Day 6: Year C - 009.

...

Zanna and Billiam had re-entered the only city in the middle of the crescent-shaped Island. The roosters of West Castle street had begun to wake the constantly drowsy farmers from their troubled sleep. Even the eastern winds seemed stronger than usual on this early winter morning. The ever-attentive Billiam took these circumstances to his advantage and dragged Zanna into hiding among the large stocks of winter crops.

“Billiam? We shouldn’t hide among winter carrot stalks all day-”

“I know that, Zanna. I’m simply here to provide you with this, ta-da!” The medic smugly held up a makeup kit from his bag. “It’s necessary to apply makeup to your face, otherwise the Royal Guards would recognize you in an instant.”

“A-Ah, of course. Though growing up a Priestess, Mother Dearest never approved of adorning makeup. She always mentioned true beauty is natural look and magical strength.”

“That’s partially true, but I’ve always viewed make-up as a tool. Think of it as an art form from now on”. Billiam reached into the makeup kit and held out a grey cream, “First, let’s apply some rose-cream base to allow the make up to easily attach itself to your skin...”

The medic briskly applied matching face powder, dark-red lipstick, fake white eyelashes and grey eye-contacts, all while detailing the step-by-step process. The information was quite a bit for the Head Priestess, but kept track of the process thanks to her years of studying. Once Billiam had finished applying the makeup, he held a tiny, silver mirror to Zanna’s face of shock.

“What do you think? Not a bad job if I say so myself,” Billiam smugly prided himself.

“...This is really me?”

Billiam simply nodded and chuckled.

“Who else would it be? All I need to do is adjust your coily hair and we’ll be set.”

Zanna awkwardly looked away and caressed her beautiful, coily locks.

“Must you touch my hair? Mother always warned that hair is sacred-”

“I’m simply temporarily altering the colour. Undoing your hair’s shape could easily lead to damage, especially in this frigid weather.”

Billiam reached under his faux fur hat and held out a brush and jar of what seemed like a sort of white, sparkling powder. He sprinkled the substance upon Zanna’s green hair, which turned white in a near instant. The ex-Priestess gasped in excitement, wondering how Billiam got his hands on such a fine product in the first place.

“O-Oh! The dye was instant?”

“It’s laced with magic by the finest modern hairstylist I know,” Billiam grinned with delight. “Now then, which colour would you like? All you have to do is simply think it.”

“Hm, but I adore this pristine shade of white. It glistens in the sunlight like a garden of pure white roses, don’t you think so?”

“Very well then,” Billiam carefully put aside his makeup kit and hair powder in his briefcase and stood as the wind headed east. “Shall we go? It’ll be sunrise any minute.”

“What about you? Shouldn’t you wear a disguise as well?” 

“All I need are contacts to hide my bad eye. As much as I advocate for make-up, I am not a big fan of wearing so much,” Billiam grinned. “On another note, I knew you held back reporting our employment to Lucian, so I highly doubt the Royal Guards even have Chenille’s and my portraits on hand.”

Zanna let a surprised gasp escape her mouth.

“I have not told a soul regarding neglecting to report your employment. How did you know?-”

“Easy, I scoured each piece of mail before it was sent out, and I did not catch a single mention or photo of Chenille and I. Strange, considering we rather easily complied and handed you our information and portraits.”

“W-Well, you see – Wait, you went through our mail? All of it?”

Billiam smugly nodded as if it was an accomplishment.

“I hope you know that behaviour is completely illegal.”

“And so is withholding documents from the Head Priest himself.”

“A-A valid point, Billiam-”

“So why’d you do it?”

The Lady in green huffed, not willing to budge with an answer.

Billiam cracked a smile and took Zanna by her hand.

“Hah, seems the answer is written all over your face. But enough with the banter, we’re on a time limit here! So let us make haste before the farmers mistake us for thieves.”

“B-But aren’t you one?-”

“Whaaat? I cannot hear you over the blowing eastern wind!”

Trekking into the neighbouring Fennec Street was quite simple, as not only did the rushing winds and rooster-crows drown out rustling and shuffling, but the border from West Castle to Fennec was merely an unguarded grey fence.

