Rippling water disappeared into fog. It was a sight to make any traveler apprehensive; although logic said that the river’s distant shore had to be out there somewhere beyond the mist, it was too far for the naked eye to see.
Nevertheless, Pacifica Casull didn’t seem the least bit worried.
She stood near the docks and gazed out across the river, a smile of excitement on her face. She looked to be in her mid-teens. Her striking, sun-streaked blonde hair often seen among the nobility of the Linevan Kingdom was tied behind her head. Despite her slight frame and innocent expression, something about her implied an unexpected toughness that one might find in a stray cat. Her tan and vermillion travel clothing was kissed with tiny water droplets from the mist.
“Wow!” she exclaimed, leaning out over the water. “I wonder if this is what the ocean looks like?”
“I’ve heard the ocean smells different,” the girl sitting beside her replied. She was Pacifica’s adoptive sister, Raquel. Raquel was an older girl of about twenty, with black hair that reached down to her waist. Despite the sinister black cloak she wore, it would be impossible to imagine someone less frightening—Raquel’s face seemed permanently frozen in an expression of good-natured contentedness.
“Really?” Pacifica turned to her sister in disbelief.
“Father once told me that.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense—salt doesn’t smell like anything. He must’ve been playing a joke on you.” The blonde girl scrunched up her face in thought. “I know that ocean water is supposed to be salty, so it must be a different kind of water… but wait! Aren’t rivers connected to the ocean?”
The older girl shrugged. “I think so.”
“So shouldn’t the ocean water keep getting less and less salty with all that fresh water being dumped into it?”
“Maybe it does,” Raquel replied. “It makes sense.”
Blissfully unaware of how ridiculous they sounded, the two young women gazed out across the water as they bobbed their heads in unison.
The Mosburg river flowed through the eastern part of the Linevan Kingdom and served as a border between the central kingdom and its outer regions. It was well known as one of the five major rivers of the Dustovin Continent, and was so wide that many travelers coming across it for the first time mistook it for a sea or giant lake. Despite its gentle current, it was so wide that it took an entire day for boats powered by horses or cows to cross, and up to three days for smaller boats rowed by men with oars.
Commerce across the river was common, and most merchants preferred to make the relaxed, if lengthy, journey across the river at its wider points rather than risk crossing its narrow yet rapid tributaries upstream. The towns on both sides of the river that flourished from the brisk ferry business were called West and East Mosburg, named for the river that gave the residents their livelihood.
Pier Four in East Mosburg mainly served boats used to transport travelers. There were so many types and sizes of boats (for different types and sizes of passengers) that the dock was like a ship exhibition. Pacifica and Raquel waited, their small horse-drawn carriage resting innocently behind them. Of course, upon closer inspection, their common-looking carriage was far from common—many unexpected pieces of equipment were installed around the black frame, not unlike on fully armed military carriages.
But even the most careful observer wouldn’t be able to see the most unusual thing about them.
“I wonder what’s taking Shannon so long.” Pacifica sighed as she slumped against the coach, which was coated with fire resistant paint.
“I’ve heard that fewer boats cross the river during the flooding season. It’s probably hard to find an inexpensive ride for all of us,” Raquel replied as she absently fed the nearest horse. Without the animals, it might’ve been easier to find a ferry across, but their horses had been their traveling companions for so long that Raquel had vehemently opposed selling them and buying new ones on the opposite shore.
“Oh, there he is.” Pacifica pointed to a young man with a long black ponytail, a single-edged foreign sword called a tachi at his hip and a scowl on his face. “Hey, Shannon!” she called out across the docks as he walked over from the Mosburg Riverboat Union office. “What took you so long, slowpoke?!”
Shannon rolled his eyes. Despite being Raquel’s age, the listless look in his eyes exuded a far older calm. It was as though he had attained a half-baked enlightenment regarding the ways of the world—or a slanted view of everything on Earth.
“If you’re in such a hurry, do it yourself next time.”
“But you’re the one who carries our money, Shannon.” This was true, although not by Shannon’s choice.
It wasn’t that he was particularly good with money, but neither his adoptive sister nor his twin could be trusted in the least. Pacifica loved spending money and would immediately waste it on expensive food and luxurious lodgings at every town or village they passed, and Raquel, despite being Shannon’s twin, shared none of his common sense and liked to unthinkingly buy any trinket or souvenir that caught her fancy. At least with Shannon controlling the money they had enough to feed themselves.
Or had, up until this point. Crossing the river would probably clean out what little money they had left, if they could afford passage at all.
Shannon sighed and patted his pocket. It didn’t matter how broke they were—his sisters always thought of him as a skinthrift.
“No matter what happens, we’re going to have to be really careful with money from now on.”
“You’re always careful with money, Shannon!” Pacifica exclaimed. “You’d make an amazing housewife— you’d manage household expenses like a pro.”
“What are you talking about?” Shannon gave his younger sister a look.
“You’re already good at cooking and doing laundry, and your hair’s kinda girly, too. You’ll make someone a lovely bride someday!”
“At least I have some useful skills, unlike some spoiled princesses I know. You couldn’t be anyone’s wife—you can’t even take care of yourself.”
Pacifica stomped indignantly. “I don’t care! I’m never getting married anyway! And… and I bet you’d cry your eyes out every time your mother-in-law picked on you!”
Shannon knew there was no way he could stop Pacifica at a time like this—she’d keep arguing until she got bored or something happened to distract her. He looked to Raquel for help, and was surprised to see a different emotion behind the suppressed laughter of her usual expression.
“What now?” Shannon sighed.
“I bet when Pacifica wants to get married you’re going to be completely against it,” she replied. “Aren’t you?”
“Well, there aren’t many men I’d approve of. If she marries someone who can’t take care of her, they’ll both die of starvation within a month.”
Upon hearing this, Pacifica took a wild swing at her brother, but he managed to catch her forehead in his palm and hold her at arm’s length. She swung her arms furiously, but couldn’t reach him. With his attacker thus restrained, Shannon calmly turned to his twin.
“So I take it you couldn’t find us a boat?” Raquel asked him.