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Side Story 4. A Strange Coach Driver
🕑 Added 2025-09-25 01:34:08 +0000 UTCThe journey to Lakepoint had been long, but finally, I was here. Halfway to Evergreen… That is, if I had continued with my original itinerary.
I had much time to consider the idea of simply throwing the Silika’s stamp by the roadside and letting nature reclaim it, or again throw it into the raging current of a river… Finally, now facing Lake Alenia, I was considering closing my fist on this accursed family heirloom and throwing it as far as my arm permitted, and letting it sink into the dark abyss.
Wouldn’t it be simpler? Kinder? Better overall for Silika that this item never came to light? What good could come out of holding on to it?
I could only foresee difficulties. Pain. Conflict.
All things I would never wish upon my niece… But was it my place to make this decision? Was it my right to deny her just due from a family that ripped everything away from her?
With that final thought, I slipped the heavy metallic seal back into my breast pocket and took a deep breath. The crisp air of the lake tickled my nostrils.
It was the first time in my entire life that I had come to this part of the country. As a matter of fact, it was the first time I had gone anywhere east of the Baethorn highway… And I had only travelled its length once from Brustilk to Clotop to get to my older sister’s residence in the first place.
This sight. This place. It felt different.
The good kind of different. This is what it felt like to be on the other side of the coach station. To be the one leaving for some strange new place.
Having recuperated enough since arriving at Lakepoint yesterday, I decided it was time to find transport to the second of many stops in my journey and headed back to the coach station.
Since it was already early afternoon, I was able to find the station master at her office. I had tried talking to her in the morning, but she had been swamped between dozens upon dozens of delivery requests and arrivals. I had tried to muscle my way but in vain.
“Excuse me.”
I said as I knocked on the open door.
The bespectacled woman raised her head from one of her logbooks and put on a polite expression.
“Yes? What can I do for you, ma’am?”
She asked pleasantly enough, although I could tell from her tapping foot that she felt far from enthused.
“I’m seeking passage to Sunvale.”
I asked her with a bow of the head, which elicited an amused smirk on her part.
It seems my years of maid training have yet to wear away. I’ll have to pay more attention, or I might draw unwarranted attention to myself.
“T’ Sunvale you say? Mmmhh… There won’t be many caravans willing to make the trip since we’re a wee bit out o’ season...”
Thinking I understood what she was getting at, I nodded.
“That won’t be an issue. I’m more than happy to cover the necessary costs.”
Her mouth pursed to one side.
“Well, that’s only part of it… Not many people are willing to do one-way trips like that, so you won’t be swamped with choices”
I shook my head.
“I’m not picky.”
“Good! Because I have exactly one driver in mind who might be willing to make that trip!”
She stood up from her seat and headed out of her office.
“If You’ll follow me…”
I nodded and followed her through the yard. Passing dozens of carriages before stopping before a seemingly empty cart.
She cleared her throat.
“Milord, I have a client for you.”
I was about to ask her who she was talking to when a man sprang from underneath a pile of objects scattered on the carriage’s hold, sending them flying all over.
Taken aback, I was worried we had surprised him as I looked at all the strange foreign items on the floor, but when I raised my eyes to the man now standing proud, I understood.
Completely bald with uneven features, comically round and fat, dressed in strange colourful clothes, and, most prominently, skin so green he could rival a tree.
There was no question, this man was a Diidkin, a kin of the god of luck and chaos.
Diidkins were renowned to be especially peculiar individuals, whimsical in every one of their actions, unreliable, annoying, and rude, but frustratingly lucky.
It is said that you either love or hate them, and I guess today was the day I would be finding out on what side of the fence I stood.
“Tarlia! Tarlia! It’s Milord Diid! Or Diid Milord! Don’t forget.”
The stocky diidkin boomed, earning him a disapproving shake of the head from the station master.
“Even from you, I won’t approve of using the names of the gods in vain, Milord.”
She scolded him harshly.
An uncomfortable shiver ran through my spine as well. I may not be noble, but I was brought up well enough to know how inappropriate the joke was. This could easily earn one a few lashings or even a day at the stock.
