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She should’ve worn better shoes. Of all the things to have forgotten, waterproof boots should have been near the top, but like everything else about Caitlyn’s journey into the unknown so far, the simplest of problems were already making her regret her decision.
She tried in vain to adjust her stance as rain continued to pour down. Two hours without pause, judging by the ironically waterproof watch she wore. Hitchhiking was her only chance now, in this downpour walking along the road any further was a deathwish.
No matter how she stood, the rain seemed to chill her straight to the bone, seeping into the muddy ground and, to her detriment, the soles of the expensive pumps she’d seen fit to wear today. Idiot. Of course the world outside the gilded cage didn’t care if her shoes went for four digits or two if the seams weren’t treated to keep out the weather. Caitlyn sighed, wondering how she’d explain her absence to her parents.
If they bothered to ask her themselves, that was. More likely she’d get stuffed into a psychiatrist’s office to ‘explore her feelings’ for an hour every week. She shivered, for once not because of the chill.
The strap of the single major possession she’d taken with her dug into her shoulder, the case meant for short trips between car and studio, room to room, not being carried for the better part of a day, first on the cheapest bus out of Piltover and then walking along the road, and now soaking wet in front of a gas and fast that probably went out of business before Caitlyn was born.
The case was waterproof though. Small mercies. Even if Caitlyn expired from hypothermia or pneumonia out here, her keyboard would still work perfectly fine, for all the good it did her out in the rain.
Were it not for the rain, she’d probably pull out the instrument to noodle along the keys for a moment, to try to center herself before moving on. But both playing and moving on were barred by the relentless flood, and Caitlyn was stuck.
Caitlyn shook her head, long strands of wet blue tossing rivulets all around her, including down the neck of her windbreaker. Whatever. She was already soaked through, what were a few more drops? At least none of the three cars who’d passed her in the last hour had any idea whether or not she was crying.
The plan was a flight of fancy, the more she thought about it. Getting out of the city was the easy bit; getting further than that was where her knowledge fell apart. The movies she’d seen made hitchhiking seem so easy. A point of the thumb, and on your way past the horizon, simple as that.
As a fourth car rumbled past through the deluge, this time a beat up red van with a broken headlight, Caitlyn wondered if anyone who did stop would even accept the sodden billfold she’d brought for gas money.
Reaching a decision, Caitlyn dejectedly turned the way she’d come, about to begin the long walk of shame back home. Back to the cage.
But at the sound of a slightly wheezing car horn, she froze. Hoping against hope, she turned in place to see the rain battering off the roof of the red van, a muscled tattoo-covered arm sticking out of the driver side window to beckon her towards where they’d pulled off to the side of the road.
Leaving muddy pools in the shape of her boots behind her, Caitlyn jogged over to the passenger door, which rolled down with a loud whirr to reveal a stocky woman with light red hair in a side cut, who glanced up and down at her with a concerned look. Before Caitlyn could even speak, the woman cut in earnestly. “Crap, how long were you standing out there in this monsoon? Hop in, lemme- I’ve got some towels in the back. C’mon, we’ll talk the talk once you’re not giving the world an award winning performance as a drowned rat.”
Likely noting Caitlyn’s uncertainty, the driver reached over and turned off the engine as she tossed two fluffy grey towels onto the seat, moving a well-used acoustic guitar into the back to make room. “I’m not in the spiriting away business, just can’t stand to meet someone while they get rained on.”
The woman nudged the door open from across the divider. Caitlyn hesitated only for a moment before pulling herself into the patched but surprisingly comfy seat, her keyboard sandwiched between her legs. She immediately began trying to dry her hair with one of the towels. “Sorry, I’m not even sure where I’m going, to be honest. I don’t have much money that isn’t as soaked as the rest of me either.”
The driver let out a chuckle, her grin crooked but kind. “Well I guess that makes two of us then, cupcake. Look, if you’ll let me I’ll take you wherever you need to go, knowing I’ve helped someone out of a rough spot is all the payment I need. You wanna pitch in beyond that, that’s up to you. The name’s Vi, by the way.”
Caitlyn thought over the offer for a moment as she shimmied the towels across the back of her neck. Generosity wasn’t a common sight in the circles the Kirammans moved in. There was always a hidden request, a future favor, something in exchange.
But the expression on Vi’s face was unreservedly open, free of expectation. It hadn’t really occurred to her thus far that she would have to be the last person to stop the conniving and the distrust after leaving. The buck had to stop somewhere though.
For the first time she could remember since adulthood, Caitlyn gave someone a genuine, unfettered smile. Vi returned it without hesitation. “Caitlyn. My name is Caitlyn.”
Vi’s smile widened. “Alright Cait, where to? The ‘Der Express’ is at your service,” at Caitlyn’s confusion she elaborated, tapping the steering wheel with a knuckle. “This puppy is the Der, used to belong to my old man, Vander. Calling it Vander’s van is a mouthful so we shortened it to the Der, cause you can see it’s a van just by looking.”
