a new pair of shoes

Arialla frowned severely. "Nothing good ever comes of men making themselves gods ... I'm surprised the Old Gods only used a barrier. At home, our gods tend to annihilate anyone who grows even half so arrogant -- and then come up with inventive tortures for their afterlife."

Quanil had a good point, one she hadn't yet considered: calling out to Apollo might only earn her the wrath of this realm's gods. Surely they could not blame a lost soul for seeking to go home? But even as she thought that, Arialla knew that gods could blame whomever they liked for whatever they liked; who was going to demand justice from a god?

"I see. You're right; I doubt your gods would be pleased if Apollo transgressed their borders. Perhaps I will simply have to ask one of the Old Gods to send me home ... The Provost suggested as much."

Quanil nodded. "It's worth a shot? There are a lot of shrines around; those would be a good place to ask. The one here in the Sanctuary isn't dedicated to either the New or Old Gods, so you could ask there.

"But, um... did the provost say whether or not any Outlanders have successfully left?"

Quanil had never heard of such a thing, but that didn't mean it hadn't happened. They were sure the provost had a better idea.

Ah, yes, that little sticking point. "He said no one had. So I'll simply have to be the first."

After making this determined statement, Arialla forced herself to smile. "He offered to let me know if any new information on the subject comes up, too. And I ... I'll be looking too, I suppose, if none of the gods can give me a direction to go in. How far is it to the market?"

"Nearly there. Just around that bend there," they said, pointing it out to her. "Technically the market doesn't start immediately after the turn, but it's really close and you can see it from there."

Interacting with the Fae had taught Quanil a couple of things. So they were quiet a bit as they sorted through what to say to Miss Arialla. Their default response had been "You're probably stuck here, so it's better to get used to that now." But that seemed too blunt, too Fae-ishly-unconcerned for her feelings. And gods forbid Quanil ever belittle someone else's determination to do what seemed impossible. The Loreseekers had seemed an impossible dream to Quanil, after all.

So, after a bit of thought, they ventured, "Aside from looking for information, what else would you consider doing, if it turns out you're stuck here for a little bit?"

Arialla frowned, considering Quanil's question. They appreciated the way they'd phrased it, though -- stuck here for a little bit. If only she could be certain that it would only be for a little bit.

"I'm not sure," she answered. "I'm a priestess, but I don't think joining the priesthood of one of your gods would work when I'm already consecrated to Apollo. It's not really a transferable profession, is it? My father was a fisherman; he trained me in the business a little before I went for the priesthood. I suppose I could take up fishing, over in Torchline. But as much as I love the beach, I've never wanted to follow in my father's footsteps."

The prospect of fishing as a livelihood didn't appeal to her very much -- too much salt and fish guts. But something that let her stay in Torchline, near the water, where things felt a bit more like home, would be nice.

"Well, you don't have to do what your father did. There's lots more out there than just priestess-ing and fishing. Like... um... loreseeking! And... well, I don't think you'd like farming either. Um..."

It was hard for them to think of anything else besides being a Loreseeker. They hadn't wanted anything else in so long. But they rounded the bend and the market stalls were just a short distance ahead. "Or you could work for a merchant, maybe?" They grinned. "You could sell shoes for a living!" They hoped Miss Arialla liked their little joke.

"I don't know much about Torchline myself. Born and raised in the Hollowed Ground, and the provost said I should stay here for a bit. But I'd like to go. I hear it's warm and sunny and there's... lots of water. Just lots of it!" Okay, so the description could use a little work, but they truly never had been there.

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Maybe Apollo can point you in the right direction, or one of our gods could, if Apollo's not answering at the moment. That happens sometimes. Uh, around here, anyway."

Arialla nodded, taking in Quanil's words. She smiled at their enthusiasm and their eagerness to help. "I've been thinking about joining your loreseekers, actually, but I'm not sure I have the skills. What do they require? If I'm going to have to search for how to get home, the guild seems like the right place to do it."

She chuckled at Quanil's joke, adding, "Maybe. Well, in that case, I'd better get some practice in, hadn't I?

"Torchline is beautiful," she finished, "but it's not home. I don't think it can ever be ..."

While she'd mastered her homesickness fairly well, it did rise in her chest now -- not enough to truly distress her, but enough for her to stop talking, at least.

"Oh, you should definitely talk to the provost about that," they suggested. "And you could learn more about Torchline while you're at it! It's good to learn about a place before you go there, make sure you're equipped for it and all that. Like your shoes would definitely not be suitable for Halo, because it's really cold there. That's why I haven't gone there yet; I just have stuff for normal winters here, not the super year-round cold of Halo. But I'm pretty sure Provost Silversmith would be glad if you joined the guild! I think, really, it just takes wanting to learn and wanting to use what you learn to help others."

