Hariş knocked on the door to Samaha's shop. The old man spent most of his days cooped up, tinkering with mechanisms Hariş could only hope to understand someday. His calling was cutting down trees, not making fine tables and chairs out of wood, or building tools to tell time. He did find what Samaha Körhan dedicated himself to, to be rather fascinating. And the stories the man told Hariş when he was nothing but a child, staring at him working with a flicker of awe in his eyes, kept Hariş entertained.

Everyone in their village thought Samaha Körhan was a particular man. Maybe a bit crazy. But his craft was respected in all of Adhan, and even with the constant goings and comings between the King's City and neighboring cities, Samaha was adamant on settling in Elsęr, where no one seemed to understand him. Hariş had heard all sorts of things be said about the man, mothers telling their sons and daughters to stay away from Samaha since he filled heads with stories that could scandalize the Essences themselves. Hariş didn't mind Samaha's particularities. He found that they made the man who he was, and one couldn't be detached from the other.

The bells on top of the door jingled as Hariş pushed the door open. Samaha sat by the counter, staring at a sand clock. His white tuft of hair was hidden under a large hat. He looked up, placing the clock back on his work surface and removed his monocle from his pale, wrinkled skin. And then Samaha smiled, a toothy grin that did nothing to quench the ramblings about his craziness.

"Hariş Bar Huşęk Koha! It has been a staggering two months, three weeks, five days, three hours and ten minutes, since you last visited my shop. I was starting to think you forgot about me, boy."

Hariş smiled back at him. "Forgive me, Samaha Ahan. It slipped my mind, and then you must have heard about my mother."

"Yes, I did hear. I would say I am trying to find the time to visit, but time surrounds me, boy!"

Hariş gave the room a quick sweep with his eyes. It hadn't changed much in the two months he hadn't visited. There was still an unimaginable number of clocks hanging on the walls. Last time Hariş had counted just above forty-two clocks. But Samaha kept busy and had possibly added to his creations since then. There was a new violet colored one in the farthest corner, simple in design, unlike most of the ones Samaha created. The man said he appreciated the intricacies of the craft, and the more detail he could add to his craftmanship, the better it was. Usually, the clocks were golden in color, coming in all sorts of shapes, with intricate swirls in their frames. The violet one stood out in its simplicity, because Samaha Körhan was the furthest thing away from a simple man.

"Well, if you can spare the time, I'm sure my mother would love your company."

"It gladdens my heart that she is getting stronger again. I still remember all those days back long ago. So full of life, her and that Huşęk of hers. Took the village quite by storm. I hadn't seen so much indignation at the prospect of a marriage since the dawn of time." He fiddled with the sand clock again, flipping it and watching its contents fall back down. "I told her back then that they were good for each other, and for all her hot-headedness, she listened to me. I was a wise man in my youth."

Hariş raised an eyebrow. He wasn't shocked Samaha knew Haşara and Huşęk in his youth. He had always figured that was the case. Their village was small, and everyone knew everyone. "You were wise in your youth?"

Samaha nodded. "A lot of the elders think wisdom is earned as the ages go on. But I have seen love, jealousy and passions of all sorts to know that time gives nothing but foolishness. Everyone thinks me mad for it, except maybe your mother."

"I do not think you mad."

"Correct. You think me old. And know better than to interrupt the delusions of an old clockmaker. So how may I help you, Hariş Bar Huşęk her Haşara Koha?"

Hariş thought about his words, once or twice. He did not want to appear to be begging. But the snows had stopped falling now, and work would be scarce for the coming months until trading season started up again and merchants from the Fredhar made their way down towards Adhan. Their village would be one of the first points of contact, and he would earn a good amount of coin then, but he couldn't wait for so long, especially since his situation was dire. He needed coin, and he needed it fast. And there was no better to get it than Samaha Körhan. All his particularities aside, Samaha was a kind man. And Hariş had no intention of taking advantage of that kindness.

"Köl and I will be travelling to the King's City soon."

Samaha cocked an eyebrow at him. His thick white eyebrows almost reached his hairline, and the wrinkles on his forehead were telling of the passing of time. "And I assume you don't mean Köl the idiot?"