Caitlyn raised an amused eyebrow at the tale. “I must say this is the first time I’ll be traveling in a vehicle with a name. Where were you planning on going?”
Vi’s eyes lit up with an infectious glee. “Well I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t have one destination, truth is I’ve got a whole list. I’m on a sort of tour, places around the continent, both stuff I want to see and things people recommended. Hoping that by the end of it I’ll have found some place worth staying.”
The look of amusement on Caitlyn’s face changed doggedly to surprise. “You aren’t planning to go back to where you started?”
Vi sighed. “That’s the goal. There’s a place to go back to, but not a future, if that makes any sense. It’s what Vander told me. Used to be I had a bunch of younger siblings I had to look after, but now they’re all grown up and moved out, and it was just me and Vander in his dive bar. He wanted more for me, but when you don’t have a degree and your only experience is waiting tables and pouring pints, there’s not much else available. To tell you it straight, I’m still pretty sure I’m going to end up back there, no matter what Vander says, but I figure at least I’ll get to see the world first. Not much in the way of prospects for a nobody like me.”
Caitlyn’s brow furrowed. She’d heard that tone before in her own head. “I’m sure that’s not true, Vi. You stopped in the middle of a rainstorm to help a stranger. There have to be places in the world for someone so kind.”
When Vi laughed, there was music in the sound. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, but you’re sweet for saying it. Now, let me just get the map, I think where we’re at now the closest place I could get you with travel options is… Bel’zhun? They’ve got ferries headed most anywhere. Then again I could just turn us around and head over to Pilt—”
“No!” Vi tore her gaze off the folded paper map she’d pulled out at Caitlyn’s volume. “No, thank you, Bel’Zhun will be just fine.”
Vi held eye contact in silence for a few beats longer than necessary. “If I’d said Tereshni, or Kenethet, or any other name, would you have said yes just as fast?”
Caitlyn looked away first, which was answer enough on its own. “I suppose so?”
Vi cocked her head, contemplative. “Then I’m going to tell you something it took me years to accept. You can’t live in negatives. Eventually you’ll need somewhere you want to be, not somewhere you don’t want to be, Cait. Now I’m going to ask again, where would you like to go, Caitlyn?”
Vi held up the unfolded map of Runeterra, the edges and creases worn by repeated use. A whole sheet of possibilities, some she’d only ever heard of in stories.
“There was one thing… something far off, probably out of your way. Silly, childish. A music festival, out in the desert in Shurima. Even the name, Desert Fuss, sounds like a joke. It lasts for a few weeks, every year, and I…” Vi’s gaze lacked the judgment she’d become so accustomed to seeing in the eyes of the few she’d ever opened this part of herself to. “When I was younger, I remember thinking that to be there must be the greatest freedom I could imagine.”
Vi nodded. A wry grin appeared on her upper lip. “Well what kind of wanderlust would I be if I gave up the chance to see that?”
She turned the key and the Der roared back to life, the windshield wipers immediately returning to their pitched battle against the downpour.
When the Der pulled back onto the road, it left behind two tire tracks cut into the mud, a set of footprints, and with a heavy breath of resolution, the last of Caitlyn’s chains.
She woke up to the strum of a major chord, soft against the continued patter of rain on the van roof. The sun had fully set, making the illuminated display on the Der’s dash the only source of light inside the cab. Against the streetlights ahead, she could see a line of cars similarly stopped as they were, most pulled slightly off the road.
“Bridge is flooded, river threw its banks. Probably going to have to sit tight until morning.”
Caitlyn turned her head to where Vi sat in the back of the van, idly tickling the frets of her guitar. The woman was sprawled out over a mattress that took up most of the back, with her back against the side panel. The dull glow of a small lava lamp splayed across her features, orange splotches sparkling in her eyes as she played, as well as giving a decent impression of the van’s contents.
The Der was clearly made to be lived in, now that Caitlyn had the chance to look around. Shelves bolted into the walls high enough to avoid being in the way of someone sleeping held bundles of supplies and various knick knacks, ostensibly either from Vi’s home or collected along the way. It was all well used, dented in places, but purpose built to be… cozy. Caitlyn’s bedroom at home which could easily have fit four identical vans within its vaunted walls had never been cozy. Well lit, warm, plush, for sure. But never cozy.
“Sorry for waking you, but sleep can be pretty bad sitting in a chair, even more so for someone with legs like yours.” Vi’s fingers continued the brush over the strings absent-mindedly, playing a simple arpeggiation. “My sister is built the same way, I used to find her cooped up at her desk drooling on blueprints or circuit boards, always complained about her back the next day.”
