“Your warning is noted.”

“Well then,” he flashed her a charming grin and offered her his arm. “Let’s go see the matchmaker then.”

She hesitated. “The what?”

Her reaction alone was worth bringing her along. Maybe this would be fun. “The matchmaker. What? Do you not want to come?”

Brysys made a face, but took his arm with  harsh assuredness. “No, I said I’m coming and I am. But, what sort of match are you hoping to make?”

He took pity on her, she’d find out what he was after soon enough anyway. “I’m not trying to make any sort of match. That’s just what people call him. We’re going to visit because of his hobby, not his profession.”

“And what is his hobby?” Brysys had to hand it to the Captain, he had a presence that made it easy to get swept away in what he was saying. He could spin a yarn forever, and while she wanted to get annoyed and bored with it, she just didn’t. She wanted to hear more. 

“He collects information on matrimony. Family lines from all over, tracing them back as far as he can, even in places where it doesn’t seem to matter. It’s why he’s a good matchmaker. His information on recent history is immaculate, so if you want your child to marry someone with a certain level of prestige…”

“Then he can tell you who to look for.”

Xasan nodded. “And for a small fee he’ll even get you in touch.”

Brysys hummed in thought. “Seems like an odd way to make a match. I thought that sort of thing was reserved for royalty, land owners and all that. Not that I believe in owning land, but I’m not really sure what else to call them.”

He chuckled at her aside and they entered the port of Trove proper.  “Trove is its own city-state. It has leadership and prestigious families. Brysys?”

Her attention had waned to the undersides of the ships. “Sorry, what are they doing?”

He turned to see what she’d been looking at. There were brief flashes of people beneath the water, a slap of a tail, or a finned hand or foot. “They’re cleaning the ships. Barnacles and seaweed accumulate, and it’s important to take them off for- reasons.” He’d never thought to ask why they did it. It was probably important though, given that it was standard.

“You know, I could do that. You could have asked.”

“Sure, but they’re professionals! And they can breathe underwater. It’s a good skill for that, probably.” He had to assume it was, that’s why it was the water breathing race who were doing it.

“Well, yes,” Brysys protested as he led her away. “But I can change into things that can breathe underwater, and I can speak with animals! I could convince the barnacles to let go. It would be much easier than pulling them off, and probably it would hurt them less too.”

He had to chuckle at that. Ask them to let go. “Barnacles aren’t animals, are they? No.”

She was pulling his leg. Sure, she’d never shown herself to have a sense of humor before but- they didn't look like animals. They were just shells! Shells with goo inside.

“I thought they were just sticky rocks,” he confided. The outer ring, where the stone of the ledge met the water was a tangle of boardwalks, docks reaching towards ships in the center, with shops only a dwarf’s throw away. In the center of the ring the farmers were pulling out their rafts of crops to let the sun shine upon them. 

“The shells have creatures inside,” Brysys assured him. “That’s true of all shells you know, they used to have living things inside of them!”

That sounded pretty fake. His hand went reflexively to the small shell necklace hidden in his hair. He kept it wrapped around his horn as a good luck charm, and it hadn’t failed him yet. Was it some creature’s body? Well, it was no more gruesome than collecting teeth, and prettier too.

“What are they doing there?” Brysys was pointing at the rafts that lazily drifted into the shaft of sunlight. 

 Xasan explained that they couldn’t grow food on the outside of the mountain. They’d tried it years before he was born but it had attracted too much unwanted attention. So instead they made certain that the island appeared barren from the outside and grew their crops on rafts that could be shifted around as needed to catch sunlight or allow ships to pass. 

“That’s ingenious,” she murmured. “Are the rafts organic as well? Or are they manufactured? You know, you could probably create seaweed beds- what?” His laughter gave her pause. She didn't think she’d said anything funny, or was he going to tell her that seaweed wasn’t a plant now?

“You aren't the first druid to visit here, you know? We have plenty within the city.”

Right. They would know these things. It was just interesting to see how the people here adapted to their unique living situation. It made her wonder if it had been done in other areas, or how she’d plan things if the city was under her care.

The sun had risen enough by this point for the light to reach the inside of Trove. The lanterns seemed dimmer in the gathering sunlight and the streets- or what counted for streets here- began to bustle. People greeted one another loudly, shouting across the way to familiar faces about how their morning had gone and what sorts of wares they could expect to trade that day.

Several people called out to Xasan- actually quite a few. At least one in twenty, and with the number of people who were passing by, it was quite intrusive. She was glad to have her arm in his, because otherwise she was certain they'd get separated. 

Xasan acknowledged the greetings he received, but didn’t stop to chat with any of them. A few he gave vague promises to see a few of them later, but mostly he brushed past with the thrum of the crowd.

Brysys let her attention wander from where they were going for a while, letting Xasan pull her through the passages that were familiar to him while she took in her surroundings.

They were going through some sort of shopping district and there were all manner of goods. If there was an advantage to stealing from people all over the world, it was that you had access to products from everywhere. Each vendor seemed to specialize in something different. One had jewelry, another fruit, this one specialized in all sorts of goods from a specific region. This one- were those animals alive or stuffed?  She lost sight of them too quickly to be sure, but she made a note to herself to visit back there later. Xasan surely knew where they were located. 

They started climbing upwards and she had to pay attention or lose her footing. The ramps were very secure underfoot, outcroppings of rocks were supplemented with sturdy wooden planks that were bolted or melded into the rocks. So they did have druids, at least at some point, unless there were others who could manage that level of stonecraft in this world.

They reached another level of shops. These were built sturdier than the ones below, but no more uniform. On the first level the vendors sold from little hutches, small ships, or rafts that held their wares. Stepping into a shop was a tenuous affair, but here on the second story the market was within actual buildings, but no two planks of wood looked like it came from the same place. 

