I've made it to Qorboon, without Antonio. It took four days of travel, only really stopping to haggle with some people until they agreed to fill my tank. My stomach has since stopped screaming and resorted to cramping, deep and neverending. My body is weak, my arms difficult to lift, impossible to turn the wheel, forcing me to swerve from side to side. I've since ditched the car, marching in the sand under the high sun. I've passed through two towns, Yinga and Junop, they're small, but the people seem happy. They live in sandstone and concrete in homes, they have access to fire to cook their food, basic technology like fridges and lights, running water, and some even grow tomatoes in their windowsills. None, however, acknowledge me. They don't watch as I trudge by, don't comment on my appearance, don't pull their children away from the dirty stranger.
Now, I'm closer to their border, a tropical town called Goin Kuin, inflated with beaches leading straight to the deep ocean. People laugh and eat and swim or read and suntan. I wouldn't say they're all locals though, it seems a majority of people enjoying the location are from other nations, taking advantage of the good weather and cheap prices.
Off in the distance, perched just above the water, are a variety of small homes; all installed with the basics, bed, bath, fridge, heating, electricity, perhaps even cooling. I pay the sides of my pants, feeling what likely adds up to only fifty denars. I'll need to find a job soon, nothing too difficult, only easing things, like running a concession stand, cleaning up the beaches, or being a lifeguard. First things first though, I'll need to find a small, but cheap, place to stay. By the docks there's an information stand, everything written in a language I understand thankfully. Qoroons are pretty notorious for their belief in the Questian path, so they primarily speak Qwoir.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," The teller greets me cheerily, wearing a top hat and a plaid summer shirt. "How may I be of service for you today?"
"Good afternoon, do you have any small rooms available for long term stays?"
"How long are we expecting?"
"Six months to a year."
"I see," The man flips through a large book in front of him, biting his lower lip as he drags his finger across the dry, coarse pages. Women and children laugh in the distance, water splashes and light hearted cries ring out. The sun beams down, but the cool air flowing along with the waves, shield me from the heat. Finally, the man meets my eyes once more, gleefully exclaiming, "Let me just get my manager."
The manager ends up being a lanky, dark young woman with flowers in her hair and well maintained braids. She speaks with a deep, buttery voice that feels like a spell. And her smile reminds me of the children back in Sareanin—playfully running about, aware of the harsh realities of their world yet choosing to enjoy the moment instead.
"Good afternoon, we have a few smaller homes available for long term housing, all amenities included, although we require proof of income, do you have a job in the area?"
"Unfortunately, no, I'm just moving here and haven't gotten anything arranged just yet."
"I see," She mumbles, scratching her chin as she reads through the same book as the man, "my sister is a member of the labour board, we can assist in helping you settle down here, though until you have a proof of income, we'll be more than willing to house you in the employee quarters. You'll have daily cleaning tasks to help earn your keep and some pocket change while you search for a higher paying position."
"What are the jobs in this area like?"
"Nothing special, a majority of it is client facing however, so if you're good around people then we'll have plenty of places to put you."
"Alright," I pause, taking a deep breath. I'd rather have a job more in the background, less risk getting recognized. But if a stable job means I have to interact with guests from time to time, then it should be worth it. It's just for a couple of months anyway, until I can trust whoever left me that message is no longer on my tail. Then I'll leave, search for Antonio; and if something were to happen to him, search for who to kill. "Thank you so much for this kind opportunity, I'll take it."
"Excellent!" The woman claps her hands cheerfully. "As it just so happens, our meditation corner has a recent opening for an assistant preparation hand."
"Meditation corner?"
"Oh you see, we have a guide on site that helps educate children and adults alike on Questian beliefs and stories. The guide there helps run the meditation classes that assist our guests in feeling as though they are one with the spirits."
"Interesting."
"Come along now, we're getting a line, I'll show you to the employee quarters so you can set down your stuff and get straight to work!"
The employee quarters are run down and lack ventilation, while the meditation corner, what some would think to be in a more church like setting with massive works of art and statues lining the walls, is instead a small room with glowing lights and pictures drawn in crayon by the little kids whose parents force them to come here.
The 'Guide' is not at all what they should be. He's just some kid who accidentally got a job he's unqualified for and now has to maintain his act for the sake of not being caught lying. He's terrified, I can tell by how anytime he looks at the boss or hears anything about his work, he begins to shake and avoid eye contact.
Poor kid. This must be his first job.
"My first class is taking place in five minutes," The young man tells me, rushing to don his robes, which are so large they look like wings. "We'll be discussing the element, water, and how its memories will judge their actions for all eternity."
"Alright, what do you need from me?"
"Do you know how to summon water?" I turn and find a pleading grin staring right back at me.
Kid can't even use the elements, but I'm sure that if I were to try and use them for the lesson, then I'd be discovered, failing to lay low.
"Oh who am I kidding, it's impossible to do anything like that!" He weeps, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
I kneel down beside me, keep an eye on all my vulnerable spots, "Does the water have to be summoned? Or is that just a showy tactic?"
He looks at me sidelong, confused, "Obviously it's just for show, it's impossible to wield the elements, but the kids love it. My old assistant used to handle it for me, he was a saint, but he'd left for a road trip a week or so ago, and hasn't returned since. I was able to play it off as my mind being unable to focus due to missing my assistant, but I can't keep up with that excuse for much longer. You see, I'm supposed to be seen as 'mentally strong,' the strongest if you would."
"Thirty seconds till class starts!" A voice calls out to us, the low lights of the room reminding us of how close we are to being discovered.
"I may not be able to control water, or any elements-" I pull out a hydro sac of water and place it on top of the table in the middle of the room, a log built in with lights to make sure everything appears more magical. "-but I can make sure the kids get a sense of what it's like to control it."
The meditation goes on with ease, the Guide instructs everyone to allow a little bit of water to dribble on their heads, then focus on the sensation of it soaking into their skin, flowing down and dripping onto their clothes, feel the humidity surrounding them and feel at one with the water in the air, flowing through their lungs, pumping through their veins.
By the time the class is finished, the Guide is exhausted, and drops onto a sand bag chair, exhaling a sigh of relief.
"We did it. We actually did it."
If this is all I have to keep up with to remain low, then this is the perfect set up for me.