Caitlyn rolled her shoulders and yawned, rewarded by a few pops in her spine. “Thank you, you might say I’m not used to such arrangements.” “Feel free to hop on back here if you want, plenty of room. No shoes is my only ask.”
She had a moment of contemplation before kicking off her useless pumps and handing Vi the still slightly damp keyboard case, which she examined as Caitlyn shuffled herself into the back. As soon as she left the cab, a striking glow caught her eye, coming from above.
A few feet above her head, outlined in several shades of glow-in-the-dark paint, was the form of a curled dragon, looped around itself like a cat, tendrils of glowing white steam coming from its nose. The style would’ve been called garish by any of the Kiramman’s sort of artists, but the flashy, rough-stroke design was definitely eye-catching.
The only question was why Vi’s van had such a drawing on the inside, rather than somewhere it could be appreciated.
“Vi, why is there a dragon on your ceiling?”
Vi looked up and gave the painting a faint smile. “Oh, Snoozer? Parting gift from my sister. Took a weekend away from super genius engineering school when she heard I was going on the trip. We used to watch over each other, before Vander. I think she wanted to make sure someone was looking after me, for peace of mind. For me it’s mainly just a super rad design. How many people get to say they sleep under a dragon?”
“Is that the same sister who would fall asleep?”
“One and the same, my only sibling by blood. She was the last one to move on, the youngest of everyone Vander took care of.”
Caitlyn’s brow furrowed. “Before you, that is?”
The sad shadow that crossed Vi’s face looked lost in the space where an easy smile usually sat. “Like I said, whether or not I’ve moved on is kind of up in the air.”
She returned quickly to her default grin, but the shadow remained between them, uneasy against the patter of rain and soft twang of the guitar.
“Any telling how the rain will keep up?” Caitlyn asked, desperate for something to fill the sudden void.
“Highway patrol had a cruiser rolling up and down the line, making sure people were ok to wait. Last I heard it was gonna be a few hours.” she handed Caitlyn back the case after she’d gotten settled, sitting opposite Vi. “You… you carry that thing around for show?”
Caitlyn smirked. This was something she could speak of with pride. “I’ll have you know I’ve been marked ‘excellent’ by some of the strictest piano teachers money can buy. I’m sure some of them even meant it.”
That got a laugh from Vi, which didn’t appear to be hard, but to Caitlyn was worth it every time. In quote unquote ‘high society’ laughter was without exception at someone’s expense or part of a social requirement with respect to status. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I enjoy playing, but usually not for others.”
Vi raised her eyebrows. She craned her neck to look out the back window of the van, squinting dramatically. She had that same mischievous grin on her face again, but this time there was no shadow behind it. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Caitlyn laughed softly. “I suppose that’s good enough.”
The zipper on her case was heavy, built to contain something and imply its value in one glance. A flip of the lid revealed a sleek brushed aluminum body in matte grey, with mother of pearl keys and several light-up displays for tone and EQ control. Like everything the Kirammans commissioned (of course she could never be seen playing an off the rack instrument) it was bespoke, elegant, expensive, and assembled to exacting tastes. Unlike anything else Caitlyn had ever owned, those exacting tastes were hers and hers alone; buying it had been the single event in Caitlyn’s life where her mother had given her creative license. Whether that was out of disinterest or a show of trust, Caitlyn wasn’t sure, but either way the instrument was her most prized possession, and Vi’s low whistle at it gave Caitlyn no small amount of pride.
“Well excuse me for bringing a donkey to a thoroughbred race, Cait.” Vi gestured down at her beat-up acoustic, covered in garish stickers and decals, scratches all around the pick guard and along the frets, one string obviously a different make than the others. Caitlyn immediately blanched, worried she’d indirectly shamed Vi for something entirely out of her control. But Vi just looked at her and smiled. “Sound is sound, cupcake. It’s what you put behind it that matters.”
She gestured encouragingly as the board hummed to life.
Caitlyn placed her hands at an A Minor chord, her default preference when improvising, and proceeded to play… nothing. The rain outside continued unaccompanied, for what felt like several minutes of an eternity as she racked her brain for something, anything to play that Vi might enjoy. It rattled her when she realized this was the first time she’d be sharing her music, not something off a sheet, with someone else. Usually the notes came to her faster than her fingers could follow, when she was alone. Vi’s presence didn’t bring the chilling oppression her recitals did, but it was still a corner of her heart she’d never felt bold enough to uncover for someone else. The anxiety had her stymied.
Just when she was about to fall back on one of the ‘proper’ pieces she’d memorized for recital, Najand or maybe Brenneisen, Vi swooped in with a tilt of her head and a welcome lifeline. “I’m a tough crowd I know. Here, I can start you off with a bassline, if you want?”
Caitlyn swallowed a little more audibly than she’d have liked, nodding readily. “That would be lovely.”
