A cacophony of sound interrupts the bar’s din as soon as the familiar woman in overalls (What’s her name? Should ask… I’ll call her Miss Overalls, for now.) identifies the boy in the photos as the visiting youngin’.
Jarl is ecstatic to finally have a lead, firing multiple questions seemingly at once and all in one breath.
Manus leaps up, almost vaulting the table, and leans across the barrier to ask his own excited questions.
Áesta smacks them both upside the head with a hiss, “Patience!”
(The irony of a daemon preaching a virtue isn’t lost on them.)
~
“So, you’ve seen Jasey?”
Jarl fidgets nervously with his mug (of coffee; he’s not drinking; he never does), trying to keep his questions inside himself long enough for at least one of them to be answered—preferably the most important. Manus, next to him, drinks his wine straight from the bottle in his own attempt at quieting himself and his questions.
Áesta just sits quietly and listens while nursing his own drink: the peeked emotions permeating the small bar.
“If tha’s ‘is name.” Miss Overalls slurps from her canteen nonchalantly while eyeballing the shared pictures. Her brow is furrowed, contradicting her uncaring attitude, and she’s clearly judging the features in the image. It takes a moment of stuffing down his impatience for Jarl to realize she’s just trying to make sure she’s right and not just feeding them false information or false hope. He can appreciate that. Even if the wait is hard.
When she gets to the picture of Jasey reacting to a gift at Christmas, however, she finally stops.
“Yea’, that’s ‘im. I recognize tha’ look o’ unsure amazement from ‘is first sip o’ the drink.”
Jarl twitches, gratitude temporarily forgotten: “You gave my brother alcohol‽‽‽”
(Miss) Overalls shrugs, “Well, it ain’t like ‘e that young.”
~
“What condition was he in?”
Jarl blinks out of his concerned rage to glance questioningly at Manus. The mage doesn’t look back.
“Was he hurt? Scared? Ill or unwell?”
“He filled my world with joy, Áes.”
“… I love him dearly, Áesta.”
Jarl swallows as the eccentric magician’s words from days earlier echo hauntingly in his ears. (Love, huh?) He’d almost forgotten what kind of stake the older man had in all of this.
Mainly because he still doesn’t fully understand it. (Which love???)
(Should he be worried? More so than he was before?)
“No, not’in like that,” Overalls shakes her head. “He weren’t runnin’ ‘round ‘cause he was scared, neither. ‘Twas more like… ‘e didn’t get out much? So ‘e was excited—explorin’. Sweet sheltered child, that one.”
At this small comfort, both Manus and Jarl relax beside Áesta.
It’s nice to have at least that fear slain.
~
“And the kidnapper?”
“Yeah,” Manus nods, agreeing with Jarl’s inquest. They need more information than just Jasey’s condition—even if that is highly important to them. “What else can you tell us about them? Had you seen them before?”
Overalls hums. (Jarl and Manus both struggle to keep calm and not strangle her with their impatience.)
“Male—or a very tall and strong woman. ‘Bout two meters in height. Wore a long but thin cloak wit’ a hood that were always up. Could ne’er see ‘is face; but when the light caught ‘im right, ‘is hair and eyes was red.”
“Red?” Áesta suddenly questions, perpetually smug smirk (at being right about the drunks’ value) dropping; he seems tenser, too, as though the information’s had the opposite affect on him as it did on Jarl and Manus; this causes the priest to frown, suspicious; but it’s also a valid question: who has red eyes???
The kidnapper, apparently: “Yea’, red. Thought it were weird, too.” Overalls then laughs to herself abruptly, “Father George would probably claim he were a daemon or something. Good thing he didn’t go there.”
(Daemon… with red eyes…?) “He avoided the church?”
“Well, not e’eryone’s a churchgoer, Father.”
~
Overalls thinks a bit more while downing the rest of her beer.
Beside her, the robust woman from earlier saddles in with more canteens for her and a refill for the priest. Jarl thanks the barkeep quietly while awaiting more information from Overalls. But the Keep surprises him: “‘E didn’ talk much, t’e boy.”
“Jasey’s mute,” Manus informs with a look daring anyone to laugh.
None of them do. The Keep simply nods, saying that was explained by Red, too; “‘E translated t’e boy’s hands fer us. Didn’t talk fer much else.” She sighs and thinks for a while before adding: “‘E ‘ad a deep voice, Red.”
“Thank you,” Jarl says sincerely—both for the top-up and the information.
And he means it because the kidnapper knowing Sign Language is huge.
~
(Did he learn that just for this or was it something he already knew?)
(Is that why it sounds like Jasey wasn’t afraid?)
(Was he hired for this?)
(Or is it personal?)
~
“Hadn’t seen ‘im befer, neither,” the Keep adds as she picks up some empty canteens and jugs.
She leaves after that, seeming to have nothing more to say, but Jarl doesn’t find her rude—just diligent. Similar to Sophie, really. (And those kinds of women always succeed.) He really respects them.
“Same,” Overalls adds, seeming to remember that was a question they asked.
One of the men (who’d been feeding Áesta earlier) next to her nods, “Yea; would’a remembered them eyes.” Meaning they were a particularly red kind of red, not just hazel that turned reddish in the firelight.
Is it another daemon?
Because Áesta…
(Why’s he pale?)
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