MIDAS

Laughing, his sudden surge of energy overpowering Graf trying to hold him back with grumbling instructions, Midas and Iyana watched as Haya directly headed for the water, the endless spanning sand sunk under more massive amounts of water, making up the vast sea they locked sight on. Midas seemed more stressed than the girls beside him; Iyana watched quietly as Haya hastily got rid of his poncho, hiding his upper body, letting it fall onto the sand. "He finally gets to see it; at least I was able to keep this promise." She muttered to herself.

Graf jumped off the sledge, binding it to a lonely set of wooden poles dug into the sand, his narrowed gaze looking across the scene, setting his sight onto an abundance of mud huts, wooden shacks built onto the shoreline. Next to his ride, two tinier sledges were stopped to park here, one of them similar to the one Alma used, matching its size. "You see that...? This is Samak'thir. I used to sell all kinds of fruits and fish here... This village is packed with food and water, given that they capture fish here..." Graf grasped Midas's left shoulder, barely reminding him not to touch his right one, as he whispered into his ear.

Midas turned to the bald driver, his gaze wandering off Inaya for a moment, as she and the young girl wandered to the shore. On her way, she picked up Haya's cloth, watching him as he splashed in the water, which hit the coast of the dunes in a solid frequency. "Sounds promising. Do you want me to head there with you...?" Even though Midas stopped initially, remembering himself about the last time they visited a village to rest for a while, he voiced his question.

"Yeah, that would help. I need someone who can carry a whole vase of water—no, make it two... One barely was enough for three people; now we're near double that. I'm getting a headache just thinking about transporting all of this back to the ride..." Graf grumbled into the palm resting on his face, and as he began to walk, sure that Midas followed him on his way to the village, he held onto his short dagger with his other hand, taking the lead.

Graf sunk his head as he began to slow his pace. Unlike the first village, there were fewer huts; an unpaved road looped around outer and inner sets of mud and sandstone buildings, wooden huts and poorly constructed sheds hid in between the sandstone facades, not reaching the short heights of the mud buildings. Left alone, its shopping stands, reminding the boy of Gip'din's shopping district, where dotted around the barely used streets. The striped cloth folded, as the wind blew against them, strapped onto the wooden frames of the stands; only the distant waves crashing into the coast was able to be heard.

"Well, this town sure became quiet." Graf pointed out, slightly stressed at the fact that the village changed drastically from what it once was, Midas shared his feeling, his gaze meeting the metal masks worn by the little amount of people who roamed the streets of the city. None of them seemingly selling any goods, or carrying anything back to their homes. "This street was filled with all kinds of shops... This one here used to sell dried Gunaj—tiny fish anyone could easily eat on the way." Marking the rough size of the fish with his fingers, he pointed to a left-behind wooden husk, most likely belonging to the described shop.

"This shop seems to be running..." Midas looked around before pointing to one of the many mud huts; this particular one had a wooden sign nailed into its walls, the symbols written on the board most likely spelling the name of it. The boy watched as Graf followed him near the double doors marking its entrance, the faint amount of people roaming the streets seemingly entering and exiting through them.

"This was a bar I frequently visited... I don't think they sell any usable food or water." Graf let his finger glide across his chin, pondering for a while until he entered, allowing the boy to follow him. Midas sunk his head slightly as he pushed open the door; Graf had already left him behind to take in the familiar atmosphere of the tavern. Standing broadly before the keeper of the bar, the boy watched him, sliding through the massive doors, as Graf leaned against the clay counter, his forearm resting on top of it.

The seats of the tables surrounding them were barely used; lonely packs of hooded men hung around to enjoy whatever was filled into their cups; none of them spoke a word, as their heads slowly turned to the foreign-looking bald man and the child following him. "Ah yes, I remember this exact vault; even the tables are all the same... Some of them kept their original positions; ah, one of them is missing..." Graf spoke to himself in faint nostalgia, looking back at the inside of the building, while Midas struggled to get on top of the wooden stool, only able to use one of his arms.

"Out of all the people that left or came to ransack this place... I'd never imagine you ever coming back." Even though spoken in a light tone, her bitterness began to shine through her voice as she ended her sentence. From a door frame built into the back wall of the building, a woman emerged, clothed in a poncho stretching to her knees, her brown hair tied up into a knot. Unmasked, she stood behind the counter, grinning to herself as the driver turned.

"What do you want, hm...? Are you going to pitch me any business scheme again, or do you want money...? I wouldn't dare to believe someone as busy as you would show up here just to have fun..." Not even looking at either of the two who sat in front of her, she lowered her gaze onto one of the many clay cups hiding behind the counter; the cloth that cleaned it made light squeaking noises, the only voice seemingly sounding through the room.

"We came here to buy food and water... But from what I see, the whole street was completely emptied. What happened, Jelle...?" Graf leaned forward, lowering his tone, before voicing his concern. Midas couldn't help but notice his worried expression; Samak'thir really matched the eeriness of Jah'Gul in a scene. Midas became weary of the situation; the heads of the tiny group sitting at the corner were now fully turned to them. Whoever this woman was, she seemed to know about Graf, seemingly sharing only negative memories regarding him. Jelle was her name; the boy watched her eye shoot up to Grafs's face once he mentioned it.

"The bay and the tiny dock built onto it were filled, no, completely covered with Northerner ships... They were quick to grab any assault on anyone in their way after hitting our shore. They plundered the people... Some are still in complete shock watching their homes be invaded or witnessing their friends and family be hurt or killed for what they call rebellious behavior." Even though her speech was started with a spark of energy, her voice dropped quickly, sinking into a murmur as she talked. Midas remembered Graf speaking about outposts and northern troops before they arrived at the sea, his head sunk nonetheless after she mentioned people dying through the force of the northeners.

Graf breathed out for a long while, pondering, as his finger tapped lightly onto the clay counter in irregular patterns. His sight directed towards the ground stretching out behind the counter. "You know what the best part was... After they invited themselves into the house of the president, they banned any fishing vessel from going to sea. They looted us, then took our main source of food..." Light laughter escaped her, even though her lowered gaze seemed to embody the complete opposite feeling of happiness.

"What about the northern port...? Did they also shut down their shops...?" His arm took more space on the counter as he leaned forward, his gaze trying to find hers as he directly viewed her. Unlike his usual way of directly voicing his questions, he spoke in a newfound caution, as if the person before them was close to exploding in anger. Graf tried his best to keep her and himself calm.

"No, they installed troops at the entrances and took fees from whoever left and entered... The prices of the shops there also increased dramatically... Those bastards probably take interest from the profit these people make. If it wasn't for this port town... We most likely suffered a famine." Her hands lay on the tabletop, on which the many unused clay cups were placed. Balled up, her fingers were folded onto each other as she looked downwards onto her hands. Graf sighed, taking his view off the innkeeper.

Without any last word, he slid three silver coins onto the clay counter. Midas only got to see their engravings for a short while as the driver nodded at him to follow, turning away as the shopkeeper took the few coins, mildly surprised. Heading through the heavy double doors, Graf took the lead to head to the tiny wooden pier stretching out into the water; Midas silently followed, his sickle lightly hitting against his upper back as he moved his arms to walk forward. Strapped under the bandages covering him, keeping his only usable hand free.

"Alright... If we're quick, we'll get to the port town in no time." Graf stretched, trying his best to keep his motivation. The both of them left the bar behind; the group of three didn't wait long until they followed in their steps, leaving the building.