Inch by Inch

Things changed after the fight with the Oddities.

They didn’t change for the caravan as a whole. It was far from the first attack the wagons had gone through, but for Jay, his team and the workers on their wagon, things changed.

Some of the changes were positive. He was now recognized as he went about his tasks. People waved and went out of their way to be friendly when working with him. He got an extra helping during the lunch service. Kane and he received nicer assignments.

Other changes were more on the negative side. He had headaches every day and spent the first two days after the fight stumbling around. His limbs didn’t seem to want to cooperate with him. Kane was back to daydreaming, all focus gone again. The complaints about his team hadn’t started up again yet, mollified after the fight, but they would soon.

All of his attempts to approach the wagon’s trio of adventurers for advice had gone from unsuccessful to complete failures. Grumbling over the wagon’s three adventurers’ ‘failings’ had grown. It was becoming less gossip and more fact with every day and every mouth it passed through. He was now greeted with hostility by the trio, and for nothing he’d done himself. It wasn’t him spreading the rumors – he didn’t even agree with the gossip!

To make matters worse, Vasily’s ban on training near the wagon had been extended. His team was now required to ask for supervision before they went out!

Not that the ban was an issue at the moment, of course, which led him to the worst change of them all.

Jay jogged down the wooden corridor, ignoring the dull pounding of an incoming headache. It was easier if he was lighter on his feet. Landing heavily or trying to run made the pain worse.

The door to the sleeping quarters, his destination, was closed which wasn’t a surprise. He knocked on the door, timing the thuds to the rhythm in his head. It didn’t help.

Shoes scraped across wood as his knocking disturbed the room’s occupant.

He closed his eyes and waited as they reshuffled something inside. Twenty seconds later, a voice called out, aged and weary from a thousand battles and a hundred wars.

“Com-come in.”

Jay opened the door and slid inside, scowling before he could help it.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Ana said, scowling back. She pushed her bedsheet aside, sliding out of the thin bunk. She reached down, pulling a pair of shoes out from under the bed, and worked her fluffy sock covered feet into them.

Ana looked good. Healthy even. Her shoulder-length hair was neatly brushed and her face clear. She’d always looked a bit delicate given her size, but today was no different from any before the fight.

It was a marked improvement. In the days after the fight, she had looked... rough.

“I guess you aren’t coming for lunch then?" he asked, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Ana pulled a small table towards her, careful not to disturb the full bowl of fruit on top. The bite-sized chunks missing from one of the apples were answer enough for him, but apparently she felt the need to clarify. “No, they said that they would bring it up.”

Jay took a deep breath. “Ana," he began.

“What?” she snapped. “I’m recovering. Word exhaustion.”

It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. He didn’t expect today to go any better than yesterday or the days before, but he had to try.

“You can’t stay in here for the rest of the journey. You aren’t a passenger. Gratitude doesn’t last forever and if you aren’t careful, it’ll turn to scorn.” He nudged the bowl of fruit. People who took advantage of others’ kindness were never liked. His eyes flicked up to the bunk above Ana’s. “Think about your roommate. They’re coming back here every day aft-“

“I cut until I passed out,” Ana ground out. “I didn’t wake for a full day. And when I woke up, everything hurt.”

“That fight was almost a week ago. You don’t have to do a full day’s work, but just showing that you’re tryin-”

Ana smacked her hands against the bunk, cutting him off again. “I helped save the wagon! It’s only been a few days!” She stood, pushing off the bunk. It was a smooth, easy movement and all the proof Jay needed that she was okay again. “You passed out after the battle too! I heard it from Kane and the others. Why are you acting so... so...”

“So what? Reasonable? Diligent? Persistent?”

It wasn’t the smartest thing to say, but he had a headache and her attitude over the last two weeks was starting to get to him.

Ana scoffed. Her mouth flattened into a thin line. She held her hand up, two fingers extended like she was going to poke him. Then she winced. Her fingers trembled, her hand shook, and instead of poking him she settled for clenching her fist, fighting to get control of her arm back.

“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll go back to work - IF, if you tell me now that you aren’t feeling any effects at all. That you’re back to normal.”

Jay eyed her hand warily, but he considered it.

It would be easy to lie. He had headaches still, but they were weaker. They weren’t the throbbing agony that they used to be. He could walk, reach for things and pick them up without stumbling. His vision didn’t slowly grow blurry anymore, fuzz multiplying until it blocked sight of anything else. That only happened for the first day and some of the second. The headache he had at the moment was more normal - it was likely caused by Ana herself more than anything else. He had to constantly listen out as he traveled through the wagon, trying to hear gossip or mention of ‘Surly’ and ‘Dozy’ before Vasily could. It was only a matter of time before it started up again, and he needed to nip that in the bud this time. No one got the chance to make a third impression.