They grinned when she liked their joke. "Practice away," they said, gesturing to the stalls they were coming up on. "Technically it's not selling; I've heard a lot of Outlanders use that term. We trade. So if you're looking for shoes to swap for shoes..." They cast about and grinned when they saw a cobbler's stall. "Over there!" They pointed to a stall down the way. "We'll see if they've got something you can wear."

And, as for home... "Home's a feeling more than a place," they said. "In my experience, anyway. I think people have lots of homes in their lives, normally. You may not ever have that home again, but you might have a new one. I hope so, anyway."

The cobbler at this stall was a sturdy-looking woman with well-muscled arms and a leather apron on. Her curly red hair is pulled back by a leather thong, and she has nails in her mouth as she repairs the sole of a boot.

Her wares were displayed: mostly leather boots, mostly in different shades of brown or black, but there was a lovely pair of white boots with light gray laces. There were also flats in various colors - no white ones, but there was one that was a lovely golden yellow, as well as some blue, red, purple, black, brown, and pink - and some everyday and formal men's shoes in the usual brown or black.

Arialla nodded, smiling. "I will have to ask him about it. I would certainly be willing to share anything I learn. If I cannot ... Well, while I am working on getting home, I would like to help others."

She headed towards the cobbler's stall, frowning slightly -- from puzzlement, not disapproval. "So you don't use currency? Only barter?"

Of course, she didn't mind the idea, but it seemed strange to her, a bit impractical. It certainly worked on this occasion, though; shoes for shoes was exactly the trade she needed to make.

Quanil's thoughts about home made her frown again, in disagreement this time. "I don't think any home can replace the one I've lost, or ... even earn the name of home, honestly, if my family isn't there."

Suddenly she missed her family so badly she could taste it -- her father, her mother, her little brother ... The thought that she might never see them again almost overwhelmed her. To distract herself, she turned to the cobbler's stall, glancing over the products before meeting the cobbler's eyes. "Hello. I'm looking to trade for some shoes -- would that be possible?"

The cobbler looked over at her and smiled as she took the nails out. When she stood, she was at least half a head taller than either of the two would be "customers."

"'Course it's possible!" she said, all smiles. "Fact, if you don't see something you like here, I can make you something you do. I've got a few different sizes of everything up here, so we'll find you something that fits if you like what you're seeing. But let's see what you're offering up, hm?"

The cobbler was large, friendly, and... direct. But that was pretty normal for merchants.

"She's got some shoes of her own to offer," Quanil said, even more glad to help out a potential recruit. Well, they'd be glad to help regardless, of course, but bringing more people into the guild? The provost was sure to be happy about that!

If it happened. Quanil wasn't willing to speak up about family. Their parents had tolerated them, never really understanding them. Their siblings - including their missing sister - had liked them more, but they weren't sure Freina and Kedran understood them, either.

As far as Quanil was concerned, the family you chose for yourself - like the Loreseekers - was far better than the family thrust upon you by circumstance. But they knew they were in the minority there. Better to focus on the bartering.

They leaned towards Miss Arialla and whispered, "Don't be afraid to haggle with her. She's kind of intimidating, I know, but she's nice, really. I'll help if you need it.

Arialla smiled at the cobbler -- and at Quanil. "Yes, I need to trade these away."

She stepped back to indicate the sandals on her feet, unsure if she should take them off. She didn't exactly want to be barefoot in the dusty marketplace. Not that the sandals were much better, honestly, as far as keeping her feet clean and safe went. But the gilding still sparkled, and if the elaborate laurel leaf patterns showed considerable craftsmanship. Arialla could only hope that the cobbler would be impressed, despite their impracticality. Perhaps someone would like them as party shoes.

"Thanks," she whispered back to Quanil. Though she didn't anticipate too much trouble haggling -- while recent events had tended to make her shy, her time as a priestess had taught her to assert herself when she had to. Her time as a priestess, and her life before Apollo had granted her greatest prayer, which had possessed its rockier moments.

The cobbler peered over her stall down at the shoes Arialla was wearing and lit up. "Oooh! Let me see those!"

She picked up the stool she'd been sitting on and brought it out to one side of the stall, patting it in offering. It had supports on it that you could easily rest your feet on. "Pretty, pretty! Impractical, but that's never stopped some people. I'd like to take a closer look at them. Any of my shoes here catch your eye?"