Autumn is in full swing in Tryan Gully. The tavern is abuzz with people bringing the results of their harvests to be cooked and served to their citizens. Humans, elves, monsters, everyone brought something. The sounds of chopping vegetables and fires being lit is heard from the kitchen as an orc frantically takes inventory of the ingredients citizens had donated to the party. Once everything on the counter had been taken into account, he heard new footsteps entering the bar. He sighed and turned around.
"The food won't be ready for a few hours damn it. Unless you're adding to the donations or want to help out, please le..." He looks to the figure, a woman in a thick cloak. "Oh, didn't expect to see you again this year." He leans forward on the bar. "You really need to stop coming unannounced. Kefka and I can only vouch for you for so long before the council starts getting on our asses. If you folks weren't so isolated and closely aligned with Empyrea I'd probably be in trouble. I'm guessing you're here to see kjæresten din?" He whispers.
The woman sets a basket on the table. "Tell them I don't come here on behalf of my nation as a spy. I come here because I want to. For the same reasons, I am giving you some of our local crops. Fresh mashua and strong ginger, the bounty of the Godbird's blessing on our land." The orc examined the tubers before taking a bite.
"You didn't try to poison me, so that's good. I've never come across this vegetable before. It's... unique. Texture of a potato with the flavor of a radish. How do you usually use it?"
The woman took a seat on a barstool. "It can be grated into salads, but most of the time we either mash them, fry them or use it in soup. I usually fry cubes of it and mix into my rice with grilled mushrooms and fish. " Throk ate the rest of the tuber before returning to his previous task.
"I'd love to keep talking food with you, but I have a lot to make and little time to do it. The people of Tryan Gully thank you for your donation Motoko. Kef closed shop about an hour ago so he's probably home by now." The woman nodded and left. Throk sighed and placed the basket under the counter. "Aldri et kjedelig øyeblikk på denne tiden av året. Hva kan jeg lage med dette?"
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At Kefka's house, the man had just finished cleaning and was laying down to nap after a long day of work. As he is about to close his eyes, he hears a knock at his door. He sighs and sits up in his bed as Howard hops toward the door. The slime opens the door as Kefka is putting his glasses back on. The ranger tiredly approaches the entryway.
"I already closed the shop for the day Zhubin. What do you ne..." His eyes widen as he sees who is at his door. "Come in Motoko. You must be freezing."
The woman steps inside and opens her cloak, revealing her costume. "Thank Empyrea the tavern is so warm. It's pretty chilly outside. How have you been Kefka?" The man was awestruck.
"You actually did it. I should've made a Yangus costume. Wait, you stopped by the tavern?" She removes her cloak and sets in on a small table near the entrance.
"You're too tall and skinny to be Yangus. I gave Throk a basket of ginger and mashua. It's probably better if I start contributing to local events if I'm coming here regularly. Don't worry, there's still plenty of food to feed the people at home." She wraps her right arm around him. "You wearing Yangus's vest would make it easier to feel your skin on mine. So warm." Kefka returns the hug.
"I also missed you. Your skin is pretty cold though. What's the cloak made of?"
"A few layers of silk with some chocobo feathers in between. It protects against the wind fairly well, but it isn't very warm. Even in the mountains, it doesn't get this cold very often at home." The two let go of each other.
"You don't have wool or cotton there either. Bamboo isn't really flexible enough to make into cloth, not without a lot of work anyway... This isn't something I thought about before. Do you need something to wear under it when we go back to Throk's?" Motoko shook her head and took a seat on Kefka's couch.
"I just need to warm up by the fire for a while. My arm should be fine by the time the party starts in town." She holds her metal hand up to the fire burning in Kefka's fireplace. "You never said how you were doing."
Howard plants himself in front of the fire like a gelatinous housecat as Kefka takes a seat next to his love. "Things have been pretty calm here. I talked to Zarguth about the bazaar last week. Neither of us are really sure if anything changed between the orcs and Argonia, but it's pretty much out of our hands now. Have you and Yasuhiro discussed the music showcase with your people?"
Motoko leaned against Kefka's shoulder.
"We did the day after we returned. They haven't made a decision, but they said we'd have another meeting about it after this year ends. If Argonia asks us about it before the next bazaar... I don't know at this point. We'd be sending more people there than we had ever considered before. I wouldn't perform for sure, but Yasuhiro might." Kefka wrapped an arm around Motoko's shoulder.
"Both of you know how to play an instrument? I didn't know that. The music I heard last time I was there was very interesting. I'd like to hear more."
"Yasuhiro knows how to play two, but he usually plays Taiko. You remember those giant drums that were in the center of the festival? Those are Taiko. He also plays the Shakuhachi, a bamboo flute. My instrument is the koto. I only started playing again last year though. After losing my arm I stopped playing because I thought I'd have to relearn it. Then I saw it in the corner of my room one day and decided to see if I could still play. It was a little stiffer than what I remember, but I could still play even with the prosthetic." She mimicked plucking the strings in her lap.
"So that's what those are called. I saw a few people playing them at the initiation festival. It's played similarly to an instrument from Orkutsk called the Kantele, but doesn't sound anything like one." He adjusts himself to a more comfortable position while maintaining contact with Motoko. "My grandmother taught my mom how to play it and she'd strum it while singing lullabies to me as a baby. I haven't heard one being played the last few times I went back to Orkutsk though." Motoko snuggled in closer to Kefka.
"I'd love to hear one someday. Maybe next time we go see your grandparents."
Kefka sat up and stoked the fire. "Will you be able to come this year? I'm sure they'd love to see you again." Motoko placed her hands in her lap. A look of apprehension crossed her face.
"Unfortunately not. I knew I'd have to talk about this when I came here, but I was hoping to do so after the party." She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Yasuhiro and I did well enough in the Master tournament that they're going to start training us to join their ranks. Aoi has named Yasuhiro as the successor to the kestrel style when he retires. That won't be for a few years at least, but he will be taking on students of his own once his training is complete to train in that style alongside Aoi. He may develop his own style eventually as well." She kneels next to Kefka while looking toward the fire. "As for me, father says he has an idea. I'm not experienced enough in any one of the specific skills our masters have to replace them, but he said I have something they don't. I have an idea what that is, but he said we'll talk about privately soon. Today is the last time I will be able to see or speak with you for several months." She turns to Kefka and kisses him. "I want this to be a night we both remember the entire time we're apart." She says, placing her right hand on his hip.
Kefka was shocked, but melted into the kiss. "Howard, go check on Winston. After that, make sure the fire doesn't go out." He picks Motoko up by the hips and carries her to his bedroom. There's still a couple hours until the party starts he thinks as he closes the door with his foot.
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