Most Streets across Grand Island’s lone city had tight buildings, high rooftops, and many Royal Guards keeping a sharp watch upon Street borders. However, because of the black fog that crept until dawn, all the Guards were kept indoors until the sun made itself known in the bright, orange skies.

A lone farmer in the distance thought she spotted people running, but was quickly distracted by a hungry red short-winged rooster, who demanded bits of purple corn and white beans.

“Alright! Alright! Here’s yer bag of this morning’s feed.” The farmer looked back up and found the carrot field empty. “Must’ve been my darn imagination again. I swear to the Goddesses that darn Head Priest never lets us sleep properly these days.”

As the roosters let out their crows at the sunrise, our duo entered Fennec Street and blended in with the usual morning marketplace attendees. Billiam kept a calm smile as the ex-Priestess was unfamiliar with the noise of large crowds and nervously eyed the place.

“So, breakfast is our priority?” Billiam spoke in an unusual, hushed tone.

“Pardon me? A-Ah, yes. We should grab a bite to eat at a nice restaurant.”

“Er, I was thinking of ordering from a food stand. We’re on the go, after all, my friend!” Billiam earnestly smiled, which threw off Zanna as the duo zigzagged across the marketplace.

‘Dear me, Billiam’s some sort of genius actor, losing his Maritime accent in an instant. I just pray the Goddesses forgive me for my future intentional deception.’  

 As the winter’s mild sun had made its presence, our unlikely duo stood in a food-stand’s queue, waiting for their turn to order food.

“Trust me, you are absolutely going to love the way the people on Fennec serve breakfast. Other Streets have their unique ways, with scrambling and plainly salting over easy chicken eggs and red ham, but here, the people love their high-quality spices. Growing spiced up paprika and peppers is the norm thanks to many people being merchants for West Castle’s farmers and animal-wranglers.”

“Wow! Authentic spicy foods?” Zanna silently gasped with excitement, as crates with dove-like wings flew over the sleepy people’s heads, “The most spice I have eaten was from the mild paprika variant... Is breakfast served here the most delightful out of any Street?”

“Only one way to find out.” Billiam turned to the shy food-stand owner, “I’ll take two breakfast sandwiches.”

“...And which toppings would you like, sir?” He nervously asked while writing down the order. Despite the bright, welcoming smile of Zanna, the owner remained nervously vigilant, as if someone were watching him.

“Scrambled eggs, thinly chopped veal, red onions, and shredded rainbow peppers for both.”

“Two classic-style sandwiches then. Your order will be ready in a moment.” The food stand owner proceeded to scrub the frying pan clean and prepare a fresh batch of scrambled eggs. Then, he easily diced the veggies while reheating the small bits of spiced-grilled veal. His expression was passionless, but the food stand owner knew what he was working with.

Once the ingredients were prepped, they were swiftly bundled up into two large sandwiches with little orange bows, a signature from Fennec Street’s food vendors.“...Here you go. Um, please enjoy!”

“Ah, don’t forget the payment!” Billiam kindly reminded as he gave the vendor the exact amount needed. “Wouldn’t want your amazing place out of business.”

“T-Thank you for the reminder, sir.” The shy food-stand owner nodded his head and took the money. “Please come again soon!”

“Have yourself a blessed day!” Zanna squeezed in before turning away.

Once the hungry duo left the lineup, they sat at a nearby bench and began to eat. The Priestess was a little oblivious to the owner's nervousness while Billiam already knew the truth. The Guards were standing rather close by, and it seemed they eyed the owner.

“...A bit too spicy for my liking, but still a great meal! What do you think?” Billiam grinned as his face was completely red from the strong flavouring.

“These rainbow peppers are a wonderful blend of sweet and spice, and everything’s wrapped up in a sandwich. What a revolutionary way to eat a meal.” The ex-Priestess happily remarked as she continued to eagerly munch away.

“Spicy sandwiches are revolutionary?” Billiam blinked, his kind demeanour faltering for just a moment. “What’s next, you’ve never heard of marshmallow pies?”

“That is a real desert?”

Billiam gasped in awe as Zanna felt a sting of embarrassment.

“My goodness, that’s an incentive to live more! Listen, once we reach Honey Pie Avenue on the way to you-know-where, you should buy a dessert to share with you-know-who.”

