Tuesday is a day associated with a great enthusiasm and a desire to travel often. As a person, Tuesday fits her stereotype rather well. She is a cheerful young woman, kind and confident, and yet she hates to settle down and stay in one place for very long.
A shapeshifter, Tuesday can take on any form she desires, and so few know her true appearance. When she was born, however, she had brown hair with blonde highlights and inquisitive, deep blue eyes. Now, when she does not feel like changing her shape to blend in better, she is a young woman of average height. She does not often take the form of a taller person, for she prefers her given stature.
Tuesday dwells on the world of Elkomiir, a land similar to Earth, and yet quite dissimilar. Elkomiir is a land of ruined cities, such as those of Was Ton and Chi O, and of great magic, the remnants of the war between the Enhanced and the Unenhanced. Thousands of years after that war, Elkomiir is a thriving, bustling world full of things to cultivate the latent magic abilities in all. For a shapeshifter like Tuesday, however, only a little magic can be used, and most of that is subconscious.
The town of Silbranil is like that of any other inhabited one on Elkomiir. The buildings are stone and have red, shingled roofs. High walls protect the inhabitants from the elements and the more fierce creatures of the world. Merchants call out their wares in the streets. Publishers haggle with authors over the quality of their works. Bakers' children call out the prices for their parents' goods. People mill about like sheep, and the day siddles on towards night.
A woman, shortish and nothing spectacularly attractive, slides through the crowds as she mutters apologies. Most ignore her, which is what she wants, and only a few give her a second glance. She rushes towards a publisher's stall, hoping that she is not too late and that they are still open.
Reaching the door, she pulls the handle. It does not move. She jostles the door a little more, and still it does not open. Sighing, she collapses to the ground, wondering why people do not keep their businesses open longer.
Suddenly, movement over by another publisher's stand catches her eye. Vaulting to her feet, she dashes over to the stand, only to find it was a cat. She follows the cat down the alley into which it had turned and begins making up verses as she goes, committing them to her memory to jot down later.
"Hopeless dreamer, all alone, sitting by the watery stones. Don't fall in, my lonely one, for suicide is a mortal sin," she says, her voice calm and lilting, much like that of a bird's call or a brook's babble. Smiling, she notices that she lost the cat. Shrugging, for it probably belonged to someone, the woman exits the alley on the other side and returns to the inn for a good night's sleep.
Awakening from her bed, the woman rolls out of her bedsheets and lands, with a mild thump, on the wooden floor. Muttering something about wood being cold, the woman rises and dresses, glad to have paid the innkeep extra to have her two sets of clothes washed by this morning. She bundles the other set of clothes into a wad, secures the bundle with string, and places it on the edge of the room's desk.
She splashes cold water from the basin on her face, drawing out all remnants of sleep. Today, she must buy supplies for her trek to the next town on her list, see what merchandise she can run to there, see if she can draw any extra funds by publishing any of her works, and see what other ways she can retrieve money.
Looking in the mirror, she takes on her natural form. A stray lock of hair falls in front of her eyes and she quickly pulls it back into place and ties it up with the rest of her hair. She secures her coin purse, and her sword (she only carries that for protection and intimidation) to her belt. Next, she plops her bundle of clothes into the bottom of a rather large basket, tosses in unfinished works (which are printed on the back of fliers) in next, and secures her finished works with a cord and places them neatly on top of everything else. The basket, having been enchanted by a mage who owed her a favor, is light as if it had barely anything in it at all. She hooks her arm through the basket's handle and descends the stairs from her room, its key in her hand.
"Leaving already, Miss Tuesday?" the innkeep asks amiably. He only sees the woman once a year, and he generally enjoys her patronage.
"I am indeed, Jaiko," the woman replies. "I've got to keep moving. Towns, after the first three days, bore me. Villages take only one day, and cities take but a wekk. Sorry, but I can't stay forever."
"I know, I know. One of these days, however, you'll have to settle down and get married."
"Says who?" A malicious twinkle appears in Tuesday's eyes. "You just want me to be the wife of that outrageous upstart of a son of yours." She winks at Jaiko. "'Snot like I'd be able to do him any good. I'm probably the worst cook, seamstress, and housewife there is."
"But you do well with your money management."
"And that's it. No, I wouldn't be happy just playing the homemaker. It's far too depressing. My sister and my mother were both housewives, and I saw what they became. General atrophy where they're involved, and it won't happen to me." She grins and pays her tab and tips the innkeep and his staff. Then, with a flutter of a hand, she leaves the inn.
"Bagels, ma'am?" a small voice calls from behind Tuesday. Turning, she sees a young boy strugling with a basket full of bagels. He looks up at her expectantly.
"Why yes," Tuesday replies kindly. "I think I'll have two." She smiles down at the boy, pays his price, and selects two bagels. After toussling his hair, she goes on her way, placing one bagel in her basket while she eats the other.
The merchants are just barely setting up their shoppes and stalls and stands in the early dawn light. She strolls through the wide streets and browses by each. One woman, standing on the corner of the street, looks fretful.
"Ma'am?" Tuesday asks, approaching the woman. "Is something wrong?"
The woman fixes Tuesday with a glance of startlement. "What? Oh! Well, perhaps. I'm awaiting a messanger, and I don't know where she could possibly be. She's coming from Trolick, but she's a skilled mage, so she shouldn't be taking so long. Oh dear! I do hope nothing happened to her!"
"You don't have any clue?"
"Not a one! She's usually early with her deliveries, but this time she's late. I was thinking maybe something held her up, but I'm not too certain. Poor Edrea! I hope nothing happened to her!"
"Quit worrying, I'm sure nothing's wrong. Edrea probably just got sidetracked," a girl beside the old woman points out. She, too, is average in height, yet she is still taller than Tuesday. "If you want me to, I'll go out and look for her."
"You'd do that, Geraldine?" the woman asks, her voice quavering.
The girl fixes the woman with a stare like ice. "Yes, I'll do it, but only because she's my friend."
"If you'd like company, I'll come with you," Tuesday spoke up.
"Oh, thank you!" the woman cries, relieved. She then leaves, wringing her hands.
"What a nutcase!" Geraldine exclaims. She then turns to Tuesday and smiles. "Hello," she says amiably enough. "You can come along. I'd rather have someone to talk to than no one at all. My name's Geraldine, but if you call me that, I'll kill you."
"I'm Tuesday. So, what can I call you?"
"Aldi. Call me Aldi." Aldi nods and smiles. "So you're coming with me to Trolick. I wouldn't have agreed to go along, except that I have to go there anyways to deliver a message."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Edrea and I run messages between the West and the East. The Center is basically ruins, but Edrea loves them, so that's where she probably is." Grinning, Aldi nods again. "So, can you fly?"
"Umm... No. I'm a shapeshifter, though, so I think I can take the form of a flighted person. I never tried, though, so I wouldn't know."
"Oh. I'm a dragon-human halfling, so I'll carry you. Don't worry about it." She grins and grabs Tuesday by the wrist, dragging her through the streets. "Come on! We have to go find Edrea!"
Background by Crow Designs.