Fragments of a Wanderer: Sage and Soot

Fayen Salvia, an Elven wanderer and magicker, found themself in the bustling city of Altura. 

It appeared, on the surface, wholly uninviting. Incessant overcast skies meant even the finest details were stained gray. Its rivers, which might’ve been admired for their natural beauty, were often fetid with pollution. No amount of architectural ingenuity—which, indeed, the city prided itself in, with its careful layout and elaborate brickwork—or steam-powered technological curiosities could alleviate these flaws. It wasn’t an environment that agreed with Fayen, who was more accustomed to the lush forests of their homeland. In spite of this, Fayen recognized Altura as a living, breathing city. A day scarcely went by without them encountering some event or another. All they had to do was walk along the street. The iron-clad will of the populace, and their drive to support their city, was enough to draw Fayen in. 

At first they believed their visit would be short. They didn't have the coin to support themself for long, and they didn’t know what they could offer a city already inundated with workers. One morning, they visited a teahouse located in the quieter southwestern wing of the city. By sheer happenstance, the owner was looking to secure extra help. Fayen took this opportunity gratefully.

With the ability to remain, Fayen could afford to be more diligent in their research of Altura’s magic and culture. Fayen had traveled to many different places, and each one was unique in its magical signatures alone. They were eager to see what Altura might teach them.

While their busy days offered little room for recreation, Fayen didn’t mind. They had everything they could ask for. Their coworkers at the teahouse were good, kind people whom they were becoming close to— as much as they could be close, at least, given the temporary nature of Fayen’s stay. Fayen was also familiar with many of the teahouse’s regulars. Aside from their job, they were free to spend their days as they pleased. It was a relatively peaceful existence. Even when feelings of homesickness overwhelmed them, Fayen wrote letters to send home and was comforted by the prompt replies.

One afternoon, a mechanic arrived at the teahouse to perform maintenance on one of their machines. Fayen kept out of her way as she completed her task. However, after noticing her worn-out state, Fayen surprised themself by offering her tea before she left. To their further surprise, she accepted.

Fayen learned that the mechanic’s name was Emory. Her hair, coal-black and cropped short, matched her dark eyes well. She was dressed in a vest and trousers that were, in a few places, smudged with soot and oil. Most notable was the toolbelt wrapped around her waist that carried a variety of unfamiliar instruments— which she knew how to use quite effectively, if the swift pace at which she worked was any indication.

Although Fayen wanted to ask her many questions, they didn’t know where to start. Emory’s life was a stark contrast to theirs. That was apparent even from the little they had gleaned about her. Maybe it was best to allow her a moment of peace rather than unnecessarily intrude on her affairs. What could they realistically hope to gain from this one meeting, anyway?

When Emory took her leave, Fayen assumed they would never see each other again. This assumption was soon proven wrong. She returned hardly a week later: not for work, but for leisure.

Over time, their acquaintance gradually blossomed into a comfortable friendship, and then to something else entirely. Fayen began to cherish her more than they anticipated. Under different circumstances they might’ve been pleased by that realization; in the course of their life, it had been rare for Fayen to feel that way towards anyone. Yet, they could not deny the truth. When their research was complete, Fayen would quit this city and find somewhere new to study. It was what they had planned to do. It was what they must do. Altura was familiar to them now, but it would never feel like home. Except, it was where Emory lived. How could they abandon her? Even if their choices were limited, Fayen couldn’t stand idly by and pretend to forget what had happened between them.

Once Fayen’s departure was at hand, they made her a promise. Though they couldn’t meet her in person regularly, they would do everything in their power to keep in contact. She resolved to do the same.

Many years passed, but they kept their promise.

Part of Fayen knew they would retire from their research one day. It was certainly fulfilling work, but it exhausted them more than they cared to admit. It could not be forever. More and more often, they longed for a gentler life. When that yearning began to be too much, they understood that something had to change.

Fayen returned to Altura. To Emory. Older and wiser, perhaps they could find a way to be happy together, if Emory reciprocated their feelings. Or perhaps not. It might be too late to hope for such an ending, but how could they know if they didn’t try?

 

--- Author's notes ---

Word count: 858 words

Prompt: #100, Romance Novel

TL;DR buzzwords/themes: slow burn, steampunk, opposites attract

Thank you for reading!

The prompt told me I should write a synopsis, so I decided to (vaguely) plot out an entire epic spanning three arcs, as one does. What can I say? I like romance, both reading and writing it. I tried my best to keep my writing succinct while also making it engaging enough to give a picture of what the full version might be like.

This story IS canon to Fayen's (and hopefully PaperDemon) lore. My thought was that, once they gained the ability to go through portals, they'd take up a life of exploring. Altura is a random city from a random portal that they discovered.

If you're curious about the title: Sage = Fayen (the plant, and "wise person"), Soot = Emory (she's a mechanic, and it matches her dark hair and eyes).