He shook his head. Samaha was one of the few people who was comfortable with talking about Köl Bar Bonłes to other people in a negative light, and possibly the only person who did not hold the Bonłes family with high regard. Maran Bonłes offered loans, and practically owned most of the businesses the village had, except for Samaha's. Almost everyone owed him something, and he was usually kind in when he expected people to repay him. What the people felt for him was somewhere between fear and respect. Hariş was indifferent. He didn't owe Maran Bonłes anything, and he wasn't going to start now.

"No. Not him. I wanted to know if you had any work for me. I need coin for the crossing."

"You need quite a bit for the crossing. Five crowns for an easy crossing, and maybe twenty silvers for one on the cargo ships in Röhęr Jęhil."

"I'm not going for a luxury crossing."

Samaha nodded again. He pushed himself off his stool. He was man of short stature. Short and wide. He wore a simple red tunic with a belt sitting below his gut. "Of course. Of course." He removed the coin purse from his belt and shook it making the coins chime. Then he opened it taking out a polished gold coin and placed it on the counter. He did the same with a bright silver coin and then with a dull orange, thought the coloring leaned more towards brown, coin. "The King's Marks. Vinłari. Widely used in all the realms, from Adhan to Fredhar to the inner depths of Drakkos. The only place they aren't used? The Badlands. Have you heard of the Badlands?"

"Everyone has heard of The Badlands. It's the prison," Haris answered.

"Yes, Drakkos and Adhan throw their worst criminals in there, because it's 'safer' than a cell in the dungeons of the King's City. You can escape a cell, not the Badlands. The King's Marks, I would think are not of much use in the Badlands. Criminals have no use for coin."

"Sorry, Samaha Ahan, but is there reason you're telling me this?"

"If you'll indulge the ramblings of an old man, yet again, Hariş Bar Koha. I find it rather laughable that some societies like Ashol view currency as mostly irrelevant and prefer to trade in goods or services. They do that by choice, obviously, but in the Badlands, it's irrelevant because they have, I can only assume, no need for it, and would prefer practical items over coin. And yet, here in Adhan, these marks laid out in front of you do all the talking." He paused and then added one more coin to each pile. "You can't go to a sailor and offer your service for a crossing. He and his crewmates would kick you and leave you for dead, because not offering even the lowest of marks-" he pointed to the coppers, "is considered an insult. But if you offered them one crown, they would call you a thief, because this," he showed the gold coins, "is for royalty, the Kings and Queens who sit on their thrones and smile down at their people and their important friends. And merchants who operate in the right circles. The kind of marks you have in your pocket tell this sorry lot the kind of person you are, and how much respect they owe you.

"If you offered a man twenty silver, it is the same as offering one crown. Yet you, in your current state, would be arrested if you offered a man one crown, but overlooked if you gave him twenty silver. Why is that?"

Hariş would have sighed or ran his hands through his hair if he thought Samaha would take it nicely. Last time he had done that in the man's presence, he had gotten an earful and wished he never did so in the first place. He didn't repeat a mistake to learn his lesson. Once was more than enough.

"Anyway, I think I've tortured your ears enough. The last time I was in the King's City, I got an order for a clock, as I always do. It appears that I finished it well before all the others, and I have no intention of traveling before I complete the rest of my work. And usually, I would never do this, but out of the love and respect I had for your father, and that I rather enjoy your company, I'll help you." He put his coin purse on the counter in front of him and started taking out more coins. "Eighty silvers for your crossing, another thirty for a room at a passable inn. Fifty coppers for food and any other minor service you might need. And one crown."

"Why the crown?" The polished gold coin had an open clock face engraved on it. Hariş had never seen one up close, let alone three. He knew Samaha Körhan frequented the highest of social circles, but this was confirmation of it.

"I'll accompany it with a letter signed by me. But mostly, it will help you prove that you aren't selling a fake Samaha Körhan clock. That and I want to test a theory. If you don't come back, I will simply assume you've been thrown into the Badlands. But I should hope you aren't."