Vi’s hands fell into an easy rhythm, a simple chord progression. Like the rest of Vi, it was easy to pull herself into and after a few beats Caitlyn joined in with a wistful meandering she wasn’t sure was a ballad or an elegy.
The other woman’s constant rhythm settled over Caitlyn like white noise, just enough to silence the disquiet inside her and allow her to focus everything she had on improvising.
The progression changed subtly as they went on. Vi was a great accompanist, especially on an instrument that usually was accompanied rather than the other way around. She knew after the eighth run through it was a ballad, not an elegy, and adjusted her tempo to compensate, opting for a brighter tone, trifling in melody that looped around a central theme differently without diverging too far.
She was still a bit damp, particularly around her armpits and waist, there was no fully drying out with the rain still coming down. But Vi’s towels and her nap had done a remarkably good job at warming her up and getting her shoes off had been ecstasy, burying her toes in the thick blanket that covered Vi’s van bed.
In the half-dark of the lamplight, a painted dragon overhead and the beginnings of a friend across from her, Caitlyn began to sing.
Sure enough, the bridge was clear and open a few hours after the first rays of sunlight reached into the Der’s rear window. The sound of engines starting woke Caitlyn up from a sound sleep, her cheek mushed up against the empty case for her keyboard. She could feel the vinyl impression left on her skin, and in her daze saw Vi curled up closer to the van’s rear, a thick blanket wrapped around everything but the tip of her pink hair. The woman looked not unlike a burrowing mammal with its furry butt hanging out of its den, and Caitlyn laughed quietly to herself as she nudged Vi awake with her foot.
Vi squinted into the sunlight, checking her wristwatch as she shook the sleep from her eyes. “Alrighty then. Time to find us a destination.”
Less than half an hour later the pair sat at a wooden picnic table outside a fast food joint, Vi scrolling through a sparse webpage on a tablet with a worn leather cover. The ability to at least pay for lunch had somewhat mollified Caitlyn’s urge to contribute more towards the journey, but as Vi compared the coordinates given for the festival to the map she’d brought from the Der, the sheer distance involved had her a bit worried.
A quick search on a fast food joint’s internet had netted Vi a fairly simple site with unsophisticated but jolly splash screen at the top which read “Desert Fuss! Come Play, In The Sand.” There were a few tabs along the page, listing rules, logistics, and a few older photographs of the event in progress, most of which were common sense. Water would be available in rationed amounts per axle, which was a relief. The Der was spacious, but not spacious enough for a water tank.
What Caitlyn had balked at was the stated location, far to the southwest of the Sun Disk, in a region called Sai Farai. From where they were in the outskirts of Bel’Zhun, the drive would be a serious undertaking.
She momentarily worried Vi would say it was too far away, even with her stated goal of seeing the world. Caitlyn mentally recoiled at the idea of traveling with someone else, but even more than that, the idea of likely never seeing Vi again was an even stronger cause for panic.
But Vi didn’t even blink. She simply fished a clipboard out of a canvas bag, festooned with a slightly crumpled sheet of lined paper full of scrawlings and notes in the margins on post-its. “The List”, it read helpfully at the top. Over a dozen items were on it, ranging from landmarks Caitlyn had seen pictures of to abstract bits like ‘go cliff diving somewhere pretty’. It was clear that several hands were involved in its creation.
“Your family helped with this?” she asked.
“Snail mail yeah, my sister Powder studying abroad in Demacia, Mylo doing… something in Bilgewater? Claggor went to learn about glass blowing in the Freljord, and of course Vander was there with me.” Vi rubbed her thumb across the wrinkled page “At first it felt kinda dumb, why not just do it over email, but Vander insisted he wanted it to be something the whole family had touched. I guess it was his way of making it feel like it wasn’t me leaving but me joining everyone else, I guess.”
Caitlyn beheld the List with a twinge of sadness. It wasn’t that the Kiramman way of keeping in touch with family was wrong or bad, with a clan as large as they were it all but required a spreadsheet to keep track of all the relations. That said, the charming amount of care put into what was basically just a piece of paper was something Caitlyn knew her family most likely would never understand.
“There’s room at the bottom.” Vi handed her a permanent marker. Caitlyn accepted the implement like it was a holy relic. “You’re sure? It’s such a long way.”
It was the type of distance that Caitlyn normally thought people only traveled in planes or over Hexgates.
But Vi gave her one of those shrugs that put the sky within reach. “I dunno if you’ve noticed but this is a car and there’s places in Ionia on this list, Cait, it was never going to be a simple trip.”
Her hand covered Caitlyn’s, anchoring her uncertainty as she lowered the tip of the marker to paper. On a blank line close to the bottom, Caitlyn’s flowing cursive joined the mix of blocky letters and scrawlings. “Now it’s official. You’re part of the journey too, however long as you want to be.”
