new to her. Back in Whispertide, while her family had always lived near a town, they were still situated enough in the countryside that each household had plenty of space for their own animals.

“Don’t worry,” Altha said, seeing Ruelle’s uncertain frown. “The local stables have plenty of room out back for the animals to have their freedom.”

This relieved Ruelle a good deal. She liked animals, and hadn’t been thrilled with the thought of people’s horses having to live in quarters as cramped as some of the houses she had seen on a few of the streets already.

It took only a few minutes to get the horse unhitched and the cart taken off to the cart house just to the side of the main stable. In the meantime, Altha and Ruelle worked out the best way to divide up their belongings for the short walk home. Ruelle had never been so glad she’d arrived in Paxaria with as little as she did.

Their steps took them down a street lined with rows of narrow buildings on both sides. Each wood-and-stone structure was two stories high, and warm light glowed out of several windows, mostly on the upper levels.

“This is our street,” Altha announced.

Ruelle’s brow furrowed. “These are houses?” she asked dubiously. “Everyone has a wooden sign outside, so I thought they were shops.”

Altha smiled, coming to a stop at a door near the end of the street. “They are both,” she said. “Most people have their homes upstairs, while they run their businesses in the space downstairs.”

Ruelle looked about with curiosity. She had seen buildings like this in other towns, of course, but she’d given little thought to how the whole space was purposed. She had never needed to until this moment, when she found herself wondering how she was meant to take up residence on a street where there were only shops.

Altha set the load she was carrying down on the steps where they’d stopped, fished out a key hung around her neck, and inserted it in the lock. This was new to Ruelle, too. No one she knew in Whispertide locked their doors.

“Well, here we are,” Altha declared, pushing the door open. She reached inside and retrieved a lamp which conveniently waited on a small table right inside. As soon as she lit it, the darkness of the space ahead receded, giving Ruelle the first glimpse of her new residence.

On the right stood a small fireplace next to shelves that lined the wall. These were neatly organized with bandages, jars, and delicate glass vials, some holding powders or liquids Ruelle could not begin to identify. There was also a sturdy chest with little drawers, each labeled in Altha’s neat handwriting, no doubt holding more medical supplies and instruments. 

A table with a chair and a washbasin took up an unobtrusive position against the far wall, while to the left of the clinic, there were cots for patients to be examined and treated. And immediately on the left, right inside the door, a bench provided a place for others to sit and wait.

“Set your things down, and I will show you around,” Altha invited, adding, “Not that there is an abundance of space to show, but it is decent.”

Ruelle followed the older woman to the door at the far end of the clinic, which led to Altha’s personal living quarters. 

The greater part of that space was the kitchen area, featuring a modest cookstove, a round table with three chairs, and some neat wooden shelves for storage. The array of dried herbs hung overhead gave a slight tingly, earthy scent. On the left of the room, a curtained off section provided the illusion of a separate bedroom space. A single window – currently shuttered – closed out the night and the city beyond.

Everything here was simple, practical, tidy. The place boasted little in the way of decorative items or personal touches. The only things which stood out to Ruelle were an embroidered pillow on one of the chairs, and two bright peacock feathers, crossed like an x, displayed on one of the walls. Their jewel-toned shades seemed to whisper of a grandeur that mismatched this otherwise unassuming commoner’s home, hinting at a world and a life beyond these walls.

“Where does this go?” Ruelle wondered, following curiosity’s pull to the door at the back.

“See for yourself,” Altha said, setting out to put her things away.

Ruelle undid the inside latch and reached for the knob. She expected to find a pantry or a supply closet.

Instead, she flung the door open on a shadowy figure crouched in a narrow back street.

Ruelle jumped and stifled a cry of alarm.

The figure leapt to his feet.

“Give a warning, wouldn’t you?” The accusatory voice snapped. “You about scared me out of my skin!”

Her, scare him? That was irony indeed! 

Ruelle opened her mouth to say as much, ready to lash out, to demand that this lurker explain the reason for sneaking around Altha’s back door in the dark. But she was interrupted by a laugh.

It was youthful and almost merry, not dark or sinister, and most out of place given the circumstance. It caught Ruelle off guard.

“Well, well, of all the things!” the voice said, sounding extremely amused. “Look who it is! I never would have guessed.”

Ruelle squinted out into the semi-darkness. Why was that voice strangely familiar?

“So,” the speaker went on, “How do you like Eldgamel, Rue?”

The pieces fell together all at once. 

Ruelle’s eyes widened, and she gaped in astonishment.

“Gaius?”