Zhadmeir Bound - Chapter 1

Ayanami spent her fair time working at the castle until she had raised sufficient enough funds for the trip to Zhadmeir. She had worked hard and the Queen gave her very generous wages.

On her days off she earned extra money by going off into the forests and killing animals to sell their pelts at the markets. She managed to trade some for weapons and the others went into gold and other valuable items. The money of Haldor would be meaningless over seas, she figured. She couldn't count on it and so she carried her fortunes in items.

And today was the day that she would say goodbye. She had told Felina ahead of time that she would be leaving first thing in the morning, once the sunlight washed over the tree tops. She found no sleep in her servant quarters that night. She lay in bed, staring at the inside of a thatched roof. She was nervous. It was the farthest she was ever going to be from home---a distance that was hard to come back from. Out in the woods with Kyoji, she could have left at any moment, really. She could have gone home if she really tried. She just didn't. She didn't want to. But to go overseas to Zhadmeir. This was truly an adventure. And looking at it in the sense of adventure was the only way she could comfort herself.

Tashoku used to tell her stories when she was little and still clung close to him in the den they used to share under the other Orianna's house. He would talk about when he roamed with the gypsies and what sort of trouble he would get into. He spoke about the people he met along the way and the binds he narrowly escaped. He would talk about his mother, her grandmother, and the plains of Ehdis where they came from originally. So many stories. She never had any of her own.

This was her opportunity. She could create her own story. She had bought a book and decided to write it all down, as De'aris had done when he met Ray. The couple she regarded like uncles had been creative in recording their lives. She wanted to do the same.

The rooster crowed. Dawn was approaching. She picked up her things, a leather sack, full of valuable trade items and, an armful of pelts. She was dressed in boys clothes, which made her seem younger than she was. She was used to wearing traditionally male clothing because it was always more practical for her in the past. Ian condoned that sort of behavior. A trained woman was a defenseless one, he would say. Society taught their women to be helpless and dependent. He preferred seeing Ayanami training with Tidius---learning to fight for herself.

A long braid of blond hair lay neatly bound on the bedside table. It had a small note attached to it addressed to Felina and signed as Marian Ette. It was a simple note of cryptic goodbye and saying that she would write once she was there under the name of Sierro Mahryl, the boy who would be enlisting in the Zhadmeir army.

She lit no candles to see her path through the murky pre-dawn darkness. She crept silently, as she had learned from Kyoji, through the grounds of the palace. Guards were no problem, usually weak of mind, and her athletic build had no trouble scaling the tall walls with a little help from her magic. She was off into the night like a stray cat, wandering towards some unknown destiny.

By the time she reached the docks it was morning, though hazy and gray. There were few people shopping and most of the stand-owners had not yet started setting out their goods. She prowled around. A few people looked at her curiously, unable to determine a definite gender from her face. She was not overly feminine nor was she masculine. She had a comfortably androgynous body once she wrapped down her breasts and cut her hair. It was when she spoke that gave her away. Her voice wasn't too high or too low. It, too, was androgynous... but to the keenest ear, it might be obvious. Thankfully, a keen ear to her did not mean a human ear. It would require a little more observance than what a human would be able to provide.

The line between early morning and morning was blurred by the over cast clouds, threatening light rain. People were starting to crowd into the streets. She heard the familiar Haldorian talk of this and that and the Queen. There were the familiar races, accents, and smells of Haldor. She tried to take it all in, the dull sunlight off the white stones of buildings. It would be a long time before she would see home again.

When most of the traders had set up their stands and booths to hock their goods and miracle cures, she wove in and out of them asking who would go to Zhadmeir. She was willing to offer a fine payment for her passage but they were hesitant.

"Thar's a war goin' on there, lad. No 'mount o'gold could get me t'take ye there. Fin' someone else," rasped one sailor selling glass stones as precious gems.

Introducing herself as Sierro, she moved from stand to stand. Anything that looked like it might have come from Zhadmeir warranted questioning if the ship was headed that way again anytime soon. But for the most part she met with failure.

