"Let's head to the Grand [Bazaar]. Maybe the Temple of [Money] after?"
"How about the reverse? I need to exchange some bills."
You dip a nod, and Rekhyt starts across the lain brick streets. You trail behind. He guides you accurately, passing stalls where food vendors hawk their wares. Past beggars and 'guards.' Children play in the streets, chasing and playing tag with one another. Oddly, many of these children steer clear of you and Rekhyt. One makes to step close, but one of his playmates grabs the other child by the collar. A ghost of a smile dances across Rekhyt's face.
The streets don't have the clean layout that the Holyland boasts. You have to slip through many claustrophobic alleyway and abandoned building. When you and Rekhyt finally step out into the street again, a three-story granite building looms heavily on the horizon. A statue of an Outlander coin sits out front -- a curved triangle, laid with intricate curves and relief. Hollow channels line the edge--
"Did the symbol or the coin come first?"
"Symbol, but it got more complicated."
You nod as you enter the warm temple. The inside is the red sandstone that is so common within the Outlands, but its smooth and well-carved. Another of those coin statues lay on a high plinth --
That's...that's white nephrite jade. You stop in your tracks to stare at the shining white statue. Easily, you appraise, weighing a ton. It's carved with many intricate engravings and inlaid with gold, silver, and other shining alloys.
"You're drooling, Goddess," Rekhyt notes, coming to a stop next to you.
I...I...
"Ho-how old is that?"
"Mmmh...Recent. Thirty or so years."
"Ah."
...I couldn't tell you how valuable that artifact is, but I can tell you that it is expensive. Maybe twelve thousand or more credits? You pull out your datapad, tapping away at it—an appraisal app assists, giving you a rough estimate of [25,000 Empyreal Energy Credits].
Rekhyt snaps his fingers in front of your face, confused. "Something the matter?"
"N-No." You sigh, stowing the pad and rubbing at your face
Rekhyt shrugs, and you follow him to a small section of the main temple. Rough looking guards lounge here. They eye the two of you with constrained hostility. You cannot see the person's face on the other end of the booth, but a small lens set into the wall lets you know they can see yours. Rekhyt withdraws checks from a pocket --
"Can I see those?"
He nods, passing you one. You note they are made out to 'Khudal [City-Clan, Jester] for 'services rendered' by 'Rekhyt Samkrend.' The god of Money's sigil is stamped on it. You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs, then lifts an arm, displaying a small brand on his inner wrist. In an incredibly small script, you notice it reads [Khudal City-Clan]. Another of those curved symbols is marked beside it.
Jade and gold coins tumble out of the receptacle, and Rekhyt deposits them into a small pouch.
You walk out of the temple, passing by a group of devotees prostrating in front of the jade sculpture. "What's the Khudal thing about?"
"I'm the family joke." Rekhyt laughs, "An uplifted bastard with too much wit and agency."
"Isn't your mother someone important in the seaside cities?"
"Yes, but she doesn't recognize me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not a woman." He gives you another grin. "They're a..." His lips quirk, then, in the tongue of the Holyland, "A Matriarchy." He shrugs, lapsing back into his native language, "They accept me as a pawn, but only after my father made a fuss about the alliance. Rekhyt is the name my mother gave me after. Khudal is the one I was given at birth. Both are insults."
>[Lapwing, Commoner.] You note, with a frown ghosting your lips and a quick search of your datapad. A linguistic coincidence, as it means the same in [Ancient Terran Egyptian]. "I'm...I'm sorry?"
"Why?"
"...I don't...I don't know."
"I am a fool. I am a servant. I've embraced it -- and now it doesn't hurt." He gives you a grin. "And I have wings now, so it all makes sense."
"I...I suppose. It just rubs me the wrong way."
"You spoke of [Ancestors]?" He pronounces the word in perfect High Empyreal, and you glance at him in surprise. "Is that parents?"
"Ancestors." You correct, and he looks confused.
"Is that what you call your parents?"
"Yes? It's...it's a god thing." You mumble, embarrassed, trying your best not to boast. "I never really had parents, besides them. They guide me with whispers, emotions, and plans." You tap your head, and then let your hand fall to your side.
"Fascinating. Does it get annoying?" Rekhyt doesn't judge, actually sounding intrigued.
"Sometimes. But without them, I would have died long ago. They're strong and old and -- "
"Comforting?"
"...yes." You finish weakly. Rekhyt reaches out, patting you on the shoulder.
"Taking comfort in having your parents nearby is nothing to be ashamed of, Goddess. At least they care." He laughs, cheerfully.
The Grand Bazaar fills an entire plaza and spills out into the streets surrounding it. A great cloth roof is supported by a number of polished red wood pillars. A fountain bubbles away within the center, lined by statues of various indiviuals. As soon as you enter, you're assaulted by smells, scents, and sights the likes of which you've never seen. Well, at least not in your own memories.
There's household goods, technology, guns, bladed weapons, spices, cloth, crafts both foreign and local, spices, minerals, jewelry, armor, animals-- you are lost in the immense number of stalls and sellers.
Rekhyt grins at you, nudging you in the ribs "You good?"
"I'm good. Just...I..."
"This city is prosperous. Only the Holy City was bigger. Thousands of clans and [cultures] and [nations] all travel to trade. Some say we're the center of the world."
"The Holyland was never this prosperous -- this vibrant." You explain.
"What can you expect from a bunch of stuck up priests and an overbearing god?"