Fallen One (Book three of Alfireán age)

- On The Road Again -

"Why does it smell like fish?" Pony complained as she and her sisters climbed the ladder. Clambering onto the large, traveling device, the maid strolled over to the striped tent mounted on the takoorah where the others waited.

Alf sniffed the air and knelt down next to Olivia who was already attending to a young man with a nasty gash in his forearm. His nose crinkled in distaste. It definitely smelled like fish: fish with a distinctive sea odor at that.

"It's Vackzilian's holy fish," Ritsa answered, skipping to Olivia's side. The little girl leaned forward and gazed with big blue eyes as Livy removed the bandage on the wounded man's arm.

"Were moving out," Zindelo suddenly called out as he headed towards the lead traveling device. "Pack it up!"

"Vackzilian's holy fish?" Zaphaniea asked in confusion. Eyeing the ladder with disdain, the grand champion skipped it altogether and used her spheres to create a staircase.

"She's referring to our cargo: sablefish," the blonde clean-shaven man, Olivia currently tended to, stated. His grey eyes widened as he watched the grand champion casually stroll through the air and onto the takoorah. "You can fly?" he exclaimed, looking at her with eyes full of wonder.

Zaphaniea shrugged and waved her hand. Her invisible spheres moved closer, and Drake climbed the magical staircase.

"Of course they can," Ritsa said, crossing her arms. "I told you they're angels."

Alf smiled as blue streams poured from his fingers and into Olivia's healing spell. "No, we're not. We're just traveling adventurers," he corrected.

A motion out of the corner of his eye pulled Alf's attention to the rearmost takoorah. A handful of gypsy men were secretly using earth magic to bury a load of nondescript boxes in the meadow. So that's what they're doing with the cargo we displaced, Alf thought to himself. It made sense; that way the gypsies could come back and pick up their goods later.

He shook his head. Alf hadn't known the gypsy leader long, but it definitely seemed like something Zindelo would do. He was not the type of man to simply throw out potential profit.

"A little help," Rex called out helplessly from where he stood at the bottom of the ladder, trying to climb it without much success.

"Can't you just jump up froggy," Zaphaniea asked, placing her hands on her hips and grinning toothily at the vice-champion.

"Yeah, I could if it wasn't for old mask face," he said, angrily gesturing at his foot.

The grand champion bent over the side of the takoorah and pulled him up. "Why are you so helpless sometimes?" she sighed.

The vice-champion glared at her. "I am not," he declared defensively.

"Hey," Zaphaniea said, her eyes flinching. "There's no need to yell. You're such a cry-"

"What are sablefish?" Alf jumped in, sensing another bout of the duos antagonistic banter coming on.

But instead of one of the gypsies answering like he'd expected, Drake spoke up from where he'd plopped himself in the corner under the tent. "Sablefish," the prince said as the large traveling device shifted underneath them, "are a type of saltwater fish originally native to the North Pacific. But after the dragons moved the continents, they were almost hunted into extinction. Due to the fact they are bottom feeders and love to travel large distances, it makes them rather difficult to domesticate. Bluewater city is the only place in the world that currently cultivates them, and Sablefish is their main export."