As though she hadn’t just given Caitlyn the most personal and moving gift she’d ever received, Vi simply walked back to the Der, threw open the driver’s seat, and looked back with her usual grin. But to her confusion the grin lost a bit of its ease at something over Caitlyn’s shoulder.
Turning her head to follow, Caitlyn spotted the culprit, but the reason wasn’t immediately apparent. At the edge of the lot was a pay phone, old fashioned but in good repair. She’d left her cell phone in her room before leaving, knowing it could be tracked, and harboring a grim expectation her parents would use it to find her.
“You don’t have to. I’m not telling you to. But I can tell you’re in the deep end of whatever’s going on.” She held out the coin change they’d gotten from lunch. Two quarters. She touched Vi’s hand loosely as she took them, feeling the slight perspiration. Whether it was from the heat or the question, she didn’t know. All she knew was she’d never seen Vi’s eyes look like that before, and that alone had her thinking seriously about what she was going to do.
“I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.”
The phone was old construction, the plex done over the boot cracked and dirty, though the handset had somehow remained mercifully untouched by time. She slid one of the quarters into the slot, realizing only at the rattle of the mechanism she’d been holding her breath. The familiar sequence punched into the keypad, a ringing that came from the receiver as much as from her own ears in apprehension.
One ring passed. She sucked in a breath. Two rings. The receiver warmed against her ear. Three rings. She was met with a click.
“Kiramman residence, to whom am I speaking?” The voice of Tobias Kiramman came through tired, lacking his characteristic brightness.
Caitlyn’s words stuck fast in her throat. She idly spun the spare quarter between her index, middle and thumb.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
She didn’t know what to say.
“...Cait? Is that you?”
What could she say?
“I think I understand, dear. Or at least I want to.”
The void stretched between them, sloping along telephone poles the width of a nation.
“I’d like you to come home, but I won’t demand it. I hope that is a step in the right direction. Just…”
The older man’s voice cracked ever so slightly.
“Just tell me you’re safe, please? I see now the pitfalls of asking too much, but could I at least have that?”
A lump formed in her throat. She looked out of the booth towards the Der, Vi standing against the hood, watching the cars pass, her shoulders hunched.
“I’m ok.”
She heard a tight gasp. The sound of leather creaking. She could picture her father leaning back in his desk chair.
“Then that’s enough. We love you so much Caitlyn. And I… hope… that trusting you now, is how we can begin to prove it. When you’re ready.”
Her pulse quickened, breathing shallow. She rubbed the face on the quarter, warmed metal sliding against the pad of her finger.
“I love you too.”
The receiver clanked as she gently returned it to its stand. She let out a long, quiet breath. The long walk of thirty feet back to the Der might’ve been underwater for the pressure she felt in her ears. Vi looked up as she approached, straightening.
It was only when she saw Vi’s eyes widen a fraction that Caitlyn realized there were tears running down her cheek.
“Can I give you a hug?”
Caitlyn nodded wordlessly. Immediately two powerful arms wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing a shaky breath from her lungs.
They sat in silence for what could’ve been seconds or hours, breathing into each other. Caitlyn pulled away only once she stopped hearing her heartbeat in her ears. Vi looked at her, then at the Der, and then back. A silent conversation seemed to play out in her features. Stepping around the bumper, she reached for the handle and opened the driver’s side door, looking back at Caitlyn with a shy grin.
“Better?"
“I think so.”
“Good to hear.”
Vi stared into the middle distance for a beat. “You ever driven stick?”
Caitlyn had, as Vi put it, the heart for drag racing, and a foot for minefields. It was a kinder way of putting it than the Der’s engine managed, in a series of noises Caitlyn had never heard a car make before and hoped she’d never hear again.
Still, after a few hours of transmissional abuse and Vi’s coaching, Caitlyn had established at least a passing relationship with the shifter, to the point that Vi was comfortable bringing her guitar up to the front seat while Caitlyn drove. By the time she began to see turn-off signs for Urzens, Caitlyn was reasonably confident that her behavior no longer ran the risk of being labeled reckless driving. To her credit, Vi had resolved to put her seat back and stare out the passenger window, which was a vote of confidence if nothing else.
For all the ramshackle energy the Der’s construction had, it certainly ate up the miles, which helped somewhat to assay Caitlyn’s internal strife that yes, she was really doing this, of her own volition, not because it was proper or required of her but because she wanted to. Darting her eyes briefly over at the woman chiefly responsible for the momentum, who’d already gone so far beyond what she could ever have expected of a stranger, her newfound calm behind the wheel bred into curiosity.
Vi hadn’t asked her many big questions, steering well clear of discussing Piltover or Caitlyn’s familial circumstances. She seemed to have something of a sixth sense about the things Caitlyn wasn’t ready to talk about, or maybe Caitlyn wasn’t nearly as good at schooling her emotions than she thought. The perpetually friendly woman loved to fill the air, with her presence and company in conversation or with a hand to her guitar strings, yet she didn’t so much dominate the space as so many up-and-comers in Piltover did at social functions. The feeling of letting spoken words or musical notes steep in the cab around them was a refreshing one, of an abstract relation to the physical breeze coming through the Der’s windows in the early evening chill.