Taking lunch on a stone wall on the land-favoring end of the docks, she watched the trade traffic bustle about. She munched on a piece of bread she had swiped. "This is going to be a rough task," she mumbled to herself.

A hand set down on her shoulder. "Why, you're pretty enough to make a straight man gay," drawled a smooth voice.

Ayanami wheeled around, ready to fight. Instead she stared into alluring golden eyes and tousled dark red hair. "Jetta," she said warily. Though her eyes narrowed in a suspicious way, he had helped her before---or as much as he could. It was foolish to trust a Demon even if he had been 'nice' to her in the past. She grew up around him, essentially.

"What brings you to the docks?" Jetta flopped down lazily next to her.

She knew better than to lie. There was more to Jetta's powers than he let on. It was that way with all Demons. They were deceiving like that. "Looking for a ship to Zhadmeir."

Jetta sat back, phrasing his questions carefully. He could see Ayanami was up to something and certainly didn't want to be the spoilsport that ruined all her fun. He was always down for a good deception.

"What's your name?" He asked her congenially.

"Sierro Mahryl." She stated it as though it should be obvious.

"Well, Sierro, my boy," he said with a particularly cheerful grin, "you're in luck. You've just enlisted the aid of the best dock-crawler around! My name's Jetta." He stuck out a long-fingered hand for a 'first-time' handshake. Ayanami shook his hand, if cautiously.

Ayanami studied him carefully. Well, he had worked for Zanther for quite some time and considerably lowered the spending of the Inn. He was, no doubt, good at what he did---which was haggling and trading and deceiving.

A few short moments passed before Jetta was ready to go. This was more of a challenge than finding the best pricing on brandy---and it was an opportunity to be late to work. He'd even have a very long, but true, story to tell. It was fantastic!

His pale fingers snaked around her wrist. Before she realized it, he was yanking her forward back into the sea of people. They plunged deeper and deeper, heading for the far end of the dock. It was laborious and occasionally they were pried apart by hurrying buyers rushing off to the next great deal. But eventually they made it and found themselves in the shadow of a great big banner reading "Exotic Spices, Animals, and Cloth". Essentially, they were spice traders but the entire end of the dock was stacked high with wooden crates and cages of all kinds of animals. It smelled like urine and excrement, though laced with a certain under-scent of whiskey. Jet black feathers stuck out of a wiggling box that groaned and grumbled in a bird-like fashion. The writing on it was in foreign symbols leaving her to guess at its contents.

Jetta strolled easily through the crates, never getting dirty despite the filth of the area. He struck up a conversation immediately with the captain, who was on the docks with the rest of crew minding their possessions. Ayanami couldn't hear what they were saying but by the cheerful expression on the captain's face, he seemed to be a friend of Jetta's. This was looking up.

Ayanami decided to let Jetta handle the situation. In the mean time she browsed the merchandise. There were some strange sheep-like creatures. They would have been exactly like sheep if not for the dragon feet and scaly faces. There were monkies, parrots, and a pen of young white fawns---just like Saiya, Ori's white doe. It made Ayanami think of home.

Quickly moving from that thought she continued on but was no happier. She looked at the many bolts of expensive and fine fabric. They were beautifully colored with intricate gold designs sewn in depicting strange birds with giant fanning tails or fish fighting against a swirling current. This only made her think of Verthandi.

Sighing heavily she caught up with Jetta in time to hear the tail end of the conversation.

"C'mon, he's my nephew," pleaded Jetta with outstretched arms. "He's young, true, but he's strong and capable. He catches on fast enough."

The gruff captain folded his arms across his barrel chest, glowering through busy gray eyebrows at Jetta, who was surprisingly shorter than he. "I don't know... It's rough waters from here to there, and riddled with pirates."

"Pirates!" Jetta laughed. "Well, I hardly think you need to worry about pirates," he gave the captain a knowing look with a half-cocked smirk. The captain seemed unamused.

"I can pay you." Ayanami stepped up next to Jetta, shifting the pelts from one arm to the next wearily. The day was getting warm.

"Thar's not enough money in all the land to---"

Jetta whispered to her quietly, "I didn't know you had MONEY. That would've made it easier."

