015 – The Night Market

015 – The Night Market

“—now that we’re past the Beta and in the official release, I’m noticing even more that the devs have put some thought into the in-game NPC languages. The local Varrans seem to define the wildlife broadly by the threat they pose. Theropods and other ‘sharp teeth and want to eat me’ reptiles are ‘wyr’. Wyrms, in plain English. Reptiles that aren’t interested in eating you are ‘ga’, no English loan word. There seems to be much more nuance, but that’s the gist of it that we can see so far.”

—Player [Drakecroft], future leader of Lorehounds [wiki], August 2117.

​Ai was starting to feel hungry when Karravar Benessel politely kicked her out of his commandeered command tent that evening.

​“Ayle. I must ask you to leave Sarila and I to ourselves tonight. We require solitude to prepare for tomorrow’s ritual,” Benessel said, his voice stiff with a formality that went beyond his usual demeanor. He stood by the entrance of the tent, firm and upright even with bandages covering his entire torso. “Sarila and I will each undergo ritual purification tonight to ensure the new Ve’un’s permanence.”

​During their journey to Outpost Avna, Benessel had cast fresh Ve’un several nights in a row. The key difference between those and the Ve’un he was preparing for now, was that the earlier barriers had only needed to last the night and so weren’t anchored into a proper wardstone. Tomorrow’s would be.

Avna’s new Ve’un was an order of magnitude more complex, as it needed to be layered on top of the settlement’s existing barrier, while expanding into new territory, while potentially remaining stable for dozens, hundreds, perhaps thousands of years.

Anchored Ve’un were theoretically permanent, as long as the wardstone remained intact. Avna’s current Ve’un qualified, having likely been here since when the area was still called Gihn. Even the one in the caves beneath the fortress of New Gihn felt like it was several thousand years old, at least.

When the Grand Coalition of Frontline Guilds had first formed at the onset of Titanomachy, it was under the shared goal of creating a system where Ve’un could be freely and conveniently anchored across the entire continent. That, and getting the sure-to-be massive rewards—in Semblance increases and other material rewards—from the game’s first and only World Quest.

As long as a mage connected a new wardstone to the existing network of Ve’un, they could make any place in the world safe from the Veh for good. The Coalition would end the brutal survival focus that A Dirge for the Sun was famous for, and in doing so enforce a new peace onto the player base. A new metagame.

Ai’s creation of the god-engine Nor had completed the World Quest and established the network in truth. Not only would the network grow larger with each new wardstone added to its web, but each individual Ve’un connected to it would grow stronger as more wardstones were added. With Nor as its conceptual and metaphysical foundation, the entire system would be a self-reinforcing shield of the Sun to protect not only all mankind, but every thinking being of Varrah.

At least, that was Ai’s intent.

With how complicated the Varran bureaucracy had made the Ve’un, she was very interested in how the modern form had grown beyond her designs. But if push came to shove, she could just steal a look while it was actually being cast tomorrow morning. In fact, that was what she would do, since both Sari and Benessel were going to be busy for the evening.

​“I understand,” Ai nodded. “I’ll leave you to it.”

​Benessel offered a curt nod and disappeared back into the tent. A moment later, the flap opened again, and Sari emerged. The young Aspirant looked relieved to see Ai, a haggard expression on her face.

​She shuffled up to Ai, holding out a small wyrmleather sack that jingled with coins.

​“Miss Ayle,” Sari, looking at her boots, “Since Master Benessel and I are indisposed for the evening, he wanted you to have this. Our agreement was for three square meals a day, after all.”

​“He didn’t have to do that,” Ai said, though a part of her was relieved. There hadn’t been any precious metals or any coinage in the tomb with her, so she was effectively penniless and didn’t relish the thought of having to figure out a way of earning her meal tonight through less straightforward means.

“There’s supposed to be a night market along the western path down the river. Please, go enjoy yourself. I’m stuck reciting prayers until dawn.”

​“Thanks, Sari. And please thank Benessel for me. Good luck with the purification and the, um, praying, I guess?”

In response, Sari narrowed her eyes in a mock scowl before she smiled, bowed, and scurried back into the tent to prepare for the ritual.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

​Ai weighed the coin sack in her hand, then looked down at Aru. The lizard-dog looked up, his tongue lolling out in a goofy grin.

​“Well, buddy,” Ai murmured, scratching him behind the ears. “Looks like it’s just us tonight. Let’s go see what the locals eat.”

Aru woofed in agreement, happy to finally be getting some food in his bottomless pit of a belly.

The night market of Outpost Avna was bustling with activity.

Soldiers in off-duty tunics mingled with local Gihn laborers, their voices blending into a joyful buzz in the cool desert evening. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of roasting meats, a cacophonous blend of unfamiliar spices, and a good-natured cheer that permeated the streets.

​In Ai’s old life, “dinner” meant browsing a digital menu on a screen, choosing a prepackaged item, and waiting for the megabuilding’s automated delivery system to drop off her most certainly 99% synthetic meal into the delivery chute. As she wandered the night market, she couldn’t help but remember the sheer magnitude of flavor that Beaky’s stew had had, just a few nights ago. Aru trotted happily at her side, his nose twitching as he sampled the air.