*

*

*

Hariş couldn't remember the last time he had so much money on his person. He had the value of one hundred and fifteen silver in his coin pouch, and along with what he had saved at home, and whatever Köl had, between the two of them, they would have more than enough to spend a handful of weeks in the King's City, while they searched for what they needed. Hariş wasn't sure of the nature of this supposed cure that bought his mother time, and he didn't know who to ask either. He knew it was an elixir of some sort, according to what his mother told him, but other than that, he knew very little about it.

He busied himself in his room, packing a small bag for what he would need for the journey. He didn't own much, so the task was particularly easy. The cloak that belonged to his father would come with him, and so would his childhood blanket –for nothing else other than the sentimentality it offered. The talisman, which he attached to string and now wore around his neck, would come with him too. Sometimes, he felt ridiculous walking around with it dangling from his neck, but it felt good to have it on his person, as if it was always meant to be there somehow.

Hariş hoped he would find Atęċ, who the talisman supposedly belonged to, in the King's City and give it back. Or maybe to ask him questions to understand the significance of it and why it needed to be kept safe at all costs. The questions surrounding it were more interesting than the object itself. He fiddled with it occasionally, but nothing special happened. Not like it would anyway. Miraculous happenings weren't commonplace, no matter how much you prayed and sacrificed to the Essences. The only two Essences of Vinnas that manifested themselves regularly were the Essence of Creation, found in every birth and in every tree that sprouted from the ground, and the Essence of Death. If manifestations of the other Essences occurred, he had never seen it. There was a lot he hadn't seen anyway.

The door to his room creaked open and Nuşrahał came in. She came in the morning while he was at Samaha's shop and stayed for the better part of the morning. It was now a bit after noon, and she was still there after bringing something to eat.

"Can we talk?" Nuşrahał asked.

Hariş looked up from where he was hunched on the ground to her. She looked worried. Less full of life and joy than usual. It wasn't hard to tell when something was bothering her. He spent so much time around her that he had becoming attuned to her emotions in a way of Köl was supposed to be. Though he felt nothing towards her that mirrored what his friend did. Nuşrahał felt more like a sister to him than she did a friend.

"Sit, please."

He adjusted his position so that he was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Haşara Ihan is asleep. That's why I came." She sat down in front of him and pushed a strand of red hair away from her face. Her other hand rested on her stomach. It did that a lot nowadays. Hariş had thought to ask what that was about, but he figured it didn't concern him.

"Is something troubling you?"

"I'm with child, Hariş."

He took in a sharp intake of breath and exhaled slowly. That explained the hand. It explained quite a bit. The odd sicknesses, the aversion to certain smells she never mentioned to hate before. More than anything it explained the worried look she had on her face more often than not nowadays. "I'm assuming I'm not the father?" He joked.

A smile cracked on her face, followed by muffled laughter. "It's not funny, Hariş."

"I'm aware. Should I congratulate you or not?"

"I don't know yet. I haven't told him."

"Have you tried?"

Nuşrahał nodded. "I tried last night. But he talked about how you're leaving soon."

His eyebrows joined. He saw where she was coming from. He didn't want her to raise a child on her own, and Köl wouldn't either. But Köl and him were leaving for the King's City, and Nuşrahał was unmarried. In a few months, she would start showing and everyone would know about it by then. Scandal rarely graced the streets of Elsęr. The villagers would feast on it and run her good name through the muddiest of lands.

"Köl wants children," he found himself saying. He couldn't think of anything else other than that. They had broached the subject of children one time, and his friend hadn't been against the idea of having a family of his own.

"I know. But not now. You know not now. I need you to tell him for me. Please. He's excited about going to the King's City with you and joining the King's Guard. It's his dream, you know that. I can't be the one to walk all over it. He'll hate me."

"He could never hate you, Nuşra. You should know that. But if it eases your worry, I'll talk to him about it for you."

He would tell him. He figured the best way to do it was to just go ahead and do it without thinking of the possible consequences. Köl was going to be a father. Hariş would have to embark on the journey to the King's City alone. He understood the need of wanting to make dreams come true, but some things took precedence. Reality took precedence. And reality meant Köl had to stay back and care for the family he had unwillingly started.

"Will you ask him to stay back and not leave me?" Nuşrahał asked.