“Is that a part of a ship?” There was residue on the wood that looked like it was once lettering.

Xasan barely glanced in the direction she was pointing. “Hmm? Certainly. Can’t go wasting resources.”

“Can’t you just take more from other people?” 

“Brysys, don’t be offensive.” Was she being offensive? Isn't that what pirates did? She would need to ask him to clarify when they weren't racing along uneven pathways. She might not remember all of her questions at this rate.

“Do you need a break?” They’d paused for a moment, but she shook her head. Good. Xasan wanted to get this over with, but he wanted to exhaust his druid even less. He knew she was used to walking in the woods, but the elevations of Trove could be difficult for newcomers. Anyway, they only needed to go up a few more stories. 

He could tell that she wanted to look around, he even wanted to let her. Trove was a wonder to the eyes, and he was a bit disappointed that he’d grown up here. He’d never know what it was like to experience this place for the first time. Anyway, he’d give her the opportunity to explore later. 

They climbed up the side of the second story and then took the bridge across the gap to the third. Brysys hesitated before crossing and he grinned at her. “They’re secure.”

“Hmm, yes.” She shook her head. “Seems odd to be afraid of heights when you can turn into a bird, but the mind doesn’t care about that, does it?”

“Wait until we reach the upper floors.” Still, he slowed down. It was only rope bridges from here on up. The space along the side had to be reserved for buildings, so all of the climbing was done across the gap in the center. They couldn’t do that below because they had to make space for ships, but that’s why all of the merchants, food, and taverns  were there. The homes and other services were above.

The first time the bridge rocked she held his arm a little tighter, he let go of her briefly to slide a comforting arm around her waist before offering her his spare hand. She took it and gripped tightly to the side of the bridge with the other. “Is it supposed to swing like this?”

He chuckled. “If it isn’t, then it’s held on for my whole life, so I don’t think it will give up now.”

“Comforting.” She glanced nervously at the various magical implements floating in midair with sections of the bridge strapped to them for support. This wasn’t their intended purpose, but she didn’t know how to tell if their levitation was failing.

“You can turn into a bird.” He’d just remind her of that the whole way up if he had to. 

“Maybe that’s the problem! Normally fly across gaps like this.”

A fair point. He’d never been a bird, but the perspective had to be different, different sized eyes and all. “You could transform now?”

She sighed. “No, no I’m fINE!” her voice rose as a half-giant jogged past them going the other direction, causing the bridge to jostle. “I- I just need to get used to it.”

Xasan nodded. It really wasn’t moving that much. He’d seen whole carts pulled across the bridges. They were quite sizable considering how many of them there were. All of them were different, obviously, but this one was one of the bigger, and most used pathways in Trove. Maybe he’d wait to walk with her on the smaller paths.  She did make cute little sounds when the bridge swayed though, so that was a bonus. Well, for him. She probably wasn’t having a good time.

They reached the end of the first bridge and he had to stop and apologize. “There’s one more. I’d take you a different route, but there isn’t one.” He leaned down to meet her eyes. “Are you ready? Do you need a break?”

She shook her head. “No, no I’m alright. I can turn into a bird.”

He gave her hand a pat. “You sure can. I’ve seen it!” He frowned. “Although, I will need to stop chatting if you do that. Speaking to animals is strange, even for me.”

That earned him a smile. “Really? It’s positively normal for me.”

This bridge was smaller, but also shorter, not spanning the middle of the ring, just going over a small portion of the water, up to a ledge with twelve buildings. “I noticed that you’re quite popular. Did you actually know all those people?”

“Gods no,” Xasan breathed in amusement. “Can you imagine? How exhausting.” She hadn’t made the cute noise yet. This bridge was less traveled than the first, so maybe she was more comfortable on it, but on the chance that it was the conversation that was keeping her calm, he continued. “My fathers are well known, when they adopted a golden son word got around, and people have been trying to be my friend or stab me ever since!”

“Do they really attack you because of your fathers?”

“Oh, not frequently!” He flashed her a wink, “Especially not recently. Now they attack me because of my winning personality!”

Her concern turned to laughter, and they were halfway across the bridge. “I can’t imagine! What are your fathers famous for? Fathers? You have more than one?”

He nodded. “Oh yes, all my life! Well, probably not all of my life. I don’t think I was in the egg when they got me, but the majority of it, to be certain.”

“My father raised me too,” Brysys confided. “I never knew my mother. Well, I knew her for about as long as you knew yours, I suppose.”

“Mothers are overrated,” he assured her.

“How can you be so confident in that?” 

She was much more concerned over this mother business than he was, but they were nearly off of the bridge, so he continued. “Well, I never had one. How can I know what I’m missing? What? Am I supposed to give up a father? The life I had? Unlikely.” His foot hit plank that was bolted into the stone as he spoke his last word. “We’re here.”

“Oh.” Brysys looked back the way they had come, letting the view distract her from a retort. “Look at all of it.”

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

“The ships look like toys from here.” 

Xasan chuckled at that. “You should see them from the top. Shall we?”

Her eyes roamed upwards. He heard a gulp, but no answer.

He let go of her, not offering an arm or hand as they stepped up to the Matchmaker’s shop. A thin coat of paint made the place look almost uniform, despite the varying size of the beams beneath the color. There was no telling how many types of wood they used to build this. One wall had a bit that bulged out like the hull of a ship, another the planks of wood were flat and wide, but over there they were narrow. Still, in the same color, you could fool yourself at a glance. 

“Okay. Okay I’m going in.” Xasan paused before touching the handle and shook himself, doing a few bouncing jumps to prepare.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready.” He slapped his cheeks lightly. “It’s easier for you, you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“What am I in for?” But he’d already started opening the door.