For her part, Caitlyn had only broached the subjects Vi brought up already, not wanting to bruise the peaceful atmosphere they’d managed to construct in transit. The pink haired woman seemed to revel in gushing about the accomplishments of her siblings, stories about her father and his work in bettering life in the undercity, but it occurred to her that everything Caitlyn knew about her personally was shaped either by the physical evidence of how she was seen by others or the fact that she’d invited Caitlyn along with her in the first place.
Whenever talk approached Vi’s personal history or self, she quickly but deftly redirected them to something else, usually relevant but distant. Safe. That was something Caitlyn knew all about, growing up with a golden ticket but having the gall to ask questions as to its origins. Among her peers, Caitlyn sometimes felt like she was the only one interested in why Piltover was so rich despite the squalor in view across the bridge, which made what those around her called ‘polite conversation’ a major headache of affluenza and biting her tongue to avoid ‘a scandal’.
She told herself that Vi seemed the opposite kind of person than would monitor her speech for Caitlyn’s benefit. Shouldn’t curiosity outweigh propriety? It was a new and uncertain feeling, caring about how she looked as a person in another’s eyes, rather than just as an extension of her parentage and family name. Precarious, but freeing. She loved it. She was terrified of it.
“Vi, you barely know me.”
Vi hovered a scarred hand against the guitar strings, muting them as she continued to strum aimlessly. “True. There’s plenty about you that’s still just a big foggy gap. That cuts both ways, though. We all like to think of ourselves as open books full of secrets, you know?”
Caitlyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “That doesn’t… phase you, at all?”
Vi pinched upper strings “The way I figure, we’re both here because of different kinds of pressure. I didn’t hear your phone call, I don’t pry like that, but I saw the look on your face when I pointed out the booth and when you came back. The why doesn’t matter. You needed help, and I had the means to give it.”
She licked her lips. Caitlyn listened.
“Vander sometimes says there are no uninformed decisions, because you’re always informed by your moral compass. Helping you off that rainy siding was the right thing to do. And…” she swallowed back what Caitlyn realized was anxiety “and I don’t know if I have the stones to really say it right, but I think I might have needed a good stranger too, and I’m glad that was you.”
Caitlyn nodded slowly, caught between the desire to know more and the hesitation in wanting Vi to feel safe opening herself to her.
“So am I.”
The raw but welcoming silence that followed held strong for a full mile, riding on the coattails of revelation. It was filled only by the resumption of Vi’s playing and the delicate hum of the engine as Caitlyn drove on.
With how Shuriman roads were built with water as a primary resource, it actually made more sense to hug the coastal highway almost all the way to Kalamanda before turning south towards Mt. Targon. From there, it was a simple matter of following the mountain range until they reached the river.
The rhythm they fell into made short work of the distance, switching off driving every few hours. Sleeping as they had, opposite each other under the watchful vigil of a glowing dragon. The early evenings and occasional mornings were spent in an orchestra of two, key and pick, accompanied by Caitlyn’s voice in lyric or just hum.
All said, with attention to efficiency the trip could have taken less than a week. Away from the big cities, and a solid distance from both Mt. Targon and the Sun Disc, traffic was sparse to the point Caitlyn sometimes went hours without seeing another car.
Vi however, did not travel with efficiency or expediency in mind. Whether it was befriending locals in restaurants or rest stops, picking up brochures and flyers listing nearby attractions, or just stopping to take in a particularly picturesque vista or land formation, Vi’s laid back approach would’ve likely given any travel agent in Piltover migraines.
Traveling with Vi meant the journey was its own destination. Every day was a series of new wonders, amplified in kind as Caitlyn turned to watch Vi experience them along with her. It was a state of being, of perpetual motion. The two of them, an aura of calm, and the road ahead.
It was peace. Which made it all the more jarring when, in light of the setting sun, they finally reached the end of the road.
Literally. What had started as a paved roadway had first become gravel, then packed sand, until they were guided not by road signs or even a path at all, but the coordinates Vi had managed to load into her tablet.
To Caitlyn, it felt like they’d driven clear off the edge of the world. Then, just as she began to wonder if the whole festival was an elaborate hoax, she saw a sea of… more things with wheels than she’d been aware existed.
Trucks. Hatchbacks. RVs. Campers. Tents. All that and more were visible in rows beyond the crudely but solidly constructed gate that led into the festival grounds. ‘Grounds’ was also a crude term for what was essentially a few square kilometers of open desert the festival organizers had probably shrugged at and said ‘good enough’ before planting their flag.