Hariş wanted to reach out to her. But she was called for. Even this, a good three feet apart, on the floor in his room, was already crossing the line of what was considered decent. Propriety demanded he didn't touch her, even if he meant to comfort her. Instead, he gave her a weak smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'll tell him to stay back. I doubt he would want to leave you in your state anyway." He pushed himself off the ground and wiped his trousers with his hand. He would go by the cliff with Köl and hopefully they would have the chance to talk it through. Hariş didn't want to make the journey on his own, and Köl had been as far south as Röhęr Jęhil before. His knowledge was invaluable, but Hariş would have to make do without.

"Thank you."

"It's the least I can do. And if I can help you in any other way, let me know." Hariş reached for his cloak on his hay mattress and put it on. It didn't do much for the cold as it had been worn out with time, but he liked the feel of it. More than he did before now that he knew the significance of it. His mother still talked about Huşęk as much as she could before tiredness took over and she had to rest her eyes. He clung to her stories, though she didn't provide much detail now, and he cursed himself for not wanting to know about his father sooner. "I'll be back."

He walked away from her with resolve in his step, keeping his coin pouch close to his person. He needed to do right by everyone around him, and his soul would not let him sleep easy knowing he withheld such news. Köl deserved to know, and if Nuşrahał couldn't bring herself to make him aware, so much so that she asked for help, then Hariş would be a bad friend and an even worse person if he withheld his help.

The midday sun dimly blared down onto the streets of Elsęr. The trees were naked, and the melting snow crunched under his boots. He walked, greeting the same faces he saw every single day for the past twenty-three years of his life. It was all the same, one tight smile here, a genuine hello there, and some greetings that fell on the intersection of both. He tolerated most of the people at best, some like Köl Bar Bonłes he could not stand to be within a few feet of them. But politeness demanded he greet them whenever he crossed their paths. He made his way to the edge of the village, watching people remove the boards from their windows. He would have to remind himself to do that soon, though he would give it a few more weeks than the others, to keep the remainder of the chill out before it went back to decent air.

When he made it to the cliff, he sat by the edge of it, his feet dangling. He looked over to the horizon, over the large expanse of water. The winds of the Greater Sea swept over him. He found them calming. If there was anywhere where he could hear Vinnas and his Essences, it would be in the winds. At least that was what everyone said. If Vinnas spoke through the winds, then Hariş had never been graced with the favor of hearing him speak. He hovered over the edge of belief and unbelief. He closed his eyes and let the wind caress his face a bit more.

The moon hung high in the sky by the time Köl and Sehęr found him. The latter had a furious look in her eyes. Hariş fiddled with the pouch in his hands. The talisman and his coin sat in there, safely tucked away. He waited for her to speak. Her skin was reddish, whether from anger or from exhaustion remained to be seen. Köl, on the other hand, looked sheepish, his hands clasped behind his back.

"You were going to leave without me?" Sehęr voice was almost a shout.

"I didn't mean to tell her, I promise. We were talking and it just slipped. I'm sorry," Köl said. His words seemed to flow out of him faster than his lips moved.

Hariş squared his shoulders back. "I didn't think you would want to come anymore. You made it clear."

"That is not your decision to make."

"It is. It's my journey. I get to choose who I want to go with me or not. You made it clear you wanted yourself excluded. I apologize for taking your words into consideration, Sehęr."

She stepped closer, her frustration boiling over. In the scuffle, the coin pouch jostled, a few marks slipped free, along with the talisman. It tumbled to the ground, glowing faintly as it landed between them. A gust of wind surged, harder than it had before. By the cliffs, the winds were usual, but now they blew with enough strength to shake the foundation of a house. And then the air shimmered around them. And then the light, bright and blinding, engulfing all three of them. The ground beneath them seemed to dissolve, the roar of the sea replaced by an eerie silence. When the light faded, they found themselves standing in the same plain, overgrown with trees, and covered with the darkest of clouds.

"What happened?" Sehęr asked.

Haris bent to pick up the talisman and the few marks on the ground, his face pale as he examined its now-dim surface. He didn't know what happened, he just knew that it felt wrong. Very wrong.