It would be a white lie. A small one that was barely a lie at all. If Ana did just an hour a day it would be appreciated. It wasn’t the work itself that was important; it was showing that she was grateful for the days off, for being taken care of, for the delivered meals. Even if Ana could barely do that, letting people see her make the attempt would be plenty. It was showing respect to everyone else on the wagon. Respect that might be returned. Respect wasn’t something that would give immediate rewards, but somewhere down the line it might be a recommendation, a suggestion, a story told about them.

It could help.

But lies built a terrible foundation. Respect would do no good if Ana didn’t trust him. If their team collapsed before it could begin.

Jay closed his eyes. “Just think about it.”

It wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“Get out.”

He left.

| i i i ¦ i i i | i i i ¦ i i i |

Kane didn’t look as Jay set his plate down.

There wasn’t one area in the wagon to have lunch. Space was at too much of a premium on the working wagon to dedicate a large enough area for a cafeteria. There were dining areas on the passenger wagons, but those were open all day and night, serving as lounges for the guests. On their wagon, the working wagon, people ate at their stations, on the roof or outside on the ground if the ever-changing terrain gave them something nice. Currently, that last choice wasn’t an option. The caravan was traveling across a giant pond and while the water only reached shin high, no one wanted to sit in it for lunch. Giant patches of orange weed grew out of the water here and there, but they didn’t look solid enough to stand on. No word had been passed down about the weeds being Oddities, but it was best not to risk it anyway.

Most of the time, he and his team liked to eat on the roof. It was easy to reach from any part of the wagon, which was helpful when they didn’t know where they’d be working every day. They usually spent the last hour of lunch training too. Unlike the interior of the wagon, there was space on the roof to leave their weapons as they ate. It saved some time running back and forth.

But, if Jay was to be honest, it was also because he wasn’t used to the shifting environment yet. Every day was different. Sometimes the world around them changed multiple times in a few hours. It was fascinating. Before the swarm, Ana and he would spend lunch staring out, pointing at the weirdest things they could see. Kane didn’t participate, but he spent all day staring anyway, so it was one of the closest things they had to a team activity.

The third member of the team hadn’t made as big of a splash during the fight as Ana, but he had acquitted himself well. Jay had asked around when he woke up, disguising it as interest in the general battle, and there were only positive things to be heard about his teammate.

Kane didn’t panic. He steadied those around him and led a small section of the defense with the occasional order. He fought at the edge of the roof for the entire fight, never needing to be relieved. It was the behavior of a seasoned worker, not a newly worded. People noticed. It’d bought him a second chance with the other workers. A second chance that was going to turn out the same as before. Kane had already gone back to his pre-fight behavior when Jay woke up. That brief flash of the old Kane that Jay had seen during the fight had been just that. A brief flash. Trying to start and keep a conversation going with him felt more like work than anything else. The silence was awkward and stilted.

When murmuring from across the roof disturbed the steady clack of cutlery, Jay took his chance to escape from the stilted atmosphere. He waited only a minute to let the newcomers settle before moving.

“I’m going to head over and try to talk to them again. Are you-” He paused, examining his teammate. “Kane. KANE.”

The man in question turned and blinked at him.

Jay pointed at his right cheek. “You have a bit of food on your...”

Kane wiped it off.

Jay sighed. How long had that been there?

“I’ll see you later.”

Standing, he turned and made his way across the rooftop to the back of the wagon. People waved and smiled at him as he did. A few he recognized from guard duty or the battle offered him a place. He thanked them, but a gesture to where three figures sat was enough to make his purpose clear.

There had been talk after the fight to have more adventurers assigned to the rear wagon, but it had gone nowhere. The adventurers were distributed across the wagons the way they were for good reasons, and one tense fight wasn’t a good enough reason to rearrange everything. Packing took time. It would be dangerous for so many people to linger out here at once.

The trio didn’t look around as he stepped up behind them.

“Hey, would you mind if I joined you?”

The adventurer on the right, a short burly man who went by Jack, turned towards him first and groaned. His face was tired and he had several days’ worth of thin stubble on his chin. A polearm was balanced on his shoulder, the base resting between his feet.

Jay had never seen them without their weapons. Something which was impressive for Jack, given how awkward it must be to carry a polearm inside the wagon.

“You’re persistent kid, and that is not a compliment.”