“My bad! My bad, Tarlia!”
The diidkin continued while laughing.
He climbed down from his perch and stood on the ground facing us. He was surprisingly tall. Almost a head over me. It would have been intimidating if he hadn’t been wearing such a strange expression on his face and his belly hadn’t been bulging under his clothes in such a comical fashion.
“So, you said something about a client? I imagine that might have to do with the scorn’s kin at your side.”
He stated, giving me yet another shiver.
I have been called many slurs in my life, but being referred to as a kin was a first.
Not running to my defence this time, the station master simply nodded.
“And where would you like to go today, little lady?”
He asked, a strangely polite, albeit crooked, smile drawing itself on his face.
I cleared my throat, trying to shake any potential hiccups from my voice.
“To Sunvale, Mi-lord.”
I wasn’t quite sure if Milord was supposed to be a name or a title. Both felt wrong, but I decided to pronounce them in an ambiguous enough way that no confusion would be drawn.
“Ah, yes, Sunvale. Before Sunfield, before Alenia, before the odd one and before Norland, but after her lake. Yes, Sunvale, a nice destination. Not too far, but not so close that it wouldn’t be entertaining. Only about a week or so. Yes, Sunvale is nice this time of year. Very hot though”
He said strangely. As though he was muttering to himself, but out loud.
Milord smiled widely, exposing a mouth filled with too many teeth, too many by any account.
“Sure! I’ll take you there!~”
He declared
The negotiations afterwards were short-lived.
The strange coach driver had been so immersed in throwing away enough of his trinkets to make space for my luggage that when the station master had named a price, he had simply approved it with a dismissive, but somehow not disrespectful, grunt.
I was confused by the pile of objects littering the side of the carriage, but the station master seemed unshaken.
Perhaps it was typical of coach drivers to just spring clean their carriage once in a while? I could tell some of the things he was throwing on the floor must have held some value, so someone would profit from this littering. It was still curious that this man didn’t bother trying to profit himself. Perhaps this was due to his Diid blood?
Within the hour, we had departed from the coach station with my luggage and enough provisions for the trip in tow.
I had seated myself on a bench fitted on one side of the carriage bed.
The heat was stifling, but luckily, the coach driver had rolled up the side tarpaulin, leaving the top fabric to shield us from the blazing sun. It might be a bit rustic, but the extra leg room from being the only passenger and the humid wind coming from the lake surface made for a very relaxing atmosphere…
Or at least could have been very relaxing if I wasn’t sharing it with my Diidkin driver.
“...and did you know that they make this dish called ‘sand-cured kebab’? Basically, instead of smoking or salting it, they wrap pieces of meat around those wooden sticks, you see? And they stick them in the sand for a whole day. So by the night, the heat has cooked them all the way through!”
Why is he telling me this? What do I do with that information?
He had been telling me random trivia for almost half a day now.
“Is that so?”
I simply answered, trying my best to enjoy the breeze lest the heat or his voice make my head pop.
I honestly just wanted to ignore him, but any time I simply kept quiet, he just started to speak louder.
“Very much! Cadavan has beautiful deserts!”
“Cadavan? I thought Solom was where the deserts were.”
I half-heartedly replied with a random thought.
“Common misconception for people living here in the west. Solom is actually mostly jungles and plains. Cadavan and Leviath are where the real deserts are!”
“How do you know?”
“Well, simple! I’ve been there!”
I felt my nose crumple up.
“You’ve been all the way to Solom? How…?”
He let out a hearty laugh.
“Well, by carriage, of course!”
I dug in my memory for what little geography I knew.
“But I heard the boat ride from Avlir can take weeks alone…”
He chuckled at my retort.
“I see that you have read ‘A Journeyman’s Chronicle to Redal’!”
I felt my ears turn red.