“Flag” was a strong word as well; the flapping sheet of fabric was covered by logos, decals, signatures, and patches sewn into a basic light green background, ostensibly all from people who’d performed in years past. Caitlyn could barely make out writing in at least five different scripts, the majority either Yazic or Solerian, but Velarian, Ioniish, and even Frelian patches were also visible.
“Powder and Ekko would have a field day here. Or I guess a… sand day?” Vi commented as they rolled past several vehicles that were clearly custom built, with elaborate bodywork and decoration that Caitlyn questioned the practicality or even road-worthiness of. She definitely couldn’t deny the aesthetic though. Neither could she ignore the noise.
Vi had the windows rolled down in the early evening breeze, and even over the chatter of organizers, visitors, vendors, and engines Caitlyn could hear an absolute cacophony of music and song echoing between the panels of trucks or from hastily erected tents and bungalows. Vi had most of her attention on the neon-clad traffic wardens directing her with those glowing cones airport guides used, but after only a few rows Caitlyn had half of her torso leaning out the passenger side taking in everything she could about the festival. Blankets lined the spaces between cars, often interspersed with chairs, pillows, and even hammocks strung off utility racks and roll cages.
More than anything else, what caught Caitlyn by surprise was how little of a rush there was. The organizers were competent but calm, people strolled instead of jogging. Every event she’d been dragged along to for her mother’s political career had been a whirlwind of hissed demands and chastisements, dozens of employees or servants having incredibly stressful days so a handful of rich folk could pretend to be calm and put together for an audience.
Here though, even in the din of a field of music and excitement, the sound moved at a leisurely pace, insulated by the walls of everything she could imagine with wheels or sleds. As though the entire grounds formed a natural buffer of acoustics, sending a different song unfettered towards her between every row or line.
When Vi finally backed in along the edge of a small ring of cars surrounding a clearing where the dunes were too loose to allow parking, Caitlyn had already heard more types of music than she’d known existed, and several she never expected to hear in such a place.
The engine cut, Vi sank into her seat,and gave Caitlyn a knowing glance of excitement. “I haven’t taken one step out there and I already know the rest of the List is going to have to put in work to beat it.”
“I certainly hope so for making you drive across sand for an hour and a half.”
“Yeah, by the way, you’re driving on the way out, if I do that twice I’m pretty sure the Der is going to disown me.”
“And you’re taking the night slow, get some rest. The sights will still be there in the morning. No personal awakenings without a good night’s sleep.”
Vi yawned. “If you insist.”
They made their nightly preparations in silence, used to each other’s habits and company. Laying down, heads towards the cab, in comfortable awareness of one another’s presence by a steady heat in blankets, Caitlyn fell asleep watching the slumbering face of a woman who was quickly outgrowing the term ‘friend’.
The feeling of waking up alone was a moment of panicked confusion right up until Caitlyn recognized a familiar twang among the sounds of the festival at night, coming from somewhere behind the Der. Popping open the back doors, given a minute to let her eyes adjust to the relative dark, and Caitlyn saw something that put her mind at ease and quiet laugh to her lips.
Vi had managed to somehow find the one tree in all of the festival grounds to sit under, a gnarled pinyon pine in the clearing behind the Der whose lower branches had a part just wide enough for Vi to fit her shoulders between. The guitar she had flat against her thighs this time, like a dulcimer of sorts, which she plucked the strings of while a simple glass slider adorned her left ring finger. The combination of the wide open desert away from the festival grounds and the effect of the slider gave the instrument a cagey, ethereal mute, the sound bouncing and warbling off the sand in curious echoes that disappeared into the night almost as soon as they formed.
Caitlyn walked barefoot on the soft sand to stand beside her. “What are you doing out here in the dark?”
Vi chuckled a bit, biting her lip. “Got time for a story? Be easier if I explain that first.”
“I have nowhere else to be.” She reached over and lifted the neck of the guitar up to free Vi’s lap, which the pink haired woman allowed her to do with an amused look on her face. The area now free, Caitlyn spun on her heel and plopped down, shimmying back and forth a few times to get comfortable.
“Oof!” Vi exclaimed, more surprised than anything else. “There is a whole desert around Cait, just saying.”
Caitlyn gave her her best Kiramman side-eye. “Why would I sit on the sand when I have the best seat in the house in the form of you?”
Vi gave a breathy laugh of exasperation, the warmth right on the side of Caitlyn’s neck. “Ok your highness, but if my legs fall asleep you’re carrying me back to the Der.”
Caitlyn held eye contact. “I’m a kind and generous queen.”
