The next day,
The group's morning began long before the sun rose.
Inside the quiet halls of Drachenstein Mansion, the maids moved with practiced ease-checking coin pouches, wrapping food, and gathering what they needed for the day's errands.
Laya dressed warmly, bundling Archus in a soft wool blanket. Lyndis double-checked the list of supplies, lips moving silently as she ran through their plans. Rin adjusted her shawl and helped secure the empty baskets to be filled at the market.
With everything ready, they stepped outside, the heavy doors of the mansion closing with a quiet thud behind them.
The city of Alta was still asleep. The morning air carried the scent of wet stone and sea salt, cool against their cheeks.
Before heading to the market, they made their way through the dimly lit streets toward the city stables.
A worn wooden sign swung gently above a soot-stained doorway, its faded paint barely legible in the pre-dawn gloom:
"Thumbless & Sons - Horse and Cart Rentals Since 3E.181"
Reliable. Affordable. Discreet.
Rin squinted up at it. "I still think that's a terrible name."
Laya chuckled softly. "It's not about the name-it's the only stable we trust."
Carrying supplies by hand wasn't practical-so, as usual, they planned to rent a Drayhorn and cart for the trip.
The stable might have looked rough around the edges, but its beasts were well-kept, its prices fair, and its staff minded their own business. That alone made it invaluable.
Laya held Archus close. The baby's bright eyes peeked out, blinking sleepily at the quiet world around him. He made a soft noise, nuzzling into her shoulder as she gently patted his back.
Ahead stood the stables-a sturdy wooden building darkened from years of smoke and rain. The air grew thick with the smells of hay, damp wood, and animals.
Inside, the peaceful morning was broken by the occasional snort of a beast, hooves shifting, and the low murmur of stable hands preparing for the day.
Several Drayhorns stood in their pens, their thick coats ranging from dusty brown to slate gray. Unlike regular horses, they had powerful, stocky frames and curved horns that pointed forward, giving them a fearsome, almost prehistoric appearance.
Nearby, mulebeasts and woolly hill rams dozed quietly in their stalls.
The stablemaster, Roger, glanced up as they entered. A rough-looking man with a scarred face and a missing finger, he squinted in recognition.
"Back again, Miss Lyndis?" he grunted, rubbing his stubbled chin. "Here for the usual?"
Lyndis nodded and produced a pouch of coins. "Yes. Something strong enough to pull a full cart."
Roger gave a weary snort. "Prices are up again. You'll be lucky to afford a mulebeast, let alone a Drayhorn."
Laya's brows knit. "Again?"
"Everything's climbing-grain, wood, even the nails for the carts," Roger muttered, waving them toward the stalls. "Governor-General's taxmen are squeezing the merchants, and guess who gets to feel it next?"
As they walked, Lyndis glanced toward the back of the stable. "Haven't seen Cal or Joren around lately. They helping out with the stock?"
Roger scoffed, shaking his head. "Them? Nah. They signed up for the Night Watch last week. Said they wanted a bit of coin and a taste of glory."
He spat off to the side. "Give 'em two weeks of freezing patrols and sleepless nights, and they'll come crawling back beggin' for pitchforks and stable muck."
Despite the grumbling, he led them toward a large pen. Archus stirred in Laya's arms, his tiny fingers curling into her sleeve. His gaze drifted toward the beasts, eyes unusually focused.
Laya noticed, her tone playful. "What is it, Arch? Do you like the big beasties?"
Archus blinked, then let out a soft gurgle.
But his gaze lingered, brow slightly furrowed in a strangely thoughtful expression-far too serious for a baby.
Roger stopped in front of a sturdy Drayhorn with a thick, gray-brown coat. The creature flicked its tail and huffed, amber eyes alert beneath the dim light.
"This one's Marge," Roger said, adjusting the harness. "Reliable. Doesn't scare easy. Just don't let the reins go, or she'll take you into a ditch."
Rin stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on the Drayhorn's neck. The beast gave a grunt but didn't pull away.
Roger raised an eyebrow. "You've got a good touch. Ever work with animals before?"
Rin hesitated. "No, sir. It just... feels natural, I guess."
Laya smiled. "Maybe you missed your calling. Could've been a stable girl instead of a maid."
Roger chuckled. "Not a bad gig, really. People pay good coin for someone who knows their way around beasts."
Rin gave a quiet smile, running her fingers through the Drayhorn's thick fur.
As they finished strapping the harness, Laya tucked Archus's blanket around him more snugly. The child was still staring at the Drayhorn, mouth slightly open. Then, without warning, he reached out-his tiny fingers wiggling toward the beast.
The Drayhorn flicked an ear and turned its head, eyes locking with Archus. It let out a low, rumbling huff-soft and deep, like a greeting.
Laya blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Well now... that's something."
Lyndis arched a brow. "Maybe he's got a gift for handling beasts, too."
Roger snorted as he turned away. "Or maybe the little one just likes big, scary things."
He gave a shrug, then jerked a thumb toward the open yard. "Anyway. We ain't got all day. Come on pick your cart."
He led them past the pens and out into a covered clearing where a row of wagons stood beneath a slanted awning.
The carts varied in size and shape-some squat and two-wheeled, others taller with high sides and four sturdy wheels. Most bore the wear of long use: cracked planks, rusted bolts, or patched canopies bleached by sun and salt air.
"Pick one," Roger said with a grunt. "You get what you pay for, and what you paid ain't much."
Lyndis walked past the carts, inspecting each one with a practiced eye. She paused by a squat two-wheeler with cracked planks and shook her head.
"No suspension. It'll rattle us to death."
Rin peered into another. "This one smells like cabbage..."
"Old Anthony's," Roger muttered. "He used it to haul greens from the port. Got soaked in brine last week."
Laya nodded toward a larger, sturdier four-wheeled cart with high sides and a clean canvas canopy folded at the back.
"What about this one?"
Roger gave it a once-over. "Sturdy frame, new wheels, brakes are decent. She's heavier, but Marge can pull her easy."
"Perfect," Lyndis said, climbing up briefly to check the flooring. "We'll take this one."
As Roger hitched Marge to the cart, Rin climbed aboard with a bit more enthusiasm than grace-her wings fluttering as she stumbled over a crate and landed in a soft thud.
"I'm okay!" she declared quickly, cheeks flushed.
Laya shook her head with a soft laugh as she passed Archus to Lyndis and climbed up herself.
Within minutes, they were seated-Lyndis at the reins, Laya holding Archus close, and Rin perched on the sideboard with the baskets beside her.
Roger gave the cart's wheel one last tug, then stepped back and grunted approvingly.
"She'll hold."
With their cart ready and the reins in hand, the group stepped out into the waking city.
Behind them, Roger paused, watching them go. He muttered under his breath with a faint shake of his head.
"Strange lot," he muttered, but his eyes lingered on the baby longer than he meant them to. There was something in the way the Drayhorn looked at him... something magical.
Then he turned back to the stables.
"Tch... those boys better come back in one piece. Or I'll knock their heads in myself."
And with that, he got on with his day.