“How– How did you…”
“Oh, no need to feel shy! Many people have! It was one of the most popular books of its time! Although the author was quite eccentric. In fact, so eccentric that he implied that the best travel route to Solom was, as you said, through Alvir. But that’s completely wrong. In fact, if you were to travel to Alvir to head to Solomon, your travel time could almost double! We’re talking a full additional year or much more if you can’t afford a horse! No, no, no. Absolutely not. Passing by Alvir is simply the ‘scenic route’. If you want to travel to Solomon, you have to head south from the Theocracy all the way through Paramein.”
Paramein? I leaned back in my seat. The continent of Redal was often described as a line with three dips, but Paramein and Alvir were on two different dips; how could they both lead to Solom?
“I’m not sure I understand.”
I admitted.
“Hahaha!”
I heard him laugh heartily again.
“By any chance, have you never seen a world map?”
He asked with a glint in his eye.
“Well, of course not! I’ve seldom seen maps of Firsland, and those are expensive enough! How could I afford a map of the entire world?”
I responded, annoyed.
Maps were very expensive.
As opposed to books, maps couldn’t be mass-produced through blessings, so each of them had to be painstakingly drawn by hand. Details couldn’t be spared on a map, since the lives of travellers could hinge on it, so drawing the entire world was…
“Oh, but that’s just because you’re looking at the wrong type of maps! Here hold these…”
Before I even had the time to react, he released his grip on the horses. Panicked, I jumped forward and grabbed the reins while he turned around and, quite gracefully considering his round shape, pilfered through the pile of items stored in the bed of the carriage.
I was frozen stiff with fear. Not only had I never driven a carriage, but I was also deathly afraid of horses. With their huge size and loud hooves, I was always scared they would just yank me aside and step on me.
After a few more agonising seconds, he finally finished whatever he was doing and turned to me.
He looked at me for a moment and exploded in laughter.
“You know that the horses know how to stay on the road, right? I just didn’t want the reins to fall to the ground!”
I felt my cheeks turn red, but still did my best to look composed as I handed back the reins to the kin. I took my seat as he continued laughing.
“HAHAHA you’re a riot, Scorn lady!”
“Please call me Jace, Milord.”
I said, as I looked away in embarrassment.
“HAHAHA! Ok ok. Of course, Jace. Here, take a look.”
He said as he handed me a rolled piece of parchment.
Curious, I unfolded the yellow paper.
“This is a ‘maritime map’, it’s used by sailors. It’s not as detailed, but you can really see the whole wide thing, can’t you?”
Before me was a map, but not any map. It was a ‘world map’ as Milord called it. I slowly traced my finger over each of the country’s names, starting from Firsland. It then went toward Theocracy, where her ladyship resided. It continued through Morrow and then Avlir. I then slowly traced the coast I had read about so many times in books, all the way down to the tip, pointed straight at Solom.
I quickly realised that Milord was right. It would be much faster to travel through Esliev, Simery and Paramein, but…
I had a strange feeling in my chest.
My eyes were led back to Firsland. A tiny rectangle of a kingdom, tucked in the corner, barely visible. I put the tip of my index finger at its top-leftmost corner. This finger. The small area underneath it. In my whole life, with months of travelling. I had never travelled outside of the tiny area underneath my finger right now.
When I was young, I had dreamed of going to the Theocracy. Perhaps to take an oath and become a Seeir Kinsmann or even join the Septenary, but that wasn’t really important. I had simply wanted to be there. See the Pearl towers with my own eyes or climb the thousand steps to the Conference…
To me, this would have been the journey of a lifetime. Something only achievable in a dream, and now… I learn that the strange green sillyman sitting in front of me had gone all the way to Solom. A whole other continent away.
This feeling… In a sense, it was a bit like respect. Respect for his ability to make the trip and come back without a care in the world, but… It left a bitter taste as well.
As I mulled over these emotions, Milord continued talking endlessly about his travel, while my eyes were glued to the map.
Comments
Waur
I conceptualised Firsland as being some sort of "Cultural center of influence". Evergreen itself could be equated to a sort of Vatican or Jerusalem in our world. It has this almost 'mythical status', giving it incredible 'soft power' and influence.
1v1 Me, No Items, Fox only, Final Destination
Love to see a world map! Firsland is a much smaller part of it than I was expecting. Also: Strage Coach Driver.