Vi broke away first, heat visible in the slight chill of the desert evening. “If you say so. Right, well like, two years ago or something this couple from Targon showed up at Vander’s place, Leona and… Diana I think? They were like, one of those super athletic couples who clearly bond over like, bike riding and stuff, smokeshows the both of them, but super polite. Point is, we got to talking, and it came up that one of the things they connected over was both being named after constellations. Apparently they’re real big on stars over there. Diana was a bit sad you don’t get much of a view from the undercity, what with all the buildings and the smog and lights, but she pulled up her and Leona’s constellations on her phone, in case I was ever somewhere with better optics.”
Vi folded the guitar back over, a bit awkwardly around Caitlyn’s midriff, casually plucking harmonics as she spoke.Caitlyn could feel her chest rise and fall against her back, a strong heartbeat against her spine.
“And I saw all this, more stars at once than I’d seen in a whole life living in the undercity, and got to thinking about Diana and Leona, their stars. I’ve been trying to remember them, plus some of the more basic ones I heard about as a kid.”
“Can you teach me?” Caitlyn tried to muffle her swallowing with the question. “I wanted a telescope for a few years as a kid, but mother always said it wasn’t a practical enough avenue of science.”
Vi cocked her head to see around Caitlyn’s hair, and pointed with the guitar pick. “See that long straight-ish line of stars with the three in a triangle around them, one up top two underneath. That’s Diana the Valkyrie. The flesh and blood version doesn’t have a spear I don’t think, but that’s what the long straight bit is supposed to be I guess.”
“I’d like to own a spear. Or a javelin, perhaps. There’s a lot of catharsis in flinging.”
Vi choked a bit. “You’re the only person I’ve met who can make ‘flinging’ sound wistful, you know that?”
“One of many skills. Wistful oration, keyboard, hitchhiking. A veritable renaissance woman, truly. You said Diana’s wife also had a constellation?”
“Yeah, she did, hang on.” Vi leaned her head forwards to sit her chin on Caitlyn’s right shoulder, perching there as she scanned the sky for the proper collection of lights. “I’m not sure but I think it’s those four bright ones in the diamond, with a few fainter ones around it? Diana called it The Radiant Dawn, but Leona said most people just call it The Sun constellation. To be honest, none of us knew why there was a group of stars named after the one thing famously not visible at night. Anyway, the sun is the sun. Leona seemed to be more interested in Diana being interested than anything else, which was cute in its own way.”
Caitlyn felt herself begin to settle into Vi as she talked, rattling off a few more constellations she remembered from Diana’s chart. She recognized some that were shared between Ionian myths and Targon’s pantheon. “What do you think your constellation would be, if there was a Vi up there?”
Vi purposefully mushed her lips into the back of Caitlyn’s neck. “Vi, The Celestial Chair, throne of monarchs, epitome of furniture.” Caitlyn gave her a light flick on the arm. “Seriously, either you think of one or I’ll name one after you.”
“Just like that?”
Caitlyn made a big show of looking around the desert scape, before turning to give Vi her best side-eye. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Vi’s chuckle shook her torso slightly, rocking Caitlyn where she sat, smiling to herself. “Well played.”
Caitlyn raised a brow. “Am I to assume you’re conceding then?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘conceding’ but I do kinda want to hear what you’re thinking anyway.”
Caitlyn rested her head back onto Vi’s shoulder, staring up at the sky through the gaps in the pine’s branches.
“I see a handful in a rough trapezoid, over that RV. You know those older arches and bridges with the big stone at the apex? You could be Vi The Lodestone, the humble, solid piece that supports everyone around you.”
Vi shrugged against Caitlyn’s collarbone. “It’s sweet, but rings a little hollow. Too much credit I guess?”
Caitlyn twisted her hips sideways, swinging her legs to the side so she sat across Vi’s lap, snaking one arm around the back of Vi’s neck. The guitar she slid out of the way onto the sand, her free hand beckoning Vi to place her now empty palms against her side.
“And what might you mean by that, I wonder?”
Vi looked away, difficult with her face so close to Caitlyn’s. “I mean, when I was younger maybe. When Powder and the others needed me, when I had a purpose. Now I’m someone who’s just getting by.”
Caitlyn cocked her head.“Suppose I said that’s bullshit?”
Vi barked a laugh. It faltered in her chest when Caitlyn didn’t join in, and just kept looking right through her. “How is that?”
“I need you, Vi. Right now as much as on that rainswept roadside. You anchor me when I’m not sure where I’m going. I still don’t know, nor how long it will take to find out, but thanks to you, I know where I am. You’ve given that to me. A complete stranger, you gave yourself and your time, your… love. You’re the fulcrum, and I think I’d like to be yours too. In fact there is exactly one thing you haven’t already given that I want from you, Vi.”
Vi’s eyes shot to Caitlyn’s at the word ‘love’. She spoke in a breathless whisper. “What’s that?”
Caitlyn leaned in to put her lips just outside Vi’s ear. “Permission to kiss you.”
Thus followed a sharp intake of breath, and a moment later, under the light of starlight shining across a hundred acres of desert, Vi gave one more time.