Chapter Text
Oresrush is finally looking better these days. The shops are stocked almost proper again with real customers wandering in and out, there's music in the tavern at night with the drinks flowing, even the town sign's gotten a coat of fresh paint since the last time he came this way. At this rate, Papp'll be able to pick up some paint of his own to spruce up the place soon. The chickadee'll help-
Well, he would if he was here.
It's still difficult, getting used to his absence. Over twenty years it's been, Papp's chickadee growing from a hatchling to a fine young man, and now the nest is empty again. Papp knew it had to come, had pushed Partitio out to finally fly his own self, but that don't mean it ain't a bit lonely sometimes, rattling round the old place all by himself. It's got to the point where he swears he's seen a kid lurking round sometimes, a skinny thing with light hair. Since every time Papp takes a second look the kid's vanished, and nobody's mentioned a new child in town, he's decided that it's his mind playing tricks on him now that Partitio's gone.
It's why Papp's heading into town today, even though Partitio's friends've offered time and again to bring him what he needs from the market, even though he knows he's still a bit weak from the long illness. But it's clear he needs the company, and being stuck inside in a bed's never been Papp's style besides. No matter what that apothecary might've had to say about it.
And indeed, Papp feels stronger than ever on the way to the market. Fresh air's a cure good as any medicine, like his Ma always used to say. Seeing his town blooming also puts a spring in his step. The townsfolk call greetings to him as he passes, all with big smiles on their faces — young Nikki and Ned looking chipper as they've ever been, Cora in a brand-new green linen dress, Alexander over at the corral where his horses are looking finer than ever and with new tack besides. Walking by the inn, he sees a sign saying Closed for Renovation stuck out in front, hears fierce hammering coming from within. There's some cans of paint and a paintbrush up front; maybe Papp'll ask Abby if he can borrow them once he's done.
All in all it's like the early days all over again, him and Roque and the baby chickadee all with their heads full of hope. Papp immediately feels twenty years younger for it, can't help but flirt a little with Sarah as he barters. She's got oranges for sale, he notes — first time he's seen those in years, sign that trade's finally picking up again — and so Papp can't resist splurging a little on some fresh fruit.
Why, there's even a pair of travellers with a dog looking over the blacksmith's wares, the first visitors to the market Papp's seen in a while. He's not too ashamed to gawk.
They're foreign-looking, they are, the woman tan with dark hair cropped to her shoulders, the man pale and thin. His hair is pure silver, but Pa reckons both of them are young, maybe his chickadee's age — it must be natural somehow. The dog's young, too, and doesn't look like any of the herding dogs usual round these parts with its shortish stature, square snout and thick grey fur. Their clothes are dusty from the road, and they're both carrying a staff — scholars, maybe?
At first glance Papp took them for a couple, but a second makes him think again. There's none of that undercurrent in how they interact, and... they look kind of alike, don't they? Not in a way most people'd notice, when their colouring and features are so different, but like any merchant Papp prides himself on being able to see past the obvious. Their eyes are the same shade of grey, their smile angles the same way and there's something similar about the way they move.
"-would like to remind you that you were the one who insisted on bothering the great condor, Throné-"
"-and we came out of it just fine and with some leaves to boot, so I don't know what you're complaining about-"
Listening to the bickering, Papp is surer than ever. Siblings. He's calling it now.
He's distracted, eavesdropping on the newcomers, not watching where he's going. Stupid mistake to make, really, especially when he's not as young as he used to be and coming off a long illness besides. When his foot hits a rock, his knee gives way and his ankle twists as his weight bears down. Before he knows it he's on the ground, side all bruised and tender, palm scraped open where he caught himself, ankle one throbbing mass of pain.
Out of reflex from too long with little ears around, Papp bites down the cussing that wants to escape — but it sure is tempting. He don't like the feeling of his ankle at all, knows without even looking that he's wrenched it something fierce in the best case, broken in the worst. Looks like that apothecary who was in town a few months back — the one who sold him his medicine and gave him one solid lecture about taking it easy before she moved on — might get her way after all. Because he's sure not going to be up to leaving the house until this heals... even if he hates the thought. Hates the idea of having to call on Partitio's friends to help him around or head to the market for him just as much, but it's like they say — all the wishing in the world won't pull silver from the vein or water from the ground.
"Sir? Are you all right?"
The two travellers have come up to him, faces worried (and that's definitely the same frown they have right there). At least Oresrush is getting polite guests, Papp figures. Maybe he can ask them to help him to old Nettie, the closest thing to an apothecary they've got in town now, because he sure ain't walking anywhere on his own-
The man's frown deepens when he sees Papp's leg. "Ah... you're injured. That doesn't look good." A moment of hesitation. "We can... help. If you allow us to."
Apothecaries, maybe? Papp didn't see no satchel, but it's not like that makes it impossible. After all, look at him here — a merchant with no hat.
Anyway, there's only one answer to that. "I'd be right grateful for anything you can do, friends."
Papp's expecting them to start pulling out bandages. Instead, the man crouches down beside him, while the woman snags the excited dog by the collar before it can bounce over.
"Just like we practised, Temenos," she says. "Ask for the power first, then channel it. You don't have to speak aloud, but it might help."
The man drops his hand to rest just above Papp's ankle. He closes his eyes, brow knit fierce with concentration, and murmurs, "Aelfric Flamebringer, hear my plea — let this man be healed."
White light shines from around his hand. There's a strange feeling, like someone is yanking all the bones in his foot to and fro, then-
The light fades, and the pain with it.
The man sits back. Papp carefully twists his foot, makes to set it on the ground as if to stand, finally — with great caution — levers himself upright. Nothing. The injury is gone like it never was. Even the scrapes on his palm and bruises on his side have vanished. He feels good as new.
"Well, I'll be a Gabbrodillo's uncle! Looks like I owe you some thanks, or more than."
The two clerics — they have to be, even if it's the first time Papp's seen one without the cloak — trade glances. "Ah... it was... our duty to serve," the man says, sounding hesitant. Maybe in some kind of training, considering how the woman was talking to him before. Well, greenhorn or no, Papp's ankle ain't complaining about his skills.
"Now, now, none of that," Papp says, clapping the man on the back so hard he almost goes flying. Spindly little thing, isn't he? No meat on his bones at all. Papp'd never have let Partitio get this thin, hopes his chickadee is remembering to take care of himself out on the road without his Pa's cooking.
And that's when it dawns on him how to thank these two.
"Tell you what. You're staying the night here in town, aren't you? Well, the inn's closed right now — Abby's doing some repairs. Why don't you stay with me. I've got the space," lots of it, since Partitio left, "and it's the least I can do in return."
The two of them trade glances again. Papp realises that to them, he's a complete stranger, and quickly adds, "Papp, by the way. Papp Yellowil, that's my name."
"Temenos Anguis, and this is Throné Mistral," says the man- Temenos, apparently. "And that would be... very kind of you, actually. I have some business in town that I need to look into alone," judging by his sister's narrow-eyed glare, she's not so keen on the alone part herself, "and we were wondering where we could stay after we saw the inn. If you're sure we wouldn't impose...?" His voice trails off leadingly.
"Impose? Don't even know the word. Come along now, you two, it's this way."
His ankle's feeling better than it has in years, he's done his shopping and he won't be alone in the house tonight. All in all, Papp thinks, today's got all the makings of a very good day.