His spirit seemed to compress at the thought of Badlands. He appeared to have seen his share, which was greater than hers. She still firmly held by the belief that he was far too young to have seen much of anything, but she too was a visitor here. It would do well to heed the warnings of those who traversed the land prior. Good cartographers learned this early on in their career. Bad cartographers never had the longevity or life expectancy needed to make much of a career.
At the thought of the map, she gripped the bowl a bit harshly, the liquid inside jerking violently. She had tipped her hand in an uncomfortable way. The curiosity was too great for her to keep steady. His explanation of the signs he followed appeared valid, and if he came from the right side of his map, that would imply he was traveling from the east, bound from the west. Yet, his tracks suggested he came from more of a southeastern direction. It appeared whoever handled the original mapping efforts didn’t account for changes in elevation affecting the route too well. This was a great find, as her own map started at a northeastern point and headed down in a south-southwest line. Even if his map wasn’t up to par, combined with his words and the work she had already done up to this point, this could greatly expedite her own efforts.
Heart jumping for joy, she’d happily take his poorly kept map. Without thinking much of it, she’d hand him one of her waterskins. Still unfamiliar with the terror of thirst, she was certain she would be able to find more water if the need arose. If she put significant thought and power into her echoes, she would likely be able to get some sense of whether it was solid or liquid that she was getting feedback from. As the map spread through her hand, she’d quickly notice bits about it. Moving off the blanket under her, she’d unwrap it twice with her other hand, before hastily pulling a smaller box of her own out of the back.
Compared to this disheveled piece, her works were pristine. Folded over themselves to form properly thumbed squares, she’d need but a moment to unfold all three of the current projects next to each other on the blanket. One was a mostly up to date approximation of the local topography, as helped by her own resonant abilities. She was quite proud of that one. It still lacked the proper legends and labeling, but only because those took ages to dry. Next portion was a general layout of her road thus far, showing an hour of travel as an approximate unit of measure, and it was still heavily a work in progress. Finally, she looked at the most unfinished parchment, and was able to see how his information could cross-reference with her own. The third map was supposed to be the one she actually delivered to her brother, once the other two pieces of parchment gathered enough working information. She believed it would be ready when she reached the point of measuring days and weeks, instead of hour-by-hour travel.
Her hand reaching into her bag, she’d pull out the kit as well. Sliding it open, she’d pluck the quill out and crack open the ink. She quickly pulled off one of her boots, using the other foot. Liberated toes grasping around the ink to make sure no accidents occurred. This was most definitely uncomfortable, but the safest way she could everything on hand on the uneven sands. She could hear him talking in the background, but at this level of focus, it was more of a buzz and she had to struggle to make out his exact meaning.
“Work and travel are the same thing for me, you see” she squinted a bit at the thought. Hadn’t she already told him that she was out here mapping? Was he checking if her story held up while she was distracted? This actually caused her to become more comfortable with the situation. If he was being so finnicky about the whole thing, it was entirely likely that he feared her more than she feared him. This was a good position. Letting go of thoughts of self-defense for the first time since their meeting, she was back on the papers in front of her.
Whoever perpetuated the myth that maps should be rolled up into scrolls instead of squarely folded wasn’t doing her profession any favors. Even the cartography kits were being sold almost exclusively with scrolls in mind. While they were definitely more appealing to look at, they made the work itself far less doable. “This map of yours was made by someone educated, but without significant expertise” the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like an Entente map. They would have the proper schooling and a vested disinterest in actually becoming masters of such a common craft. She wasn’t sure how much time was passing, but she was quickly transcribing his information to overlay with hers on both the topography and the sketch of her own path. The map for her brother would need to be updated at a later date, but she did put a couple of smaller markings at the southeastern edge of the final map, making sure to account for perspective. The sand and the firelight were most definitely not ideal working conditions, but she was an expert of her craft.
Not much caring for the internal mechanics of the supposed temple, she’d stop short of marking the inside details of it. “Based on this map, I believe someone was really inside the building” she turned it towards him “If you look here, you can see these aren’t blueprint designs. It’s done in a very naïve way” she said that with disapproval in her voice “it’s ascribed more as a cave than a structure proper”.
Finally torn from the papers fully, she corked back the ink, wondering if she should let the papers dry by themselves or use sand for it. “If the approximate location could be found and the general wind direction determined, I’m sure this could be dug up” she eyed him carefully. “I could help you look and help you dig in exchange for more information about the elevation and settlements you’ve already covered through your portion of the trip” gesturing down to the still drying works, she eyed him curiously.
When she first saw him, she wouldn’t have thought of it – and yet, this could prove to be a mutually beneficial meeting.
Continued here.