“A dessert date with them... How endearingly romantic.”

Zanna suddenly stared up at the blue sky with delightfully dreamy eyes, thinking back to the previous night of flirtatious conversation and snuggling in warm blankets. At first, the medic was a little annoyed, but quickly decided on lightly teasing the ex-Priestess as she finished eating her sandwich.

“Say, if you can, you should seek out a food stand serving golden honey pies. They’re a symbol of blooming love and will guarantee a lifetime romantic relationship.”

“Really?” Zanna inquired with pure excitement.

“Of course! Trust me when I say this, I know everything there is about each Street’s culture.”

Zanna gently grasped Billiam’s free hand, shaking it as thanks.

“What brilliant advice, you have my utmost gratitude!”

“Sure! Whatever you say,” Billiam grinned, doubling down on his antics. “...Now then, let’s browse night hotels to reside for the evening. It is early, sure, but comparing pricing and room service is how you-”

Before Billiam could finish his sentence, he noticed a child suddenly collapsing in the market. A group of smaller kids surrounded the sickly older one, attempting to help her. Zanna felt sorry for the child, and Billiam followed suit.

‘Dear me, this better not be a pity-trick,’ The medic thought to himself.

“Mary? W-What’s wrong?” One girl nervously asked.

“I-I don’t feel so good.” She coughed.

“Eek, someone help!” Another little girl shouted in desperation, as Zanna quickly approached the group of frightened children.

“What seems to be the problem?!”
At first, the girls hesitated to speak, but their friend’s painful groans said it all.

“S-Something’s wrong with my stomach.” The girl winced as her face became pale.

“Perhaps, I could help.” Billiam stepped in front of Zanna and whispered, “Stand back, and ignore the other adults. It’s Street culture not to help others from a different area, especially if they appear sick. Looking out for others is never another's priority.”

Zanna was upset by the remark, but remained quiet and trusted Billiam to take over the medical-related emergency.

“Now then, clearly this is the work of food poisoning. Pale face, feverish temperature, and from the way she’s holding her stomach, in pain. Though the dead giveaway is how she reacted to said pain.” Billiam took out a piece of a golden peppermint leaf and gave it to the girl. “You should go throw up in a place of safety and only drink water with this cured peppermint leaf for today.”

“B-But I had to deliver some paprika to my auntie-”

“Do that later. Hurry, you’re looking more sickly by the moment,” Billiam sternly warned. “You girls should help her back home. Or go to your aunt’s if the paprika delivery is an emergency.”

“T-Thanks, mister.”

The group of girls held onto their sick friend and rushed down the marketplace. Zanna floated toward Billiam and smiled.

“It’s been a while since I have witnessed you give medical advice.”

“Well, no one in our group needed any medical attention. You and the boy have kept yourselves safe thus far, and the not-so-Lone-Wolf can self-heal through their yarn magic.”

“...I have an inquiry-”

 “And I have an answer for you.”

The medic eyed the nearby Guards and quickly stood up. He shot a nervous gaze towards Zanna and gestured for her to keep her voice very hushed as the duo walked the opposite way.

“Your magic ability has nothing to do with healing, yet you chose to be a medic. Why is that?”

Billiam let out a chuckle and grinned with delight.

“Well, first of all, your assessment is a lacklustre one. I’ve used my accuracy abilities in the past to measure doses of medicine and perform surgery.”

“You hold the knowledge to perform surgery?” Zanna gasped in surprise.

“Ah, yes. I have a legitimate permit.” The medic innocently smiled.

‘Something tells me he is lying again.’ The Lady in green quietly thought to herself.

“Though, I still wonder. What drove you to become a certified medic in the first place?”

For once, Billiam did not make an instant snarky remark; rather, he had quite a serious look on his pale face.

“Hah, that’s a question I ask myself to this day.” Looking toward the grey winter sky, the medic let out a chuckle. “Well then, let’s not waste any time and go window shopping for a proper inn.”
“Ah, it is not even lunch time yet-”

“Well, yes. But frankly, I’d rather plan now rather than later. Come along now.”

The Priestess was weirded out by Billiam’s serious answer, but did not want to press the question immediately.