Chapter 176: Rocky Road

"Eh?" Ned's jaw dropped, not the usual him, but, not the usual words were spoken to him either.

And ICE teased him further by repeating Swift's voice inside his head.

["Marry me."]

["Marry me."]

["Marry me."]

Swift then raised a hand, finally, waving for the server, meekly waiting beside the balcony, to tend for their orders.

Metals clanked, oils sizzled, and murmurs cried in the kitchen somewhere else.

The server, male with braided hair tucked behind by a simple knot, took Swift's order with Ned.

Ned brushed off the surprise. He had eaten bread recently. But, to fully develop his body, protein is what he needed. Roasted meat he ordered. While Swift, took over by her feminine side, gave up on sweets: a cream sprinkled with crumbs of bread swirled inside a bowl. It's what Sasani had said to the server. The server nodded then left the two.

"It's by tradition," Swift said, back against the soft cushion of the chair. "To see the female's body and naked means the two were, engaged, intimate to say the least. But they must be engaged. So... " She trailed off. She doesn't seem to regret the decision that she was getting married to Ned.

"But we are not," Ned said, breaking her thoughts. After Ned spoke those words, she lowered her shoulder. Despondent by Ned's words.

"It is tradition," Swift said, sounding eager, "not just here in Bogblot. Go to the Capital, ladies there would run wild calling their guards. It is either to cease you or force you to marry them."

Ned sighed, he leaned forward and drum his fingers over the wooden table that seemed to be hollow from the inside. Hollow like him, not that he was once a Magic Less, but because he was 'hollow from the inside', he lacks the proper response to this kind of event. Sure, he was once in love, but that's because Kamma was the first to show her that feeling. But now, Ned wasn't sure if this was love anymore, this was forced by tradition, no intimacy, or whatsoever. Ned wasn't ready. His Master's face lingered on his thoughts. The blade stuck on his shoulder down to lungs, maybe his heart. The blood dripping down his forehead, his eyes boring Ned like saying: 'survive', 'live'. His Master lingering on him.

Master, Ned thought. Looking down at the table under his feet, and back to the cause of these emotions.

"I am supposed to tell my father," Swift said, voice muffled under the mask. "Just like Twali bind to an Oath."

"But we are not."

"Yes," Swift said, nodding. Light reflected over her sleek mask. Ned could see her eyes behind those holes. "And yes, you did save me, but no, it wasn't enough to forego the tradition. But, I didn't tell my father, yet. I can let go of this. Although, me thinking of it, you watching me naked... " Swift sighed, warm air exiting around the edges of her mask. "I won't tell a soul, but—"

Footsteps against the wooden floor approached them, it was the server. Carrying a tray of their food. First, come Ned's meat, then the sweets Sasani has taken.

"You do like meat, do you, Ned?" Swift said, her voice wasn't fixed to that of a man, she was being her.

"And you don't?" Ned said in reply.

"No," Swift said, shaking her head. "Too hard to chew on."

"Not unless cooked well," said Ned. "Try rare."

"Rare what?" Swift said, nodding toward the server who stood waiting behind Ned, near the balcony.

"Nothing," Ned said sighing, and looked over his shoulder, back to her. "How would you eat? With the mask on? Surely you don't intend to tuck it under?"

Swift shook her head. As soon as the server left, she pulled the straps behind her head and pull the mask. Ginger hair with a streak of black flurried around her neck and touching her shoulder. Rounded eyes, like dark chocolate, melting looking at Ned. She blushed, must be thinking of the thing. The thing that happened to her.

Ned nodded with a smile and saw Sasani reached for the tiny spoon beside the bowl of her dessert: a cream of white with sprinkles of crushed bread. It even looked enticing by the piece of a leaf placed in the middle of the swirling cream. As for Ned, a steak with dark lines forming tiny gaps of squares, Ned stabbed the fork and an aroma of sweet blended with sour steaming off the meat.

"Surely you didn't bring me here for a steak and tradition, right Swift?"

"No Swift this time," she said, fingering her hair to look neat. "I am what my family had made me to be. Sasani."

"You took off your mask," Ned said, chewing the meat. Surprisingly, it melted on Ned's mouth. "Aren't you afraid of people seeing you here? together with me. An Outlander, as what the hunter had said, and you being Sasani Tarragon?"

"Sasaliani Stormcrag Tarragon," she said with a smile. What was it with the nobles to have seemingly white teeth? "My name, Ned."

"But—"

She waved, then placed the dessert-spoon beside the bowl. She then unstraps the leather locking the clothing on her neck and open it halfway to her chest. She seemed getting accustomed to Ned. Then pulled a necklace that gleamed under the light. "Talisman of Truth," she said, showing the rounded and flat stone to Ned. The stone was forest green in color, clipped in a silver necklace. It shone a faint green light from the inside. Sasani then infused her mana, making the stone spin and stopped after it shone a bright green that almost illuminates the entire room. Luckily, there were none beside them at the far end corner of the tavern.

"With this on me," she said. "No Witches, or Occultist, or Dark Mages or any kind of Moraki's incarnate can curse me."

Talisman of Truth, Ned thought. Eyeing the stone as it kept spinning. It only stopped after Sasani stopped soaking it with her mana. She then tucked it back inside her clothing, button all the way to her neck, and proceeds to finish her dessert.

"Now," she said, slurping the last cream of dessert. Ned had just finished his own. "We will have a lot to talk about."

"And how about the marriage thing you said?"

"It can wait," she said, pushing the bowl to the center of the table, indicating to the servers that she was done with her food. She then leaned forward, frowned, and smiled. Eyeing Ned with her dark rounded eyes. The timid Sasani seemed nowhere to be found. "Now I have a few questions. Tell me about you Ned of O'rriadt. Where did you get the cloak? And why in the Maker's tongue did you destroy the Mana stone?"

