First Meeting

They were both new to Erion, both new to the Furia.

Rakah had taken note of the others in his group, trying to peg each one for their chosen weapon and the amount of skill they would display. Some he could tell immediately would wash out before they even got to basic training, others may last longer but were clearly only in it for the money and the glory. One or two showed a fervour that bordered on the manic, more likely founded by a royal obsession than any real desire to protect anyone.

And then there was Cash — though Rakah didn’t learn his name until much later. He was standing at the back of the group, and only after several minutes did Rakah realise the smaller man was deliberately keeping himself there. As the others moved about the training grounds, checking out the weaponry and their fellow trainees slash opponents, the man with the eye patch and the tattoos scrawled across his face kept his head down and his shoulders hunched. His navy pea coat was a size too large and his katana — when Rakah finally managed to catch a glimpse of it, the sheath tarnished with age — drooped from the ties around a cracked leather belt. His thick black boots were untied, the laces of one snapped in half and the other gone altogether.

Rakah might have assumed him another one of those signing on for the money. Not all of the would-be Furia here were poor, but even the middle classes and lower nobles fell out of favour or got cut off from their funds by too many ill-advised nights spent in the taverns of the Lower Wards. Erion was no different from his home town of Saenaeldor in eastern Ceylonia, and Rakah had quite the reputation of his own there. He could recognise the sort, yet the Yndira didn’t fit.

He was quiet, rather than brash. Ignored those who tried to introduce themselves, turning away as if deaf and focusing on something right next to him as if he had invisible company. One of the others said something that pinched the Yndira's lips at the corners, his shoulders pitching up in a spasm that he consciously thwarted until they were huddled back in the sleeves of his coat again.

Offended by the man ignoring her, the woman who had spoken — a local, judging by the style of her clothes and the blonde hair — stomped into the Yndira's space. She snapped her fingers under his nose, her other hand slotting over the hilt of the ornate dagger tucked into her waistband. Cash blinked at her but said nothing, merely taking half a step back to maintain some distance. He glanced to his right as if that invisible person had spoken, the corner of his lips quirking so briefly, Rakah might have missed it if he hadn't been paying attention.

The Vanir’s fingers tightened on her dagger, skin pulling tight around her mouth. Deciding to head off the coming skirmish before it could get started, Rakah slithered in front of her and used his tail to shove her out of his way. Slinging one bare arm across the Yndira's shoulders and ignoring the solemn stare he received in return, Rakah bared his fangs at the woman.

“Wouldn’t be causing trouble our first day, would you, Jani?” Rakah squeezed his hand on Cash’s pea coat in warning. The Yndira remained silent, glancing to his right as if bored with the real people and preferring his invisible friends.

“Take it you haven't heard, then.” Jani's head tilted back so she could look down her nose at him. Rakah was deliberately looming over her, though, having uncoiled his tail to look taller. He’d done it partly to intimidate her, and partly so he could tuck the smaller man under his arm without having to strain.

“Let’s assume I haven’t.”

Jani's top lip curled. She jabbed a finger at Cash's chest. If Rakah's tail wasn’t in the way, he was sure she would have bruised the Yndira’s sternum with the effort. “He’s a demon.”

Cash spoke for the first time. “Half, thank you.” His drawl was unsurprisingly foreign, though not entirely because he was Yndira. The tattoos on his face glowed faintly as if he was repressing the urge to cast a curse on the Vanir, his shoulders tense under Rakah’s arm. He didn’t flinch away, though, and Rakah took that as the thanks he would likely never voice.

“Half, full. What’s the difference? He’s Virial, all the same!”

Rakah tucked his chin so he could eye Cash sideways. “So you’re only half Yndira?”

The pea coat bunched between Cash’s shoulder blades. His mouth adopted that pinched look again. “So what if I am?”

Rakah ignored the venom and flashed his fangs again, this time from a broad smile. “I figure it’s good to know what your team-mates can do. So what’s the other half, then? Vask? You don't have the horns, so I doubt it's Undr.”

Cash eyed him silently for one heartbeat, two. Three. Four. “Kyri.”

“Ah! I see, I see. So I'm guessing your friend over there’s not actually imaginary, then?”

Cash glanced over his right shoulder, following the jerk of Rakah's thumb. He turned back to peer at Rakah, faint creases between his eyebrows. His shaggy brown hair tickled Rakah’s bare arm where it was still slung over his shoulders. “Not imaginary, no.”

“Great! You'll have to introduce me later.” Said introduction would be sadly one-sided, but they could work with that.

Rakah squeezed the Yndira's hand again, then blinked at Jani as if he had forgotten she was even there. “Sorry, was there something you needed?”

Jani’s mouth turned into an ‘O’ he would otherwise find alluring. Her fist spasmed around the hilt of her dagger and Rakah fixed his gaze on the weapon, readying for the worst. She frowned up into his eyes, then glanced at Cash as if assessing her chances. Peered at the others in their group but found none of them willing to stand with her. Rakah was sure they would all take their jabs at Cash over the coming weeks, but if the Valerian — the man responsible for their being hired — had no problems with a half-Virial in their midst, then the other Furia shouldn’t either.

When Jani finally stepped away and ducked into the centre of the group where she could lose herself in the throng of bodies to wait for their instructor's arrival, Rakah loosened his grip on the Yndira’s shoulder and coiled his tail up under himself. He pulled back and stuck out his hand.

Cash stared at it silently. Tipped his head to one side as if conferring with his invisible friends. Looked up into Rakah's red eyes, scanned the length of him from the tip of his thick green tail to the hip-length red curls bouncing wildly across his bare arms. Studied the geometric tattoos revealed by the ‘V' of his sleeveless white tunic.

“Imui Rakah. You can shake my hand, you know. Only the fangs are venomous.” He grinned again, putting said fangs right back on display, and wiggled his fingers in the space between them.

Cash looked at his hand, wiped his own on the worn wool of his leggings, and shook.

“You got a name or do I have to guess?” When the Yndira hesitated again, Rakah tugged back his hand and tapped his finger to his lips. “Hmmm. Marin? Jaden? Irran? Miri? You look like a Castar to me.”

Cash’s lips twitched. Rakah wasn’t sure why until he finally revealed his name. “Azella Cash.”

“Well, I was almost right.”