She dropped her bag down on the money counting table. "Let me show you first," she sternly insisted to the captain.

She took out a small vial of dragon's teeth, a bottle of dark red liquid hand-labeled mermaid's blood. She had the hair from a unicorn, rare enough on its own, and in a small leather pouch, the stone eye of a basilisk. "I can give you all of these for passage to Zhadmeir."

Jetta stared in awe. His fingers fidgeted in his pockets and a lusty glaze crossed his eyes. She had quite a few nice things, apparently.

The captain looked over what she had to offer and picked at his gray and yellow teeth with an overgrown fingernail. "I dunno," he distractedly said. But he wasted no time inspecting the items to ensure the authenticity. Ayanami and Jetta waited for his conclusion.

After a long moment of thinking and pondering, the captain's gray eyes musing over the items displayed, he declared his decision. "Passage'll cost you the unicorn hair, the blood, and the dragon's teeth. It's not worth the danger of the basilisk's eye."

That was fair enough. She nodded and he greedily scooped up his prizes. She returned the eye to her bag and the man's eyes rested on it warily for a moment before tearing away and looking into hers.

"You're right, Jetta... he is young. He's awfully pretty for a young lad."

Jetta shrugged. "Well, I'm awfully pretty for an old lad," he grinned sarcastically.

"Right you are," the captain said without looking at Jetta. He seemed awfully intrigued with this beautiful new boy.

The words Jetta spoke earlier echoed in her mind, "pretty enough to turn a straight man gay." This was going to be a long journey. Her magic could defend her. The captain and crew were all human. The cargo was mindless for the most part---nothing so formidable as dragons or gorgons. But she had hoped to be accepted as male without question and that wasn't going so well.

"Ah well, we shove off in a week. You'd better get your stuff in order if you want to leave on time." The captain turned on the two and sat down at the table with the money box. "We've got some rules on this ship but we'll get to that tomorrow morning."

Jetta looked at Ayanami with a peculiar expression. He didn't say anything but he seemed worried, intrigued, or just plain amused at the situation. Ayanami didn't care. She was finally moving forward in this tale and was content with that.

"Well, Sierro, I suppose this is goodbye. Write to your mother and me when you arrive." He purposely put on a show of an emotional relative. It's not that anyone needed convincing but Jetta was dramatic like that. Though, no one noticed, he was coy enough to cover all bases.

"I will," Ayanami said frowning. Tomorrow she would be known as Sierro in a world where there was no Ayanami anymore. When they hit the ocean she would have to be on guard. Tidius, she remembered, would be proud of her bravery---or so she figured.

Jetta dashed off cheerfully, waving a pale pink square of lace behind him in farewell. The captain ignored him. Ayanami stood next to the captain until addressed.

"Marx, Carlough!!" He bellowed over his shoulder at two scruffy-looking young men. They perked up their sun tanned chapped skin and chronically squinted eyes to the call of their leader. "Yes, sir?" they answered in unison.

"Show this young lad to the bunk chambers!" The captain didn't even bother looking at the two sailors or Ayanami. He was immersed in counting the amount of money they had made that day and how far off it was of their goal.

Marx and Carlough sauntered over, looking for bags or something to carry. However, she had none. Looking baffled at the small amount of personal possessions, which was atypical for someone so young and new, they decided just to show Sierro 'his' bunk.

They crawled over this and that, squeezed through tight areas, and eventually ended up deep within the belly of the gigantic trade ship. The ship, once upon a time, had been pristine and beautiful---stream lined. However, under the grime and mess of its current owners had gone into disrepair. She got the distinct feeling it was like a diamond buried under the compost heap behind the barn; it didn't belong here.

The ship did not have one huge barrack room, but rather individual compartments that housed four to six men each. Coincidentally, all the compartments with men already there were full. She had to be put in a compartment by herself.

It was more relief despite that Marx, a man with short ruddy brown hair and too many freckles, seemed concerned for Sierro and his ability to cope with a new life on the sea. He kept asking if he, Sierro, was going to be alright. Carlough, sun-bleached white hair and a dangerously dark tan, seemed absolutely apathetic to the newcomer.

They left 'him' there to set up for himself.