Seemed a lot for a few, Ned nodded and pushed the empty plate in the middle. Both ceramics clanked by hitting each edge.

Now she talked like a noble, far from the Swift she knew. Ned leaned forward, forearm resting over the edge of the table, the other, touching the ring on his finger. "The cloak," he said. "Was given by a friend."

Sasani raised an eyebrow. "A friend?" She said, voice toned enviously. "It's either your friend is a veteran hunter skilled enough to skin the ferocious Grade B beast Mag'Kal. Then traveled a thousand Kil, from Depto Sea to Phoenix Ridge and suck the blood out of a Grade B Buulvorg, and patient enough to wait a hundred hours under the scorching heat of Maker only know what kind of volcano it was, and extract the mana of at least a hundred Grade D Kuo-Toas. And after finding a Master Crafter—which by the way, there's only a handful in the Capital in the entire continent of Cassan—this friend of yours just gave the 30, 000 Gold coin, Grabe B item to you. This friend of yours must be generous enough then. Or stupid enough to give you the cloak."

She said it without even having to breathe, not a blink. Ned seemed stunned by the price of the cloak and the beasts it was crafted with. Makers tongue, Ned thought. Lady Darcey, what have you given me?

"I hate to say," she added and assumed that Ned couldn't reply. "But me being a noble was indeed helpful in some ways. It took me hours to find the right person to fully Identify the cloak. The person even traded me three branches of her shop for the cloak."

"Ah," Ned said, brushing the edge of the cloak under the table, "I helped her with something so she gave it to me. I didn't know that time, that this cloak was this expensive."

"Rare, and she?" Sasani cocked an eyebrow, she turned red in some part of her cheeks, especially the soft skin under her eyes. "So you met someone." This, she muttered, still enough for Ned to hear.

"She's a pirate."

Sasani almost jumped off her feet. "Pirate, you say?" She whispered, leaning closer to Ned. Something's different, by the look of her eyes (twinkling with light), she appeared to be aroused. She coughed, retracted away from Ned's face after she saw the server took the soiled plates over the table. She waited for the server to leave and leaned even closer to Ned.

Ned could smell the sweetness of her breath, from the dessert—or was it?—and the warmth of air coming off her mouth. She blushed, realizing that she was too close to Ned that with a single poke, she could fall and kiss Ned in a matter of seconds. Swiftly, she sat back on the cushioned chair. She coughed, clearing her throat together with the redness of her face.

"Also, your eyes," she said, licking the wet of her lips. "They're dusky and very light blue. That color was either you're a Beastman—which you are not—or from the clan of Durarat of the Northern Region—even then, it was rare to have blue eyes in their clan—or... " She stopped, wanted to say something that she doesn't seem to believe. "Or you have a very deep and long line of the long lost tribe of Batha'la."

"Batha'la?" Ned's brow frowned.

"Batha'la's are said to be directly linked to the Maker," she said, smiling—almost mocking—she that doesn't seem to believe the words coming out from her mouth. "Makers were last seen a thousand, or so, years ago. There's a passage in a book called 'Words of the Lost'. I've read some of the passages, they translated. It was more of a journal than a book. It says:

'They were like Us'

'Vast as any ocean there is.'

'Blue as the sky, and clear as any man could have seen.'

'The eyes of a true warrior.'

'We thought them magic. The tribe they called themselves Batha'la.'

'Funny how they looked like Tah's of the lost Belt.'

Sasani raised a finger, trying to prove a point. "And the rest," she said, "the Scholars of Griffith were not able to translate the rest of the book."

"How did you know this, Sasani?" Ned asked, intrigued by the knowledge she has.

"When I was eight," she said, looking like she remembered the bitter part of her life. Her eyes trailed away from Ned. "Father sent me to the Capital to study. And now... I'll be going back... " She sighed. "Anyway, They don't exist. Makers, Batha'las, or any high being there is. They don't exist. So, the closest I could summarise is, you are from the North."

"I am not," Ned said. "And I don't know why my eyes were like this. If it's rare, then why do people don't seemed to care about it—only you, so far. I've seen people, and they don't see me something rare. Just a kid, that is all."

"Arrogance," she said. "Do you think people have time to read myths and lore? People are busy being Hunter, Explorers, traveling, and being... Free. They just, people take whatever seemed plausible, and took it for granted. Red, blue, brown, or even green eyes of elves. People don't care anymore. They wanted something simple, something... "

"Free," Ned said, looking at the sunken eyes of Sasani. A tiny, almost unnoticeable, liquid emerged from the tip of her eyes. "You wanted to leave, to be free, to be yourself, that's why you wore the mask. Just like pirates, you wanted to be somewhere far. Not here. But far, far from Bogblot, far from the people with great anticipation about you, far from your House."

She couldn't hold it. She cried. Tears ran from her cheeks, her shoulder shuddered. "Yes." Was all she could utter.

[You need to console her, Ned.]

ICE chimed with, somewhat, a voice that seemed so sad.

Ned stood, pushing the chair backward and rounded up to Sasani. He wasn't like this, he shouldn't be here, he must be somewhere else looking for Roy, looking for any help that could extract the Mark off his body. But, no. Sasani needed someone now. Ned moved to the side of Sasani and rested a hand over her shoulder. Ned could feel the warmth under the leather jacket she wore, she could feel the sadness, the longing for something, the urge she has borne, to leave and be free.

Sasani whipped over Ned's hand, and he could feel the tears running over the end of his fingers. Ned held Sasani's shoulder, wasn't sure if it was the right way, but still, he gripped her shoulder. With a thought, he flicked his free hand.

"Here," he said, reaching for Sasani, giving the Rocky Road Ice cream.