It was the adventurer in the center that spoke. They didn’t bother to turn to face Jay. Whether it was laziness or a habit born out of confidence in the shield on their back, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know this adventurer’s name. Or the archer’s. He’d only been able to get a name out of Jack.

“It’s not a good time then,” Jay said, a little apologetic. It was never nice to be disturbed during lunch. He was only a little sorry though. He’d approached them at several more opportune moments before, and they were always rude. “I’ll go.”

“Stop,” the third adventurer called tiredly. Her shoulders slumped, and Jay waited as she rolled her neck. It was a tricky maneuver with how her unstrung bow was tied around her waist and back. The woman’s dark blond hair was tied up in a bun and it rotated in a steady oval behind her head. “Three questions. I’ll answer three questions and you will stop.”

Jay paused. “Are you sure? If I’m disturbing your lunch...”

“You’re stopping now either way, so take three questions or nothing.”

Jay sat down. He had a lot more than three questions, but he’d take what he could get. “Any tips for archery?”

“Not the question you want to ask.” The center adventurer, the one with the shield, called.

The archer elbowed him. “It’s close enough and I knew he would ask it again.” She turned to Jay, carefully moving her bow so it didn’t bump into anything.

Like her companions, her face was tired but it wasn’t shown as obviously. Her high cheekbones made the shadows around her eyes seem more natural. She was broad shouldered, something he had attributed to archery, but now, face to face, he had another guess. She was from Pono. Was that why she wouldn’t talk to him?

“Posture. Stand straight, hips and shoulders in line with target. Feet shoulder width, front foot back a step and point half towards target. Exhale before and after releasing but not during. Practice. Next.”

Her answers were sharp and shot out like arrows. Jay scrambled to try and memorize them even as he asked his next question.

“What is the first thing you recommend a new adventurer do?”

“Join a Guild. Next.”

He scowled at her, even as the center adventure snorted. It wasn’t a proper answer, but his first question wasn’t a question as much as a request. This was the archer balancing things out. She knew from his previous attempts to get advice that he wasn’t part of a guild.

Unfortunately, he got the feeling that pushing for a proper answer would get him nowhere.

“Who was the adventurer at the end of the fight?”

“They’re assigned to the family wagon. They won’t be reassigned. Anything else is none of your business. Questions over.”

And that was why the adventurers wouldn’t be shuffled around between wagons. Everyone in the rear wagon wanted more protection, but so did the passengers and they were paying for the privilege. The only other places to draw from were the scouts and the family wagon. Reducing the scouts for more protection on the wagons was like closing your eyes so you could position your hands and balance better. It didn’t matter how ready you were to fight if you couldn’t see the punch coming. As for the family wagon, none of the workers with kids would agree to taking their guards away, and all the other workers didn’t want to risk losing the protection that children brought to the caravan.

The mana created by children without Words wasn’t the same as what a Wonder made. It didn’t even come close to the huge domain that the unappreciated Big Bush emitted. The effect of a large bunch of children all together, however, was enough to steady the surroundings. That mana made not a bubble, but a trail, a slipstream of sorts as they went. It was using this effect that caravans were able to traverse the space between Wonders, ferrying news, goods and people between them. Given how much was carried by the caravan, without the children, the environment would change beneath their feet with each step. Oddities could form in an instant, lured by their high numbers.

Risking the children was risking every single soul in the caravan.

“Sorry about all the...” Jay began but trailed off, unsure of how to bring up the rumors and complaints.

Jack exhaled. “That’s part of adventuring, the complaints. You only do a good job if you save everyone, everything. Break one pot, let one oddity through and...” He clicked his tongue. After a deep breath, the man turned and raised his eyebrows at Jay. “And then there’s the other side. Everyone has a Word. There’s a perfect Word for every situation, a Cauterize for the hydra, a Reflect for the medusa. It looks easy with the perfect Word. People wonder what all the fuss was about. Why we’re even here.” Jack scoffed. “Adventurers have to work without perfect Words.”

“Aaaaannd that’s enough complaining for one day,” the archer finished. She arched an eyebrow at Jay. “You got your answers, so leave us alone for the next few days. We’ll reach the city soon, and then you’ll have hundreds of adventurers - not us - to bug.”

It wasn’t everything Jay wanted to find out, but he still thanked the trio and left.

He refused to listen to some of their advice, or warnings you might call them. He was going to be an adventurer, and so was his team.

Still, on the next day, as he lined an arrow up with the circle he’d drawn on the spongy mess that passed for trees today, he turned his shoulders and squared his feet. With a slow exhalation, the arrow flew true.