Master's Journey: Stranger in the Stacks #11 (Patreon)

Author's Note: Back in the saddle. With my insurance situation mostly dealt with, stitches out, and pain subsiding, I'm getting back to getting things out. Starting with a new Stacks!

[story]

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‭Despite the urge to rest, though, you find yourself in greater need of activity and socialization. Your free spirit has spent too long in a cell to go straight to bed now, not when there are still things to do and people to talk to. There’s one person in particular that you’ve been meaning to get into closer contact with, too – your guide to this place, K’vin. They may be strange, but strange is interesting, and they’ve been drinking long enough to have loosened up plenty.

“Cheers, Kiv,” you call gently as you slide into the barstool next to them, flashing a toothy smile and letting your legs dangle from the high seat. “The bevvin’ going well?”

“Ku, so it is,” they smile softly in your direction, and you can see whatever K’vin’s drinking (a clear green drink in a squat glass, with a few dark red berries floating in it) is taking its toll. Their ocean-blue eyes are slightly glazed, though they retain a certain alertness that tells you the strange human has some experience at holding their drinks. “It is uncommon a place offers a taste of my homeland, it keeps me returning.”

“Your homeland,” you echo them, musing for a moment, and taking a longer look at them. K’vin’s strange fashion and accent mark them as explicitly foreign, but you still have no clue where from. They have a curious appeal, though, something unique in feature and demeanor alike, at once beautiful and handsome, like an old painting or statue. An ancient sort of beauty. “You haven’t told me about it. Not that we’ve exchanged much more than a short chinwag, I admit, but I’m curious... if you wanna tell me about it, anyway.”

“There is much to tell,” K’vin says, their voice growing a little softer, “and very little. But, p’av, none to say without drink in hand. Come, come.”

“Afraid I’m cleaned outta sems, luv,” you offer an awkward shrug, but leave a hint of suggestion in your voice that you’d be open to something free.

“Ah, ku’o, so you are,” they nod, then call Duggan over, ordering two more of what they’re already drinking, then swiftly finishing the one they had in hand. It’s something called mai’qaf, though the name means nothing to you. Duggan returns a few moments later, tired and grumbling, but with the pair of translucent emerald beverages in hand. “A good sip, for you,” K’vin nods, sliding the second of the two over to you.

Looks weird, but fuck it, you’ll try anything once. “Bottoms up, then,” you toast, then take a long drink from the glass, and find it to be… fairly unpleasant, actually. It’s scandalously tart and overwhelmingly herbaceous, and you’re certain you’ve had engine fuels that were better balanced. You do your best to hide your wince, but fail, and earn a giggle from K’vin.

“It takes some getting used to,” they smirk, sipping casually from their own glass. “But you asked of my homeland, pa se.”

“Well, I wanna get to know you better, s’all,” you shoot a flirty grin back to them. A flutter of recognition in K’vin’s eyes suggest that they understand your intentions, though they grow neither warmer nor cooler towards you. Hard to get, maybe.

“Ku, and so I shall assist. I am from Fah’r.”

“Well I sorta figured you weren’t a local, yeah.”

They seem confused a moment, then realize the misunderstanding. “No, no – a land called Fah’r, a great way east-wise, where swamp meets coast, and coast shatters into islands. A beautiful place, grand houses built on stilts to hold them above the water, rope bridges connecting everything like a spider’s web. But I am not shocked by your unfamiliarity. Expansion and war has left Fah’r a broken place, and many of its children refugees, as I am.”

“War? War with who?”

“First it was the Crawling Folk, but once we were weakened, many other neighbors joined the feast, taking pieces of my homeland until none was left.” They frown deeply, then shrug – whatever wound this tragedy has left has clearly become a scar, though it makes you wonder exactly how old K’vin is… and if they're actually human at all. Still, seems like a question for later.

“Lookit us, then, ‘ey? Couple outcasts with nowhere to go back to,” you chuckle darkly, taking another sip of the mai’qaf, and you notice that K’vin is right – it does grow on you, however slowly. As you push past the sourness, the flavor of the spices and herbs become more distinct. Still sucks, though. “But I suppose we’ll be seein’ more than a little of each other from now on, assuming this is your watering hole of choice. Just got a job here at the Lantern, for however long it lasts.”

“Ah! Ve num! I shall look forward to seeing you again, then. I admit, I was not expecting to make a friend today,” K’vin smiles, air-toasts their drink, then downs it, turning their attention fully back to you. “Especially not such a… cute one, yes? But I am glad we have met, ah… Iris, a-ku?”

“Iris, that’s right,” you finish your own drink, not especially wanting to, but also not wanting to be shown up.

“Perhaps our next… shim… jimwa–” they quickly give up any attempt to copy your vernacular, and continue, “Perhaps our next talk will be longer. For now, though, the sun is swallowed by sky, and I am deep into glasses, so shall return to where I live.”

“You can crash with me, if you need to,” you offer playfully, but they seem resolute.

“I am hazak, yes, but not too much so, I shall be as safe as anyone can be in the Stacks.” They smile, leaning over to you and planting a soft smooch on your cheek, then forehead. Then, K’vin stands, waving a silent farewell to Duggan before sauntering out of the Fat Lantern for the night. Perhaps it’s for the best… you have a big day tomorrow, after all.

Swaying up towards your own room, you find it a little… tight for your liking. This clearly isn’t a place intended for long stays, but it does have a powered bath, a cramped bed, and a nice, creaky floor for you to dump all your stuff onto for the night. Tomorrow, Vauntreux’s gonna learn who it just set loose.